Burning Down the Spouse (29 page)
Read Burning Down the Spouse Online
Authors: Dakota Cassidy
Tags: #Separated Women, #Greek Americans, #Humorous, #Contemporary, #Women Cooks, #General, #Romance, #Humorous Fiction, #Fiction, #Cultural Heritage, #Love Stories
What did this say about her as a human being? What did it say that a man as divine as this one wanted to pursue a potential relationship with someone as mediocre as her, and she’d never once considered he was capable of it?
Wait, strike that. She’d never even given him enough credit to consider he’d know how to do anything other than run a diner and boink. She’d never allowed the love he clearly shared with his family, the hard work he put into running his father’s business, to connect with the sex god she’d turned him into in her mind.
She’d never considered it because her way of thinking was what she knew. Mitch’s way. Superficial, shallow Mitch, whom she’d let lead her to believe she could never be enough. Because he had chosen the young, nubile, undoubtedly prettier-than-Frankie-would-ever-be Bamby, she figured, by default, all men made their choices in the same way her ex-husband did.
Oh, low didn’t get any lower than what she was feeling right now.
“Frankie? Did I freak you out? It’s not my intention, but I’m determined to begin as honestly as I can. Or not begin at all. All or nothing. That’s up to you.”
From the look on Nikos’s face, she definitely saw some sort of resolution she didn’t understand, but it was there.
Huh. Right here, right now, she had the most delicious man she’d ever laid eyes on in the palm of her hand, and she didn’t know what to do with him unless it involved ravishing his luscious body, and even then, she was riding the fence about her ability to please all this hunk. “I think . . .”
What did she think? “I think I wasn’t at all prepared for you to say something as sweet and profound as you just did, and I’m a little shocked, but if you give me a good, solid twenty minutes, and maybe some shots of tequila, I might be able to wrap my brain around it,” she joked.
“You thought I’d just want to screw, didn’t you? What is it about women and that line of thinking with me?” He gave her a mocking, tragically crushed look, but his question was genuine.
Oh. Priceless. He was just golden. He was gorgeous and he didn’t have a clue. “Oh, I dunno, Nikos. I’m going to take a stab here and guess it might have to do with the fact that finding women who’ll drape themselves at your feet while the masses line up to hand feed you Twinkies would be the least of your problems. Maybe that has a little something to do with it. In the interest of honesty, and along with the humiliation of showing my cards, you’re in a different league than the average man.”
“Translation?”
Her smile was watery. “Oh, now you’re just fishing, Antonakas.”
“I’m wounded.”
Frankie rolled her eyes. “Fine. If you need to hear it out loud. You’re pretty hot. No, you’re unbelievably hot, and for someone like me to hear you talk about anything other than tossing my ovaries around, casually, and without a single shred of misgiving, is like having Scott Baio show up at your door and propose to you.”
His chuckle was low, husky, and sweet to her ears. “I am not a casual tosser. When I toss, I do the whole enchilada.”
“So I’ve come to discover,” she whispered with a shaky timbre to her voice.
“Is that more than you can handle at this point?”
“If I say yes, does that mean there’ll be no tossing?”
His smile was tender but firm. “I’m afraid it does. But I’d totally understand if that’s how you feel. I’m not suggesting we buy wedding rings and book a flight to Vegas, but I am suggesting you consider having all of me.”
Or none of him. Disappointment for that notion seeped into her brain. Yet, what he offered was such a big leap after having been dumped so callously by Mitch. Her heart clamored with fear, but it was her gut that reacted with a toe in the shallow end of the pool. “I come with more baggage than an overbooked flight to Boise.”
“Yeah, but I’d be so disappointed if you flew luggage-free. You’d never value arriving on time because you would have never experienced the hell that’s losing your bags in Tijuana when your destination’s Hoboken.”
Frankie didn’t want to lose again. Not ever again. And she was never going to allow a man to own so much of her that she retreated back to the dark confines of her cave to mourn him. But she was afraid to fall for more sweet talk. She’d done it once. Twice was unacceptable—especially at her age, when she was supposed to be more mature and semi-capable of differentiating between sincerity and bullshit.
She’d only just begun to gather not only her wits but also a paycheck free and clear of Mitch’s influence. She was so afraid to screw that up by getting involved with someone and ending up hurt. “Losing your bags sucks.”
“But it can make you appreciate having to buy those Louis Vuittons to replace your old Walmart brand.”
“You do not know who Louis V. is.”
“Not only do I know of him, I did some account management for someone on his staff. That’s not the point. The point is, if you’re not ready for the physical part of this relationship, or the beginnings of something more substantial than a sheet wrinkler, then we’ll wait until you are. And if you never are, I’d appreciate your honesty. And you don’t have to make any rash decisions tonight. We can go as slow as you’d like.”
Tell that to her hormones, who, as obnoxious, uncontrolled crowds go, were voicing their desires in the way of raw, exposed nerves and a desperate need for the show to go on. There was nothing in this choice Nikos posed that held anything unappealing. It was only her fear that she’d end up humiliated by picking the same man in a different body that kept her from jumping at the chance to get to know Nikos better.
However, there was beauty in the thought that nothing could ever be worse than flipping your lid on national television. “I think I’m in.”
Tilting her head back, he gazed down at her. “I think I like the sound of that. You do realize what that means, don’t you?” Nikos arched her back as he hauled her hard against him.
It meant her nether regions better sing their chorus of hallelujahs in their indoor voices so she wouldn’t embarrass herself. Relief, excitement, along with a hot dose of anxiety over unfamiliar territory made her voice hoarse. “What does that mean?” Frankie asked with a coy smile, suddenly unsure.
“First, it means you can’t go on a date with Marco. Then it means we get to see each other naked,” he said against her mouth, whispering over her lips with a lick of his silken tongue.
Frankie had to fight another swell of panic mingling with the heat Nikos was stirring deep in her belly. Naked. Sex meant she had to be naked. Oh. Dear. Lord. “That means I have to take my clothes off?”
“Nope,” he muttered against her neck, making her tremble. “It means I get to take them off for you.”
Wait, where in her fantasy had she been naked? She’d always had something flowy and shimmery on, and her hair was fabulous and lush. But no naked. Her heart began a race against her lungs to screech out of her chest in a game of who was more panicked.
But then, her head fell back on her shoulders as Nikos trailed a hot path along her sensitive flesh, nipping and kissing his way back to her mouth, making her forget her fear. When her head lifted, she remembered. Panic about the naked reared its ugly head thanks to the Christmas tree and its soft lights twinkling in the corner of the room. “It’s bright in here, don’t you think?”
He chuckled, deep and vibrating against her neck. “It’s the getting naked thing, right?”
Oh, Death. Where are you when I need you?
“No . . . yes. Well, I guess I just didn’t think . . . my entire fantasy out.”
“No . . . yes. Well, I guess I just didn’t think . . . my entire fantasy out.”
Nikos’s head bobbed upward, leaving the flesh of her neck mournful. “Fantasy?” His question was deep and hoarse.
Okay, Death, if you’re off for the night, could I get a little help from Mr. Destruction? Maybe an earthquake that shifts the floor and swallows me whole?
“I—it’s—I don’t know what you’re talking about, Antonakas. I said nothing about fantasies.” She gave him an indignant glance before looking over his shoulder at the brightly colored wall.
“I—it’s—I don’t know what you’re talking about, Antonakas. I said nothing about fantasies.” She gave him an indignant glance before looking over his shoulder at the brightly colored wall.
Taking her by the hand, Nikos smiled over his shoulder. “I know what I heard, Bennett, but I’ll let you slide until a later date. We have a room with no windows or lights to find.”
They ended up in his bedroom. “You do, too, have windows in here,” she accused.
“Hang on to your skirt there.” Tugging her fully into the room, her feet sinking into the plush carpet with each step, he stopped at the bedside table and picked up a remote. With a click, shades slid from the tops of the windows to the sill, blanketing the room in total darkness.
In fact, it was so dark Frankie could no longer see two feet in front of her. As Nikos pulled her near, she stumbled, falling into his hard chest with a grunt.
Her body tensed, but Nikos molded her to him, soothing her with the strength of his arms, letting the warmth of his length seep into hers. Frankie relaxed in increments, sighing while shivers of anxious anticipation slithered along her spine. Her arms wound around Nikos’s neck like they were meant to rest there.
He nuzzled the top of her head, inhaling, his wide chest expanding against hers, making her nipples rub with delicious friction against her bra.
“So, about the naked thing,” he muttered, kissing her earlobe.
“What about it?” she mumbled back, lost in the sway of their bodies.
His fingers ran the length of the edge of her shirt, toying with her, teasing her hot flesh. “You ready for it?”
Her breathing hitched.
Yes. No. Yes, yes, no.
“Is this a sticking point, or is there room for negotiation?”
Yes. No. Yes, yes, no.
“Is this a sticking point, or is there room for negotiation?”
Nikos’s chuckle was thick and sinful. “I hear it’s part of the deal, but I’m pretty creative. I’m sure I could find a way to work around it. Though, I’ll just say here and now, I think you’re worried over nothing.”
“That’s because you haven’t seen me and my ribs sticking out or the cellulite on my thighs.” Her stomach jolted at the idea of his perfection meeting her imperfection in a blend of perfect imperfection.
“And I won’t because I can’t see two inches in front of me. So we’re good to go?”
Point. “Wait. One more little niggle. What
if
I’m really crappy in bed? What
if
, because I am a total novice, and I don’t know much more than a recently deflowered eighteen-year-old about, you know, stuff, I end up being the pits in the sack? Will you laugh at me behind my back with Simon and Marco while you slug back brewskis and eat chicken wings?”
if
I’m really crappy in bed? What
if
, because I am a total novice, and I don’t know much more than a recently deflowered eighteen-year-old about, you know, stuff, I end up being the pits in the sack? Will you laugh at me behind my back with Simon and Marco while you slug back brewskis and eat chicken wings?”
“Simon doesn’t like beer. He’s a booze snob, and we all know what happens to Marco when he slugs back anything alcoholic. But I’m sure he’d be the voice of admonishing reason in our quest to mock your skillz,” he teased against her ear, entwining his fingers with her shaking ones.
“So you will laugh at me. I should have known you were too good to be true,” she joked back, knowing full well Nikos was trying to ease her fears.
“It’ll only be just a snicker, but then I’ll move on to the next postdivorce ex-trophy wife and forget all about you and your not-sowicked bedsport ways. Promise.”
Frankie smiled. “I’d feel so much better knowing you’d move forward with such eloquence and tact.”
“I’m nothing if not eloquent, and on a serious note, Frankie, here’s the deal. Let’s just say, for all intents and purposes and to ease your apprehension, we don’t see fireworks and rainbows. I guarantee you it’ll be a helluva lot of fun working that out until we get it right. I do have faith we’ll get it right, if not tonight, eventually.”
Oh, this man. Either he was the smoothest operator this side of the Mason-Dixon, or he was a really genuine find. In a diner. In Jersey. Of all the places.
God, please—don’t let him be like Mitch. Please, please, please, don’t let me get this wrong again. I just can’t be a loser in such a big way more than once in a lifetime.
“You’re a very patient, decent man, Antonakas. Or you’re full of shit.”
God, please—don’t let him be like Mitch. Please, please, please, don’t let me get this wrong again. I just can’t be a loser in such a big way more than once in a lifetime.
“You’re a very patient, decent man, Antonakas. Or you’re full of shit.”
Another chuckle rippled from his throat. “Well, you won’t know that until the day after, and I’ll have achieved my dastardly goal by then. So I have time on my side.”
“You’re very charming . . .” Jesus. That word.
“And that reminds you of Mitch.”
“How did you know?”
“I met him. My kind of charming is a whole different breed, Frankie.”
The sincerity in Nikos’s voice was definitely different than Mitch’s brand of genuine. It was a subtle difference, but it was there.
Her sigh was shaking, rattling on its way out. “Then, okay . . . I think I’m ready. ‘Think’ being the operative word here. As long as you think you have enough constitution to possibly see me naked in the light. There’s still that. And it troubles me. Big. I mean, moonlight can be a mighty powerful thing. What
if
some of it escapes through your fancy blinds and you happen to see what you’re contemplating, you know . . . uh, tapping. What
if
that very light does happen to escape through the blinds and you do see me naked and it totally squicks you out? That would be embarrassing for both parties concerned, don’t you think? Then things would be even more awkward than when we originally set out to, you know . . . If we planned to do it, then didn’t do it because you freaked out, think about how uncomfortable we’d be when we have to look at each other over a tray of marinating brisket. Oh, the horror—”
if
some of it escapes through your fancy blinds and you happen to see what you’re contemplating, you know . . . uh, tapping. What
if
that very light does happen to escape through the blinds and you do see me naked and it totally squicks you out? That would be embarrassing for both parties concerned, don’t you think? Then things would be even more awkward than when we originally set out to, you know . . . If we planned to do it, then didn’t do it because you freaked out, think about how uncomfortable we’d be when we have to look at each other over a tray of marinating brisket. Oh, the horror—”
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