Suddenly, I had Benny’s hand curled around the side of my neck. He used it to pull me toward him as he dipped his head down so his face was close to mine.

“And that’s why I love you so f**kin’ much,” he declared, and when he did and the way he did, his voice not deep and easy but rough with feeling, I felt my breath catch.

He wasn’t done.

“Not because you’re crazy-beautiful. Not because you’re f**kin’ great in bed. Not because I like the way you dress, do your hair, turn yourself out to go walk the dog like most women would to go to a club. Not because you make me laugh and you don’t take my shit. Not because you wanna organize my office and can make even tuna casserole taste spectacular. Because of all that and the fact you give a shit about everybody. Even people who don’t deserve it. You give enough of a shit that you put yourself out there for them. You feel deep. You give everything you got. And the best part of all that, you got a lot to give and you give most of it to me.”

I stared into his eyes that were burning into mine, feeling his words burrow into me, digging deep, planting themselves inside in a way that I knew I’d not only remember them forever, I’d remember how I felt right that moment for the rest of my life.

“So, you gotta wade into this shit,” he continued, “do it. It’s gonna piss you off and that’s gonna piss me off, but I’m here for you to rant at and I’m here to make the decision when you’re done takin’ their shit. So, babe, you gotta wade in, make your first call. My advice: Chrissy. Nat and Davey are adults and should know by now how to sort their own shit or wallow in it. Chrissy’s got a new baby and she’s probably freaked.”

I didn’t nod, lift my phone, and call Chrissy.

I asked, “Do you know why I love you?”

The intensity of his eyes changed. It didn’t fade, it kept burning strong, just the emotion behind it shifted.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Because I’m awesome.”

“No,” I whispered. “Because you’re everything a man should be.”

His fingers at my neck gripped tighter as his lips murmured, “Jesus.”

“For the first time in my life, the words ‘I love you’ aren’t strong enough,” I told him.

He pulled me an inch closer and ordered, “Stop talking, Frankie.”

I didn’t stop talking. He needed to hear what I had to say.

No.

He deserved to hear it.

“You saved me. Not just when I got shot. When I got shot and you carried me out of there and got me to a place where they could fix me and then you didn’t give up on me. Instead, you gave me family. You showed me it was okay to be me. You gave me you. You gave me everything.”

“Shut it, Frankie.”

“I lost your brother and it broke me. If I ever lost you, I wouldn’t be able to go on.”

I heard Benny’s coffee mug hit the counter before he lifted his other hand, put it to my neck, and slid both back and into my hair as he tilted his forehead to rest on mine, his eyes now scorching with a depth of feeling he let me read.

Then he said, “Francesca, do not say that shit.”

I ignored him and kept going. “I’d breathe. I’d eat. I might one day laugh again. But I wouldn’t be living. There is no life for me without you.”

He was done telling me to shut it and I knew this when his head slanted, his fingers dug into my scalp, and his mouth landed hard on mine. His lips opened, mine did the same, his tongue thrust inside, and I wrapped my arms tight around him, pressing close, tipping my head back to give him more. To give him everything. To use that kiss to show him every word I said was true. To make him feel it. Believe it. All in a way he’d never forget it.

Because he deserved that too.

It took a long time for me to do this, which meant we made out in my kitchen until Gus attacked the wraparound tie strap dangling from my high-heeled sandals. Unfortunately, he did this in a way I couldn’t ignore, mostly because his puppy teeth started digging into the flesh of my ankle.

I still held on after I broke the kiss and looked down at our dog. The cute puppy Benny gave me for my birthday, who would grow up to be a sweet dog we would walk and pet and cuddle, who would give us love, and who would probably let our kids play with him, even if it drove him crazy.

That was when I felt the tears start to wet my eyes.

The promise of Benny. Every day. Everywhere. It was always with me.

I lifted and shook my foot, saying softly, “No, baby.”

Gus didn’t give up until I bent my leg back to get my strap out of reach. At that, he collapsed on his ass, and panting, looked up at me.

“Shoes are off-limits,” I told him, and as I did, Ben’s hands slid out of my hair and down my back so he could wrap his arms around me.

Gus panted some more, then got up and waddled toward the rug I had in front of the sink. He latched on with his teeth, and jerking his head side to side, growling at it, he dragged it out of the kitchen.

“Babe,” Ben called. I took in a deep breath to control the tears and looked up at him.

God, he was beautiful.

My Benny.

He took one arm from around me so he could cup my jaw in his hand.

“I’ll save the rug,” he offered. “You call Chrissy.”

I nodded.

He didn’t move.

Neither did I.

“You good?” he finally asked.

“I’m the best I’ve ever been,” I answered.

His fingers curled deeper into my skin before he demanded, “Stop bein’ so sweet. You don’t, I’ll have to f**k you on the kitchen floor and then we’ll have to go out and buy a new rug.”

“I’m done with that rug,” I told him. Then to take us out of the sweet and heavy because we both needed that, I kept the information flowing, “I’m also done with your kitchen rug. When I move in, we’re gettin’ all new kitchen stuff—towels, rugs, potholders. That is, after you paint it butter yellow and put in new tile. Backsplashes and floor.”

His hand relaxed, as did his expression, and his lips tipped up. “I’m doin’ all that?”

“You have linoleum,” I reminded him.

“You got a problem with linoleum?”

Was he crazy?

“Uh…yeah.”

His lip tip turned into a grin. “Then my baby gets new tile. But even if that rug is bein’ retired, Gus doesn’t need to do that by eatin’ it.”

I nodded my head and remarked, “We have enough on our plate that a trip to the vet would tip us over the edge.”