Page 82 of The Worst Best Man

“Is it him?” May was clamoring over the couch to get a better view. The woman did aquacise classes three times a week at the YMCA and was in better physical shape than most of the rest of them combined.

Frankie: I’ll be right out to escort you in. Did you bring any security with you? My ma is humping the couch trying to get a better look at you. I’m not sure if I can hold her back.

Frankie dropped her phone on the coffee table and dashed out the front door and down the two steps from the cement stoop. Aiden got out of the car looking good enough to eat in charcoal gray slacks and a burgundy sweater. Her mother would think he dressed up to meet them and give him bonus points. Frankie didn’t want to admit it, but she’d changed twice, matched her bra to her underwear again, and applied work day makeup.

She met him on the skinny concrete walk that led up to the house and stopped short. Every single family member, minus her father, would be plastered to the front window. She wanted to kiss him, but she didn’t want to give them a show.

Sensing her hesitation, Aiden gave her a smile. “If you shake my hand it’s just going to make them talk more.”

“I’m just going to go ahead and apologize now. Because this was a huge mistake, and I’m so sorry I got you into it.”

“Relax, Franchesca. We’re going to lunch, not war.”

She snorted. “Shows what you know. In this neighborhood, they’re usually the same thing.”

“I’m going to kiss you,” he warned her. “And then we’re going to go inside and have lunch. And then I’m going to take you home and fuck you.”

The thrill rushed over her as he reached for her.

“Fine, but no tongue. You know my pants fall off when you do that.”

He was grinning at her with something like joy. He laid a very chaste kiss on her mouth before pulling back.

“How was that?”

“My pants still want to fall off. Let’s get in your car and drive away and jump straight to the sex,” she suggested.

“After,” he promised. “We’ve got business to attend to first.” He held up the flowers and wine.

“Jesus, Aide. You didn’t bring a thousand-dollar bottle of wine, did you?” Frankie was appalled. The flowers were no grocery store impulse buy either. White lilies and glossy green holly leaves.Ugh. Her mother would love them.

“Relax. I went to a store and paid a respectable price.”

“It better be under a hundred dollars.”

“If I tell you it was, will you please let me in the house?”

She sighed and straightened her shoulders. “Just remember, I gave you the opportunity to run away.”

She led the way inside through the rusting storm door that hit Aiden in the ass when she stopped suddenly because every member of her family was crowding around the twelve slate tiles that acted as the home’s foyer. Geez, why hadn’t she noticed the dust bunnies on the floor trim? And when had the coat closet door started peeling?

“Oh, great. You’re all lurking like turkey vultures. Everybody, this is Aiden. Aiden, this is everybody.”

“Aiden, it’s so nice to meet you,” Frankie’s mom crooned as if she were meeting Frankie Fucking Valli.

Her father grunted and looked over his shoulder at Drew Carey’s face, his version of a “pleasure to meet you.”

“Hey, nice to meet you, man,” Marco said, offering a hand. “This is my girl, Rach.”

“Wife actually and future mother to his child,” Rachel said pointing at her belly.

Aiden shook all the appropriate hands and greeted them more warmly than Frankie thought they deserved.

“Hey, good to see you again, Aide,” Gio said, pulling Aiden in for one of those one-armed buddy hugs.

“Again?” True to form, May latched onto that statement with a talon. “You’ve already met.”

“Yeah,” Gio shrugged. “He was at Frankie’s apartment last week.”