Burning Down the Spouse Part 22

"The part where you tell me why you acted like I'd taken away your World of Warcraft privileges."

"Yeah . . . the feelings part."

His tone had a distinct ring of disgust to it. A moment of concern struck her. "Is that a problem for you? Talking about your feelings?"

"What do you consider a problem?"

"A problem is when you don't open that mouth of yours-and we both know you're not afraid to do that-and tell me what the problem is. Instead, you clam up and become sullen and moody. You have all these requirements from me, and you definitely didn't have any trouble spitting those out, but I can't have any? Not happening. So I have some, and if you don't like it, then it's like you said-all or nothing. One of those requirements is to tell me when you're p.i.s.sed."

Yes. That was definitely a standard she wouldn't compromise on. No more sneaky, behind-her-back blindsiding. Bamby was enough clunked-in-the-head for one lifetime. Maybe if Mitch had shared his apparent lack of interest in her and their faltering marriage, she could have saved herself the pain of a televised near homicide.

"Okay. I don't love sharing my feelings."

His admission was hard-won. Frankie read that in his tone, but it wasn't enough. Suddenly, absolute honesty was the only thing she'd settle for. Maxine was right about one thing-you definitely learned as you went.

Frankie met his eyes dead-on when she said, "Well, I don't always love it, but I'm not too much of a chicken to do it when it has to be done. Not anymore. So enough of changing the subject, using your good looks and devilish smile to charm me into ignoring the fact that there is a problem, and hit me. Be a brave little warrior now, or I'm going home and there'll be no more communication until you fess up. Not. A. Word."

"You think I have a devilish smile?" He winked, tracing the line of her nose with his index finger, making her insides turn to goo.

Now there was a feeling she was all too familiar with. When Mitch had decided she was his next kill, he'd wooed her with his savvy "man on the hunt for a mate" skills. Oh. No. Her head was on straight this time. No amount of charm and good looks was winning this battle.

She leaned forward, out of Nikos's embrace, tapping Cosmos on the shoulder. He popped the earbuds out of his ears with a question on his face as he pulled off the turnpike.

"There's a McDonald's open-even on Christmas Eve, right? The one just a couple of blocks up the road from the diner? Would you be an angel and stop there for me?" She gave Nikos a pointed look while she pulled a ten-dollar bill from her purse. "I have a sudden hankering for a Big Mac meal. Supersized. Oh, with a milk shake. Chocolate. Wait, no! Strawberry. Ohhhh, and maybe an apple pie, seeing as I missed the one your Aunt Dora makes. You know, the one Voula raves about all the time."

"Sure-"

"Okay, okay. Fine. We'll talk," Nikos spat, his mouth a thin line of reluctance.

Her lips pursed with sour disapproval. "Without the 'tude, thank you. Funny how you can turn that smile on and off at will to schmooze me, isn't it? But I ask one little thing and you're a cranky pants again."

"Look, lovebirds, it's after midnight. Man up, Nik, or shut up. I'm tired, and you know Mama'll have me out in the backyard on that spit, roasting the leg of lamb at the crack of dawn for Christmas dinner. So make a choice or I'm dropping you both here and going home to get into my warm bed where I'll laugh about ditching the two of you in this frozen tundra. Oh, yes, I will. Laugh and laugh."

Nikos grunted. "Go to the diner, knucklehead," then to Frankie, "I said we'd talk."

As Cosmos pulled into the diner's parking lot, Frankie sat back, pleased with herself for not allowing him to steamroll her.

She popped open the door, wincing at the rush of frigid air when she slid to the ground. "Thanks, Cosmos, and have a Merry Christmas. I'll see you at work in a couple of days. Oh, and apologize to Voula for me, would you, please? I'm sorry I took you and Nikos from the party to tend to Mitch."

"Night, Frankie," he called. "Oh, and, Nik?"

Nikos stopped before sliding out the back door. "Yeah?"

With two fingers, Cosmos plucked something spidery and black out of his thick hair. "Tell Frankie she needs more glue."

Her hand flew to her eye. Well, if Cosmos and Co. didn't know for sure she and Nikos had slam-bammed each other, they did now. Her face turned red at Cosmos's chuckle, making her pivot on her heels and run to reach the safety of the warm diner.

Nikos was right behind her, jamming the key into the door, then taking her hand and pulling her inside to push her up against the counter, placing his lips on hers.

The warmth of his mouth gave her legs a reason to wobble, but not her resolve. She placed her palms on his chest in objection. "Food and icky feelings. In that order before I die of starvation or lack of emotional fulfillment." Frankie gave him a shove toward the kitchen, pulling her jacket off and draping it on the back of a stool.

Nikos shoved his way into the kitchen, going to the fridge to dig out some of the party leftovers. Yet he remained silent.

Frankie crossed her arms over her chest, determined to clear the air. "So, how is it that we only decided like three hours ago to become involved, and already your nose is out of joint? As records go, I think we're, hands down, the winners."

Nikos pulled the saute pan from the shelf below the stove and threw a square of b.u.t.ter in it. "I don't know about you, but I don't mind being labeled a winner."

The hearty scent of leftover stuffing wafted to her nose, making Frankie rethink her demand that he take her home if he wouldn't cough it up. So she'd give this one last try. Because she really was starving. "Okay, so here goes-because you're rusty at this. I ask you a question and you answer."

He didn't look up from the pan, but he nodded his dark head, his fluid hands stirring the contents of the pan. "Done."

It's now or never, Frankie. "Who's Anita and what does she have to do with me?"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

From the journal of ex-trophy wife Frankie Bennett: Dear Santa, you're all kinds of awesome drenched in awesome sauce. This year's Christmas present beats an impersonal gift certificate to the spa at the Four Seasons from Mitch, hands down. I think you even managed to beat the year I got the Barbie Dream House and not one, but two Barbies. No easy feat there, sir. Love and a lifetime supply of whatevertheh.e.l.l kind of cookies you like.

His shoulders stiffened, instead of turning around to face the music. Nikos opted to keep his face buried in the saute pan. "You heard."

"Well, I didn't just pick her name out randomly from the universe. So yes, I heard."

"Why do you want to know?" A stupid question meant stupidly to fend off the inevitable stupid explanation he'd have to give. Thus, making him look stupid. Something he didn't have much love for.

"You know why I want to know, because Cosmos mentioned her name in the same breath as mine and that breath wasn't exactly favorable. So who's Anita and why's she such a big deal?"

"She was my fiancee." He heard Frankie's breathing halt, but it didn't thwart her quest.

"So what does she have to do with me?"

Here we go. "Her circ.u.mstances weren't unlike yours."

"She was an ex-trophy wife who worked for you for little more than sweatshop wages?"

Nikos picked up on her tone, teasing and light, but the subject of Anita was anything but light in his mind. "No. She was on the rebound."

Frankie clucked her tongue, coming up behind him to peer around his shoulder. "And that's what makes Cosmos say her name like it's some Satanic curse?"

Nikos's chest loosened a little when he barked a laugh. "No."

"Oh, one-word answers. So insightful. Look, Nikos, if anyone has a right to have some serious issues with spilling their guts, it's me. But here I am, willing to spill my guts if it means we won't have residual leftover bad-relations.h.i.+p c.r.a.p between us before we ever even start. If it's going to affect your mood like it did tonight, then I deserve to know. So I think it's only fair you tell me the crime Anita committed so I can prep for my sentencing. One I don't deserve the rap for, but one that's apparently scarred you enough to make you angry that I even entertained the idea of going to see Mitch. Who's dying."

Fair. That was more than fair. He switched the burner to low, turning around to face the woman he wanted to bring into his life. "I met Anita when I worked in Manhattan. She was a client, just recently divorced from a wealthy, high-profile defense attorney. I was helping her invest her divorce coup long-term. I should have known better. Not only was she a client, but she was also freshly divorced. I should have realized she wasn't even close to working through her issues, but that didn't stop me from getting involved with her. I fell in love, and she claimed she had, too. Until her ex-husband came calling, that is. She went back to him. That's it."

"And it hurt you," Frankie prompted, her amber eyes flooded with understanding.

"It made me do stupid things I don't want to do again." He had a jealous bone. 'Nuff said.

"So because Mitch called, and I went to see him, you were angry because it was too reminiscent of what Anita did."

Her words weren't a question, but they were right on target. Christ, he hated this-this weakness of his for women who'd been crushed. "That thought came to mind."

"I'm on the rebound. So you a.s.sume I'm going to do the same thing and end up wooed by Mitch and his sweet words of love? Are there really any words to make up for him banging Carrie and Bamby, Nikos?"

"For some women? Definitely."

Frankie pursed her lips at him, placing her hands on her hips. "Well, maybe I'm not some women. Look, no matter what happens with me, you, us dating or not dating at all, Mitch and I are done, and I don't care what he says. I'm sorry that he's so sick, but I don't love him anymore. I don't wish him ill, even after what happened between us, but we're never getting back together. If that's not enough for you, then I don't have whatever it is you seem to need."

He grabbed her hand, caressing the soft skin he'd luxuriated in just a few of hours ago. "Look, here's the thing. Anita wasn't completely over her ex-husband. She said she was, but if she'd been over him, she wouldn't have run like a marathoner doing the 5K every time he called. It was always little things like he needed help with something at his hip new bachelor pad or he couldn't remember the phone number of a friend they'd had as a couple. Fredrick, her ex, cheated on her, too, but sometimes that's not enough hurt to stop someone from going back for more."

Frankie c.o.c.ked her head, the fall of her silky auburn hair catching the light in the kitchen, making her more irresistible than ever. "You can't always help who you love. It's sad but true."

"Yeah, well, you'd think the ultimate betrayal in a marriage would cinch the deal, but Anita didn't seem to feel the same way."

"Did she cheat on you with her ex?"

Another question he'd battled with and had to eventually let go of without a clear answer. Nikos shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. She said she didn't, but doesn't everyone who gets caught deny it at first? When I say I understand what you've been through, I do to a degree. The thing with Anita left me pretty raw and definitely overly suspicious. I'm admitting this up front-I can't promise I won't have irrational moments of manly stupidity. Either way, it doesn't matter. Anita's back with Fredrick and it's over."

No one understood irrational better than she did. "How long has it been over?"

"Two years."

Frankie's head fell back when she laughed, the column of her throat enticing and creamy. She cracked her knuckles.

"What's so funny?"

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to make light, but wow. You're way worse off than I am, Antonakas. I've only been divorced seven months now, and I'm not nearly as trashed as you are, and we know for sure Mitch cheated on me. Not to mention, I was married for eighteen years."

"I have a hot temper sometimes. I react before I think. I'll work on it."

"Like I'm one to talk. I've been known to react," she said on a grin.

Nikos pulled her against him, inhaling the scent of her perfume and the remainder of their lovemaking still clinging to her skin. "Is this a compet.i.tion? Who can take the most pain?"

Her arms slid around his neck, a gesture of such ease and innocence, it made his gut clench. "Oh, I know I can take more. I'm a woman. It goes without saying we're made of tougher stuff. We bear children. You lot just put them in us." She smiled, infectiously, flirtatiously, surprising him.

"Speaking of children. Why didn't you and Mitch have any?"

"Mitch wouldn't have made a great father. I realized that early on, and I'm pretty glad I did after hearing Maxine's story, but I'm also infertile."

He gazed into her face, waiting to see a flash of pain over revealing something so personal, but he didn't find any. "And you're okay with that?"

Frankie paused for a moment, making Nikos wonder if she was as okay as she'd first appeared to be. "I really wanted children. I had a great mother. She raised me alone after my father left us, and with the occasional support of my Aunt Gail. We were really close, but she died just after I met Mitch. I wanted to be a great mother, too. It just didn't work out. Something about my fallopian tubes and sperm and all sorts of complicated mumbo-jumbo we didn't look into further because Mitch didn't really want children-he just couldn't say it. Some days, like the day I found out he was doing Bamby, I'm glad. Mitch was a lot of work-adding a child to that would have tipped me right over the edge."

Nikos felt a s.h.i.+ft in his chest, a hard jolt of remorse. "But you wanted them?"

She looked over his shoulder. "Yep. At one time, I did. What about you? Did you want children?"

He smiled. "Yeah. I did."

"And no one ponied up to ride the Antonakas train of love? No one? What has this world come to? Madness surely," she teased with a grin. One that had different components to it he hadn't seen till just now.

"Let's just say, I spent the early part of my adult life going nowhere, thought I'd found out where I was going, then changed directions. I didn't date anyone seriously again until Anita."

Her eyebrow rose. "Again?"

Nikos winced. Yes. Again. He'd done the rebound thing not once, but twice. Which made Frankie number three. Christ, it had to be a charm. "Yep."

"Are there more love misdemeanors I'm blissfully ignorant of, but am sure to be blamed in the name of?" she asked sweetly.

"There was one in college. But in my defense, she'd broken up with her boyfriend back home in wherever she was from. Nebraska, I think. Anyway, they'd broken up until he showed up in his beat-up old Ford pickup with a bouquet of handpicked daisies and a guitar. The very guitar he used to sing a love song he'd written just for her-below my dorm room window."

She laughed again, the sound rich and inviting to his ears. "Oh, that's priceless. c.r.a.ppy, but priceless. How long did you date her?"

"The last year of college. I was going to ask her to marry me."

"Ah, but you didn't have a guitar and daisies, now did you?" she joked.

He took a nip of her lips, now bare of the s.h.i.+ny gloss she'd had on earlier. "Uh, no. Just some meatloaf and gravy."

She tilted her head back. "You know what this sounds like? It sounds like you're a 'damsel in distress' kind of guy. Always rescuing someone. But I don't need to be rescued, Nikos. Just some honesty and some respect will do."

He was a "damsel in distress" guy. Simon said it was because he was a bleeding heart. Stray animals, kids, women-G.o.d save him from the women. "I'm definitely much better at respect and honesty than I am at squishy, girlie feelings."

"Hey," she chided, "if feelings were squishy and girlie, you wouldn't be saving women from their nefarious exes."

"You have a point." She had too many, but still, she was right.

"And for what it's worth, I love meatloaf and gravy, especially Voula's, but I'd kill for peanut b.u.t.ter and jelly at this point. So feed me, Antonakas. Before I keel over. It's been a busy day that began at eight this morning for me. That's how long it takes to put on false eyelashes."

He winked down at her, marveling at this carefree side to her. "Ohhhh, right. Food. So are we done with the caring is sharing? Or do you want to wring more embarra.s.sing relations.h.i.+p disasters out of me?"

She chuckled, tugging at the collar of his sweater. "You can't ever top mine, buddy. I own humiliation and made embarra.s.sing my b.i.t.c.h. But yeah, for now I guess we are. Just do me a favor from here on out?"

Reaching around her, he gave the stuffing one last toss and turned off the stove, still mes.h.i.+ng their bodies together, reluctant to let her go. "Name it."

Those amber eyes, once so dull, gleamed with determination. "Don't skirt things that are important to you and get angry with me for something I have no idea about. You're not allowed to be sullen and pouty and not tell me why. If we're going to give this a test run, it's a real sticking point for me. After Mitch, I think you should be able to see why honesty and telling me what's going on is something I'd want. No amount of charm's going to keep it from eventually coming between us. If Mitch had told me he was unhappy, or for that matter, if I'd told him I was unhappy, he still would have been a lying s.h.i.+thead, but maybe I could've saved myself a run in the tabloids. See where I'm going?"

His spine stiffened. "I'm nothing like Mitch."

Yet hers relaxed against his hands. "And I'm nothing like Anita and Miss Nebraska."