Burning Down the Spouse Part 24

Maxine tweaked her cheek. "You won't feel that way when you have coffee already made in the morning. It's crucial to a single girl's survival. Besides, you'll need it for those early morning demonstrations at the mall with the Slap Chop."

Nikos had given her later hours at the diner in order for her to take on a part-time position at the mall, ratcheting up his supportive factor to the nth degree. He'd offered to give her a raise, but they both knew he was overpaying her as it was, and as it stood, the diner needed another cas.h.i.+er to replace Adara when she'd gone back to college.

Her refusal hadn't made him angry at all. In fact, instead of trying to save her, Nikos was the one who found the ad for the demonstration hostess and showed it to her.

Which made him crazy irresistible, which was always followed by more of the afraid thing.

Nikos came up behind Frankie, throwing his arm around her shoulder. After almost a month and a half of dating, she was still getting used to her insides always feeling like a bowl of Jell-O whenever he was near. He leaned in, placing his lips against her ear to whisper, "How long before we can get everyone out of here and christen the new homestead in the style to which it's due?"

A chill of delicious antic.i.p.ation swirled low in her belly. Nikos created a special kind of fire in her she'd never expected, and it involved more than just the fire he created in her loins. He made her want to succeed at getting on her feet. He made her want. End of.

More importantly, and more and more frequently, he made her smile secretively, when she was alone and it was just she and Kiki.

"Frankie! I brought you some stuff from Voula, who insisted every good girl should have a set of knives and a meatloaf pan." Cosmos held up a box and several bags. "There's more in the car, and Mama's on her way with Papa."

She took them from him, plopping them in the middle of her living room with a beaming smile. Voula held a warm spot in her heart. She'd coddled and nurtured and encouraged Frankie day by day at the diner until she'd made her feel like she belonged-like she was an integral part of this crazy bunch of unruly clan members and the running of their diner. Even Barnabas had begun to come around with the occasional grunt of approval for her chopping methods.

Each day that pa.s.sed, each moment she spent with the Antonakases, each lunch s.h.i.+ft when she worked side by side with Nikos, had become a soothing balm-a place of respite where she didn't have to be anyone but Frankie.

In increments, she was becoming more successful at tamping down the idea that something or someone was going to take what she'd found away from her. The notion never failed to make her heart skitter sideways.

Which scared the living s.h.i.+t out of her.

These days, she wasn't sure what was scarier-how easy it was to be nuts over Nikos, or how easily everything could fall apart. Yet, deeper and deeper she fell . . .

"Oh, look at our Frankie," Voula cooed, patting Gail's arm as she arrived a few moments behind Cosmos. "She is leaving the tree, eh?"

"Nest, Mama. She's leaving the nest," Nikos corrected, winking at Frankie and leaning in to give his mother a peck on her forehead, his strong, tanned hand cupping her chin.

Voula pinched Frankie's cheeks with a fond smile. "Yes. She leaves the nest like a big girl. I am so proud of our Frankie."

Barnabas followed Voula in, then knelt beside Kiki, scratching her under her chin with an indulgent smile and that little noise of pleasure he made whenever Frankie brought her to the diner to sit in the back office and watch TV with him. He'd even picked up a bed for her to sleep on the desk in. A princess bed with fluffy pink and white marabou fur. "How's my Kooky today? She is a good girl for Uncle Barnabas? Look what I bring for my good girl." He dug in his pocket with a grin, pulling out one of Kiki's favorite new treats.

Kiki preened, her typically solemn approach to almost any situation all but lost when Barnabas paid her even a little attention. Her tail wagged as she burrowed on the chair, giving Barnabas a coy, playful peek from beneath her tiny paws.

His laughter, hearty and rich, made Kiki rise on her haunches to stretch against him and beg to be picked up.

Frankie shook her head at how indulgent he was. "She'll get fat, Barnabas," she chided with a chuckle.

He waved a chubby, wrinkled hand at her in dismissal, tucking Kiki into the top of his gray sweater vest. "Ack. My Kooky is a good girl. Good girls get treats."

Jasmine tapped her on the shoulder. "Okay, sweetie. Gotta run or I'm going to be late to work."

"Heaven forbid you should be late to Fifi's," Simon said with a roll of his eyes.

"Fluffy's, and that job pays for my playpen. So lay off, poor little rich boy, and let's go."

Simon pecked Frankie on the cheek with a grin reserved especially for the kind of crazy Jasmine drove him. "This woman."

"Cosmos, we go," Voula directed. "We don't want to leave Hector alone for too long. Last time he almost burned the whole batch of lamb stew because he flirt with the girls. Frankie? Tomorrow we talk curtains. I make, okay?"

She gave Voula a hard hug and chuckled. There was never any telling Voula no. Whether it was food or curtains. Everyone said yes to Voula. "Curtains. I'm in. I'll see you tomorrow. And thank you, for everything. You're too good to me."

Voula pinched her cheek again with nimble fingers. "You are family. Family needs curtains. Barnabas, come. Put Kooky back and we go see what Hector's doing."

Barnabas gave Kiki one last kiss and an ear scratch, handing her to Nikos, then kissing both of Frankie's cheeks with a wide smile. "Kalh Tuch, Frankie. You are a good girl. Not as good at the chopping as me, but a good girl."

Nikos clapped his father on the back and translated. "That's 'good luck' in Greek."

"Okay, p.u.s.s.ycat. I'm out, too," said Aunt Gail, leaning in for a hug. "I have a hot date with Mona, Mary, and some bingo. You call me if you need anything. I'll miss you, sa.s.safras."

Frankie hugged her hard, forcing back the sting of tears. "What will you miss more, me wandering around in my pajamas with greasy hair, or the big lump in the bed of your guest room?"

Gail gave her a pat on the cheek, b.u.t.toning her coat. "But look at you now, huh? That dirty bird didn't get the best of you. I'm proud of you, kiddo."

Frankie smiled in grateful satisfaction as Maxine and her husband Campbell left behind Gail. She was proud of her, too.

Now that they were alone, Nikos began to organize boxes and gift bags against the wall. He whistled, putting his hands on his lean hips, clad in stonewashed jeans. "You know, Bennett, I'm thinking this divorced, poor gig is a real racket."

Her eyebrow rose. "Why's that?"

"Did you see some of this stuff everybody brought? When I got my first apartment, I had one pot and like a box of dry spaghetti. My own mother didn't bring me even one set of sheets, but you get two. From Macy's-and Egyptian cotton, no less. I don't want to sound petty here, but I'm beginning to feel like my people love you more than they love me." He pouted his bottom lip.

She giggled. "I am pretty loveable."

Nikos gave her the look when he scooped her up, fitting her against him. The one that was a mixture of smoldering black eyes and playful sinfulness. The one that made her toes tingle and her heart thrash around in her chest with giggly, bubbly joy. "Oh, that you are, but loveable enough to buy you an entire kitchen aisle from Macy's? I dunno . . ."

Her glance at him was coy, but her body sought his in the arch of her back. "I am. I can prove it."

Nikos wiggled his eyebrows at her in a lewd response. "Do I have to take you to task, Bennett?"

"Will it involve a cold, hard floor and the potential need for some Tiger Balm?"

His hand slid under her sweater to cup her breast, caressing the underside of it, dragging his fingers along the sensitive tip of her nipple. "If I promise to rub it on all your sore spots, are we a go?"

Like she had the kind of will of iron it took to deny him. The playful, flirtatious side of her, one she didn't know existed until Nikos, twirled a strand of her hair as she leaned back in his arms. "Oh, I don't know. You could just be trying to score, and when all's said and done, I'll be left to try and figure out how to reach the middle of my back while you brag about your coup over a football game and sliders."

He ran his tongue along her lower lip, eliciting a s.h.i.+ver of antic.i.p.ation from her. "I would never brag. Not over sliders, anyway. Maybe peach pie. That always makes me give it up. "

Frankie let her arms slip under his, wrapping them around his waist with more giggling. "Fine, then. Do what you will with me," she said on a mock sigh, fighting to hide the shudder of need rippling through her.

Nikos's laughter was gruff when he pushed her back against the wall and popped open the b.u.t.ton on her jeans. Jeans that now fit the way they used to thanks to some Antonakas love. He slid them over her hips with slow hands, caressing her skin as he went.

Frankie's head fell back against the wall when he kissed his way along the side of her hip and down along the inside of her thigh. Her heart almost stopped, much like it always did, when he reached the most intimate place on her body.

Nikos relieved her of her panties and jeans, lifting her feet to pull her ballet slippers off. His hands were hot, untamed, running over her thighs, down along her ankles, and back up again to rest at her waist. His groan was unbidden, muted against the tender skin of her belly. He used a single digit to take a long draw of her swollen flesh, dragging a whimper of a plea from her lips.

The world tilted when his tongue sunk deep into her, swirling the aching bud of her c.l.i.t with the tip. Her hips bucked against his mouth, hot and all encompa.s.sing. The silken glide brought her fingers to knead at his shoulders as his hands pulled her flush to him, kneading her a.s.s in a circular motion.

Her nipples beaded, painfully tight and hard against her sweater, the delicious friction of Nikos's mouth bringing the white-hot flood of heat she'd begun to allow herself to crave.

When he slid a finger inside her, thrusting it into her with a force that left her gasping, she cried out, her chest heaving forward, her shoulders pus.h.i.+ng against the wall as she rose on her toes to consume every last lick of his raspy tongue.

Frankie drove down hard against Nikos's lips, writhing with blissful pleasure when climax, sharp and sweet, began its upward climb. Her hand gripped his shoulder, the other wound into his hair, gripping the back of his head to keep his mouth as close as she could.

Her o.r.g.a.s.m was a flash of brilliant white light behind her eyelids and the molten grip of sweet relief. She gave a final violent shudder before collapsing against him, boneless and replete.

Nikos s.h.i.+mmied up along her frame while clothes were discarded and breaths of need rang in her ears.

Their bodies met, naked, hot, heaving against each other, their skin sticking and pulling apart as they ground together. Like so many times in the past month, Frankie instinctively raised a thigh, curling it around Nikos's waist. She reached between them, grasping his c.o.c.k, silken and straining against her hand.

His groan, throaty and low, made her smile, much the way it did when she recalled it when she was alone. The sinful pleasure that single sound brought her left her feeling feminine and empowered as she dragged her body along his to kneel in front of him.

His hiss of pleasure when she cupped his tight sac and enveloped him in her mouth made her sigh around him. She'd just begun to learn what brought Nikos the most pleasure, what brought him as close to the edge as possible. Drawing the tip of his c.o.c.k against her tongue, Frankie began the slow downward spiral, letting her lips drag over his hot shaft.

Nikos's hands found her hair, clenching fistfuls of it, thrusting into her mouth until his hiss of need and the tug on her shoulders had her once again, back against the wall.

A condom came from somewhere, sliding onto his c.o.c.k with skill, and then he was above her, taking her lips, devouring her with the thrust of his tongue.

Her hands were frantic, pulling him close, hiking her leg around his waist until she felt the hard tip of his c.o.c.k against her slick entrance. A single drive upward, and Nikos was filling her, groaning against her mouth until he took all focus away but the need to find fulfillment.

Each second, each grind against one another, each crash of their hips sounded out in the small s.p.a.ce. Their breathing became rapid, heaving in and out until Frankie's teeth clenched together from the building pressure.

Nikos cupped her face with one hand, using the other to keep them fused. His mouth pulled from hers to settle on her cheek, his warm breath fanning it as he drove upward.

Frankie could no longer bear the electric current sizzling along her veins, the slap of their flesh, the aching-sweet pleasure he wrought from her. With her b.r.e.a.s.t.s sc.r.a.ping against his chest, her nipples hard and aching, she came in a rush of colors and sounds.

Nikos bucked, too, groaning long and low, stroking her hair, kissing her lips.

Frankie s.h.i.+vered against the shelter of his chest, fighting that swell of completion she harbored each time he smiled, when they made love, when he rested his chin on the top of her head.

Her internal battle for complete emotional independence from anyone or anything warred with the onslaught of this deep-seated need she had for Nikos. The safety his embrace brought her was one she'd never fully experienced with Mitch.

Yet, nothing frightened her more than losing all the ground she'd gained. She never wanted to allow the expectation that someone else would always take care of her to overrule her common sense.

But Nikos drew those very feelings from her, from deep inside her where they were no longer cast aside in favor of sensibility.

"So where's the Tiger Balm?" he teased, withdrawing from her and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Frankie snuggled deeper against him, rubbing her arms. "Forget the Tiger Balm. I'm starving. Feed me, Seymour."

Nikos stopped to gather some of their clothes, wrapping his sweater around her shoulders. She burrowed into it, catching the scent of his cologne and doing that secret-smile thing. "You want me to cook or you want to go out, mistress?" he teased, grinning at her when he handed her her jeans.

Frankie loved to watch him cook for her. It wasn't like watching Mitch cook. Nikos didn't care if crumbs fell on the floor or if egg yolk spattered his ceramic stovetop. It was, instead, a completely relaxing experience, one enjoyed over a bottle of red wine, with her sitting at his small breakfast bar watching while they talked and she skimmed the paper for a part-time job. She cleaned up, sometimes with Nikos's arms wrapped around her from behind as she rinsed dishes. "I'd love for you to cook, but we lack the basic essentials. You know, food. I haven't shopped. Not to mention, I don't have any pots or pans to cook anything in."

Nikos shook one of the wrapped packages on her floor that Maxine had brought over. "I think you probably have a whole kitchen here."

Slipping on her jeans, Frankie smiled. She was so grateful to have found these people who'd dragged her out of her sinkhole of depression and made her choose to not just survive, but to live-really live.

And eat awesome meatloaf.

Her brand-new cell phone, the one she and Voula had shopped for, rang to the tune of "Vacation" by the Go-Go's. Nikos glanced at it, then frowned. "It's Mitch. Again."

Frankie's sigh was exasperated when she took the phone. Mitch had approached her about possibly helping him create some recipes for Mitch in the Kitchen's last three or four shows of the season.

Since he'd asked her, she'd avoided his phone calls when she was with Nikos due to what was occurring right now: the old jaw clench Nikos had perfected to beat back his jealousy whenever the subject of Mitch came up, and unfortunately for her, he came up often-mostly on TV, and ironically, almost always when she and Nikos were together. Though Nikos said nothing, Frankie knew Mitch's constant contact was a bone of contention between them.

Her glance at Nikos was an apologetic wince. "I've been avoiding him for about a week. I really think I should take this, and then we'll hit the Stop & Shop and utilize my mad coupon-clipping skillz. Whaddya say?" Frankie tacked on a sweet smile, flirtatious and cute for good measure.

Nikos's eyebrow rose with a cynical slant to it. Yet he voiced not a single jealous word. "I'll go look for coupons."

With a deep breath, she flipped open her phone. "Hi, Mitch. What's up?"

He coughed into the phone. "I really need you, honey."

Bristling at the word "honey," Frankie narrowed her eyes. "What's wrong?"

His moan echoed in her ear. "I feel simply awful, and I really need to give the producers something that resembles a recipe to keep them off my back. Please, sweetness?"

"Have you told the execs what's going on with you? I'm sure they wouldn't be angry with you, Mitch. You have cancer, for G.o.d's sake."

Nikos coughed his displeasure from his place on her lone folding chair, rooting in the big yellow coupon holder Gail had given her.

"No!" was his quick reply, followed by another cough. "I don't want anyone to know anything. You know what the press is like, Frankie."

Oh, the irony. "Uh, yeah. I kinda do. Remember the headlines, 'Celebrity Chef's Wife Wreaks Wreckage With Wire Whisk'?"

Mitch paused, sending a grating sigh through the phone. "I really could use your help, Frankie. That's all I'm asking. Is it too much?"

f.u.c.k. The pity card. Well played, Sensei. Since her chat with his doctor in the emergency room, and despite the urging of Gail to check the validity of Mitch's pending doom, Frankie had decided she had no right to dig around in her ex-husband's affairs. Legally, she was no longer ent.i.tled to that information anyway.

Yet each time someone brought up the possibility that Mitch was lying, her doubts gave her gut a good, hard twist. Frankie shoved that notion aside in favor of a "better safe than sorry" att.i.tude. She'd never be able to live with herself if she was wrong. "When do you need the recipes, Mitch?"

"Tonight."

"Are you serious?"

"I have been trying to tell you that for a week, Frankie," he scolded with the tone one used for a ten-year-old who'd left the light on in the hall yet again.

"Mitch, some of those recipes took me weeks to figure out! How am I supposed to come up with three in one night?"

"If you'd just called me back . . ."

She ran her fingers over her temple and gave Nikos a sheepish look. "Okay. I'll be there in an hour, providing traffic doesn't prevent it. I'll call you on the way with a list of things we'll need for test runs. Can Juliana pick up the items for me?"

His voice instantly lightened. "I'll make certain of it."

With a click, she turned off the phone, wincing when she caught sight of Nikos's dark gaze. "He is dying, Nikos." It really was the best defense around. How could anyone ever say no to someone when they were dying? What request was too much?