It's a Sweet Life

Chapter Eighteen

The first Monday in March dawned cold and damp, the sky full of gunmetal grey clouds angrily chased across the horizon by a northern breeze that felt like a special delivery direct from the Arctic. Ben frowned at the weather when he looked out the window while waiting for the second pot of coffee to brew.

He knew it would mean a day of misery for Libbie who, after rising, had bundled herself in several layers before moving to the couch, while giving thanks she didn’t have to open the shop.

Allan pulled Ben into the bedroom and whispered, “Maybe I shouldn’t go today.”

“You have to.” He glanced out to where Libbie watched TV on the couch. “I’ll be with her. It’ll be okay.”

“I feel like I’m abandoning her. And that’s such a chickenshit excuse, that I’m going to buy art supplies in Orlando.”

“Hey, it’s not a chickenshit excuse. The bakery is closed today.

It’s the only free day you can go and not worry about leaving her shorthanded downstairs. That’s your rationale.”

Allan scrubbed at his face with his hand. “I still feel like a shit.”

Ken handed him the disposable cell phone they only used to make contact with Miami. “Go. It’s okay.”

Allan returned to the living room and leaned in to kiss her. “Are you sure you’re okay with me going?”

She forced a smile through her pain as she nodded. “I’m okay.

Ken’s here with me. Please, I want you to go have fun. You’ve been working your ass off for me and I really want you to go do this for yourself.”

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After lunch, she announced she wanted to go to Walmart to pick up some things and headed for her purse. Ben frowned when he saw how much pain Libbie was in. He suspected she thought she was hiding it well from him, when in fact her every expression and movement telegraphed it loudly to his trained eye.

He reached over and took her car keys from her. “I’ll go with you and I’ll drive.”

“That’s really sweet, but—”

“But what?” He arched an eyebrow at her. “I don’t have anything going on this afternoon that can’t wait until tomorrow. You’re obviously in a lot of pain. I’m driving you, and that’s that.”

He suppressed his wistful sigh at the sweet pink blush that colored her cheeks. “Thank you,” she softly said as she picked up her purse from the table.

He did love her, even though he knew he couldn’t tell her. It wouldn’t be fair to her, especially since she’d never said it to them.

How will I ever say good-bye to her?

It was something he refused to think about.

He offered her his arm. “You’re very welcome,” he said as she finally slipped her arm through his. He patted her hand. “Are you going to be warm enough dressed like that?”

She nodded even as she tugged a little at her fingerless gloves.

“Yeah.”

He slowly walked with her downstairs and out the back door, locking it behind them. “I worry about you,” he said. “I don’t want you overdoing things.”

“I’m okay.”

He drove them to the store, offering his arm to her and keeping his pace slow to match hers. “What are we after today, anyway?”

She pulled a list from her pocket. “Assorted odds and ends.” She looked up at him and smiled. “And we’re almost out of Astroglide.”

He laughed as he leaned in to place a kiss on her lips. “I’ll be the gentleman and go grab that for you. I suppose I should get more It’s a Sweet Life 189

condoms, too?”

“Yeah. At the rate we’re using them, though, we might need to see if we can purchase them in bulk somewhere.”

“I’ll take the cart and go do it. Where will you be?”

She handed him the list. “I need some new socks. I’ll go get those and catch up with you by office supplies. I need a few things there, too. If you want to grab me shampoo and toothpaste while you’re over there, that would be great.”

“Done.”

He headed over to the health and beauty section and quickly found lube, condoms, and other items on her list from that section. As he headed over to the office supplies, he wasn’t paying any attention to his surroundings as he scanned the shelves for the items on her list.

Pens, printer paper, envelopes.

That was why he was startled, his head snapping up at the woman’s voice, when she called out.

“Allan!”

He turned, ready to shove the cart into the person and run, if necessary. But the young woman, wearing a tight sweater and even tighter jeans, was too fast for him and threw her arms around his neck.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

His mind raced. He had no clue who this woman was. That she called him Allan briefly blipped his see-I-told-you-so meter to mention to Allan later.

For now, he had to get away from her.

“Um, hi.”

She planted a kiss on his cheek before stepping back, her hands on her hips. “Leeza Maxwell.” She poked him good-naturedly in the chest. “You don’t remember my name, do you?”

“Sorry, Leeza. Yeah, just took a moment to process. Didn’t expect to run into you here. How are you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Stuck living here with my sister, if you can believe that.” She grabbed his shirtfront again and pulled him in. “I 190 Tymber Dalton

miss Miami. I don’t suppose you’re single and available right now, are you?” He tried to pry her fingers loose without hurting her, but didn’t manage to do it before she planted a kiss on his lips.

“Actually, yeah, I’m seeing someone. Sorry. And we’re only here for a little while. Just visiting family.”

“Dammit. I knew I should have tried calling you when I moved away.” She didn’t appear to be seriously upset, however.

Thank god. The last thing he needed was an attention-drawing lover’s spat with one of Allan’s club bimbos in the middle of Walmart.

Although that likely wasn’t the most dysfunctional event to ever occur in the aisles of a Walmart.

Libbie let out a soft sigh as she watched his ass in his jeans as he walked away with the cart. They were both good-looking hunks of men.

I still don’t understand what they see in me, but I guess I should quit questioning it.

She found herself some warm socks, as well as two new flannel pj sets that would help keep her warm throughout this cold snap. As she made her way across the store to the office supply section, she froze at the end of the aisle.

There, Ken stood talking with a woman.

Libbie watched from the far end of the aisle as the woman tried to rub herself against Ken as she kissed him. Without thinking, Libbie shifted everything to one arm and fumbled her phone from her pocket with her free hand. She quickly snapped a couple of pictures.

He can’t deny it and say I was wrong. He can’t lie and say I imagined it.

No bullshitting his way out of it. And she wouldn’t be tempted to pretend she was mistaken. She’d already caught them in one whopper It’s a Sweet Life 191

of a lie, that they weren’t gay.

Okay, not that it was a bad lie, because damn, she benefitted from the truth.

And she had ignored the fact that their truck hadn’t had a Nebraska plate on the front when they arrived. Maybe they did hit the DMV office like they’d said. And the weird feeling that Charles had lied when she questioned him about his knowledge of Cuban sandwiches.

And what about Charles? Was he lying the same way Ken was?

What else had they lied about?

Who’s to say what they might lie to me about?

It felt like a block of ice now resided where her heart had strongly beat for the men.

And I was stupid enough to fall in love with them.

She stepped out of the aisle and into a different one to get herself under control. She’d sworn she wouldn’t do it, that she wouldn’t lose her heart to them. That it would be about fun and sex and getting some help in the shop in the bargain and extra money to help pay the bills every month.

But that she wouldn’t fall in love with the men. Either of them.

As hot tears threatened to sting her eyes, she knew that was exactly what she had done—fallen in love.

With both of them. On Halloween night, the first time they’d made love to her, she’d lost her heart to them even though she wouldn’t open herself to more pain by admitting it to them.

How fucking stupid am I?

After a few minutes of deep breaths to calm her shaky nerves, she returned to the aisle where he was and found him alone, looking over the pen selections as if he hadn’t just had another woman in his arms.

Two can play that game.

She dumped her stuff in the cart.

“You all right?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m fine. Let’s get this done and over with.”

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They got the rest of the items on her list. Any time he spoke to her, she kept her answers short, monosyllabic when possible. Staying in front of him the entire way, she swiped her credit card at the register and let him deal with loading the bags in the cart. Then she briskly marched in front of him all the way to the car, waiting while he unlocked the door for her and let her in. He rounded the car to pop the trunk and start the car so the heater would run for her.

Libbie pressed her lips tightly together to keep the scream locked inside her throat. If she started, she feared she might not be able to stop.

They might have shattered her trust, but they wouldn’t take her dignity from her. She’d wait until she was home and alone and safely locked behind a closed door before breaking down and crying.

She heard Ken close the trunk. When he walked around to the driver’s door and got in, she turned to the passenger window, unable to look at him.

He didn’t put the car in gear. Despite the heavy silence, she kept her eyes fixed on the bank building at the far end of the parking lot.

“What’s wrong?” he softly asked.

She shook her head, still not trusting her voice.

She felt him touch the back of her left hand and forced herself not to flinch. “Libbie, talk to me, sweetheart. What happened? What’s going on? Something happened in the store, and I want you to tell me what.”

With pain building inside her chest, she finally let go of it and allowed it to burst from her. “I saw you. I saw you with that woman in there. I saw her all over you and saw her kiss you. And I heard her call you Allan. Take me home. Now.”

“Libbie, listen to—”

“I’m done listening. You guys aren’t gay. You aren’t from Nebraska, either, probably. You have a girl. The lies stop here and now. I’m done. I—”

“Libbie!”

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She jumped at the force and depth of his voice. Her head involuntarily swung around, her eyes meeting his. She thought he was going to say something else, but instead, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Opening it, he laid it in her lap without a sound.

The badge cast a shine in the late afternoon sunlight. Blinking, she looked up and stared at him.

“Go ahead,” he quietly said. “Then we can talk. It’s time you know it all, I guess. We never planned to get involved with you. We didn’t want to put anyone at risk.”

With her fingers trembling, she silently read the inscription on the badge. Miami-Dade. She flipped past that and saw another driver’s license. The picture with Ken’s blue eyes, but with shaggy, dark hair and his face covered with a dark beard and moustache.

Benjamin Donohue, with a Miami address.

A Florida concealed carry permit, with the same picture and name. A photo ID from the Miami-Dade Sheriff’s Office.

She flipped through it. Credit cards, a bank card, Social Security card, voter registration card.

All in the name of Benjamin Donohue.

Trying to catch her breath, she slowly looked at him. Both his hands rested on the top of the steering wheel, his gaze transfixed somewhere out in the distance ahead of them.

“Who are you really?” she whispered.

Without looking at her, his voice sounding tired and drawn, he softly said, “Detective Benjamin Donohue, Miami-Dade Sheriff’s Office. I spent three years in deep undercover to bring down the Bianco crime family.”

She looked back at his wallet, once again flipped open to the badge. “Why are you here?”

“We’re in hiding.”

“We?” She closed her eyes. “Duh. You and Charles.”

“Allan,” he softly corrected.

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She felt her heart clench. “That woman in there called you Allan.”

He slowly nodded, then finally looked at her. “We’re not cousins.

We’re identical twins. Allan is an assistant state’s attorney on the team prosecuting the case. She thought I was him because when we went into hiding I made myself look like him and made him totally change his appearance.”

Her mind swam with questions. She suddenly remembered the night she’d heard Charles… Allan, call Ken… dammit…Ben “bro”

while they were making love to her.

The only word she could give voice to was, “Why?”

He released the steering wheel and she allowed him to carefully take her hands in his. He brought them up to his chest and tucked them into his jacket. Beneath his shirt, she felt his heart pounding.

“Let’s get the groceries home and I promise I’ll tell you everything.

Okay? No more lies. The whole truth.”

She nodded, not understanding why he now sounded so sad.

And worried what it meant.

Despite the countless questions swirling through her mind, Libbie kept herself quiet all the way home. When they got there, Ken— Ben, she reminded herself—helped her upstairs to her apartment before going back for the groceries.

When he got everything put away, he went to his apartment and brought back a laptop. Settling next to her on her couch, he brought up The Miami Herald’s website, keyed in a search, then handed the laptop to her.

BIANCO FAMILY TRIAL TO PROCEED read the headline. The story, a Sunday feature piece from several months earlier, detailed how undercover detectives had gathered enough evidence to make an arrest of a mob family member, which led to even more charges on the state and federal level. While Ben wasn’t mentioned in the article, It’s a Sweet Life 195

it did have a picture of one of the lead prosecutors in the case.

And while he looked like Ben, she could tell from the expression in his eyes it wasn’t, that it was Charles. Or Allan, or whatever his real name was. The cutline under the picture identified him as Allan Donohue.

Ben remained silent while she read. When she finished, she returned the laptop. “So, where is he? Charles. I mean Allan. Where did he really go today?”

He closed the laptop and set it aside. “He’s on his way back from Orlando by now, I imagine. He really did go there, but not for art supplies, although I’m sure he’ll come back with some. He had to be on conference calls with the prosecution team today.”

“Why Orlando?”

“We use disposable cell phones and put at least fifty miles between here and wherever we call from.” She heard his deep sigh.

“It’s paranoid, but I don’t want anyone able to track us back here to Brooksville. I don’t know that woman who saw me today,” he said.

“Obviously, she’s a friend of Allan’s. I haven’t had a girlfriend in a couple of years, since before I went in undercover with the Biancos. I couldn’t risk it while I was undercover.” He looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

At war within her, anger and love and dread. “How many more lies are there?”

He shook his head, not meeting her gaze. “That’s the full truth.”

“Why Nebraska?”

“Because I’ve got a friend in the DEA at their Omaha office. I went to college with him. He was able to set me up with some quick IDs and backgrounds and I knew he was clean. I trusted him not to tell anyone who we were or where we were living. It was either that, or we would have been forced into protective custody, and no way in hell was I doing that.”

“So…all this has been one big lie? Everything?”

The way he shook his head surprised her. He turned to her and 196 Tymber Dalton

took her hands again. “No. How I feel about you isn’t a lie. I’m sorry you got pulled into this. I never meant for you to get hurt. I didn’t want to fall in love with you, but I did. I’ve never felt about someone the way I feel about you. I love you, Libbie.”

Her mouth snapped closed at his words, nearly biting her tongue in the process. As she stared into his eyes, she realized she no longer gave a damn about protecting her heart. It had already jumped the walls without her permission, running straight to the men a long time ago.

“I love you, too,” she whispered, relieved to finally be able to admit it out loud. “Both of you.”

She felt even more relieved to know he felt the same way.

His expression softened as he opened his arms to her. She crawled into them, letting out a content sigh as she closed her eyes and breathed in his scent.

He kissed the top of her head. “I don’t know where to go from here,” he said. “All three of us. He loves you every bit as much as I do.”

“That’s why you said six months when you first got here, isn’t it?”

she asked, the fact hitting her squarely between the eyes. “Because that’s when the trial starts?”

“Yeah.” His breath felt warm against her scalp.

“So when the trial starts, you’ll both leave, won’t you?”

When he didn’t answer her right away, she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her. As she was about to ask again, he whispered, “Yeah.”

She kept her eyes closed. She didn’t want to think about losing him.

Of losing them.

“What happens then?”

His hand tenderly gripped her chin and tilted her face up to his.

His lips brushed hers before he touched his forehead to hers. “I don’t know about him,” he said, his voice sounding choked. “After the trial, It’s a Sweet Life 197

I plan on moving.”

“Moving?”

When his thumb stroked her cheek, she opened her eyes to find him staring into hers. “Yeah. Moving here. I can’t lose you.” He studied her. “If you’ll have me.”

“What about Allan?”

“That’s for him to decide. If he wants to pick up stakes and move here, then fine. If not…” He let out a sigh she couldn’t interpret.

“Then I guess it’d be the two of us.” He kissed her again. “But the trial is going to be a long one. Several months or longer. I won’t have to testify that whole time, but Allan needs to be there to work with the team and I can’t leave him on his own, unguarded. I’d feel horrible if Bianco got to him because I wasn’t there watching his back.”

“Can you come here on the weekends? Or I could go there.”

He vigorously shook his head. “I won’t put you in harm’s way.

Those people are vicious. They wouldn’t hesitate to stoop to hurting you, especially if they found out how much you mean to both of us. I won’t do it. I won’t risk it. I don’t want you anywhere near Miami.”

She clutched at his shirt. “I can’t lose you. I love you.” She wanted to say it all the time now, to never stop saying it in hopes it would keep both of them forever by her side.

He stood, then easily scooped her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. When she tried to speak again, he shushed her with a finger to her lips. “I love you,” he said, then kissed her.

He slowly undressed her before tossing his own clothes to the floor. While most of her encounters with the men were with both of them together, there was something even more special about having one of them to herself.

Ben rolled a condom onto his cock and slowly entered her. Then he laced his fingers through hers, holding them above her head and leaving her feeling like she was in a safe cocoon formed by his body.

“Slow and steady,” he said, his blue eyes boring into hers. “Try to come for me like this, baby.” He dipped his head and kissed her.

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Libbie closed her eyes and let not just the sweet sensuality of his body, but the knowledge of his love flow through her. She felt connected to him like never before. Moving together, she matched his movements, her clit brushing against his body with every stroke.

When many long minutes later her orgasm struck her, it might have been less powerful physically, but it brought her to tears.

“I love you, Libbie,” he whispered in her ear as his hips quickened, staying with her and waiting until he knew she was finished to pick up the pace even more.

Her fingers clutched at his, squeezing as she felt as well as heard his release.

“I love you, too, Ben,” she said back.

He cleaned up and returned to bed, tucking her into his arms and whispering “I love you” into her hair, softly, until she fell asleep.

She was tightly snuggled against Ben when she heard the men’s truck pull up outside and park under her living room window before the engine shut off. Ben had fallen deeply asleep, his arms securely wrapped around her and his warm breath blowing against her shoulder. Then the sound of the downstairs door opening and closing came to her, followed by Allan’s steps on the stairs.

She still had to pause to think of him as Allan. Although, in retrospect, the name fit him better than Charles.

She heard their apartment door open and close. A few moments later, her apartment door opened and his footsteps crossed the living room.

Libbie looked up when he stepped into the bedroom doorway. He smiled at her and crossed the bedroom, prepared to give her a kiss.

“Hi, sweetie,” he whispered as he leaned in.

She smiled. “Hi, Allan.”

He froze, blinking in shock. “What?”

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Behind her, Ben stirred. “Secret’s out, bro,” he mumbled.

Before Allan could straighten, she grabbed the front of his jacket.

“What about my kiss?”

He smiled, but it looked a little odd. He leaned in and kissed her hello. “What happened?”

She patted the bed next to her. He pulled off his jacket and dropped it on the floor. Then he kicked off his shoes and settled next to her.

“We went to the store,” Ben said, sounding a little more awake.

“An acquaintance of yours thought I was you. She got friendly with me, and Libbie saw it. I didn’t have a choice but to come clean with her.” He brushed the hair away from the nape of her neck and kissed her, making her heart and her pussy flutter.

She poked Allan in the chest. “She’d better be a past acquaintance.”

“Who was it?” Allan asked.

“Some woman,” Ben said. “A Leeza something or other. Said she’ll hit you up on Facebook.”

Allan closed his eyes and groaned. “Shit. Leeza Maxwell?”

“Yeah. That was it.”

Allan looked at her. “Babe, I’m so sorry. She’s definitely a past acquaintance. She was a bartender I dated for a few weeks early last year. She moved and I didn’t keep in touch with her.”

Libbie arched an eyebrow at him. “Dated?”

“Slept with. All right?” He palmed her cheek. “But not now. Now, I don’t want to be with anyone but you.” His eyes searched her face as he waited for her to speak.

“He told me about the trial.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at Ben behind her before holding her gaze again. “It’s going to be a long one, unfortunately.”

“And I can’t see you guys while it’s going on?”

He shook his head. “It’d be too dangerous. Bianco is notorious for using whatever means necessary to get his way.”

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“I thought mobsters didn’t mess with families.”

“They didn’t used to,” Allan said. “Years ago, that was taboo.

Now, they don’t care. And Bianco is too desperate, wants to make as much of this go away as possible. That’s why I’m taking a backseat and only doing support work on the trial, but I still have to be there during the trial. I know the entire case front to back. I’ve practically memorized the files, and no one in my office knows it the way I do.

We don’t want to give them any reason on appeal to use Ben and me being brothers to force a review or retrial for conflict of interest. The Feds have too much involved in this to let it get sunk like that. Our trial comes first, then the Feds are building on that for their case.”

“Then what?”

“What do you mean?”

She felt Ben’s arm tighten around her in support, but she forged ahead. “After the trial,” she softly said. “What happens then? What do you do?”

He smiled and leaned in, kissing her. “I’m thinking a private practice in a small, west central Florida town a little north of Tampa is just what I need now in my life.” His thumb stroked her cheek. “If you’ll have me.”

“Us,” Ben said.

Allan nodded. “Us. Both of us.”

Relief flooded her heart. She sat up and threw her arms around him. “Yes.”

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