I’d done as he asked and researched various forms of BDSM earlier in the week, but I still didn’t think it was something I wanted for myself. I couldn’t get past the physical pain so many people subjected themselves to, claiming they got off on it. If it worked for them, cool, but I’d never understand it. And as insistent as Calvin was that I educate myself, it was obviously something important to him.
Calvin: But if you’re doing it all on your own, you’re going to burn out. Don’t think you’re fooling everyone when you try and act like you’re not exhausted.
Me: Yeah, well again, someone has to do it.
Calvin: Just promise me you’ll try to get out of there when you’d originally planned. They can survive without you for the night.
Me: I promise.
I tucked my phone away when there was a knock on the office door. Tony, my middle brother, entered without waiting for an invitation and flopped into the chair against the wall. He didn’t say anything and kept eyeing the door as if he expected someone to storm in looking for him.
“Whatcha doin’?” I asked, trying to suppress a laugh.
“Mama’s off the rails tonight, man.” Tony groaned and shook his head. “She’s out there lecturing a couple of my regulars about their behavior.”
“What were they doing?” I didn’t bother disputing his accusations, because it totally sounded like something Mama would do. With normal guests, she’d never overstep, but once clients became regulars, Mama took them under her wing and treated them like her own children. That could be a blessing at times, but apparently, not always.
“Okay, so sure, maybe the one guy crawling into his partner’s lap and nibbling on his neck isn’t appropriate for a public place, but you’ve gotta tell her she can’t threaten them with the damn spoon!” Tony was working up a full head of steam now. Whoever these customers were, he seemed genuinely upset about how they’d react. Or not. “Granted, I’m pretty sure that’s only going to encourage the smaller one, but ugh! She even told them they’re not allowed to get dessert. They’re paying customers! She can’t deny them what they want, can she?”
“I’ll talk to her,” I promised Tony. “For now, you might want to get back out there and save them.”
“You’re not going to save them from Mama?” He looked horrified that I wasn’t going to bail him out. Any other night, I would have, but Calvin made a valid point: I needed to learn how to let go of the reins sometimes. I was trying to run Marino’s the same way Papa had, and look where it got him. He literally worked himself to death. I didn’t want that to be my life. Never had, but apparently I needed the reminder.
“Not this time, buddy.” I did laugh when Tony gaped at me, then explained my logic. “If the customers aren’t complaining about it, let it ride. If nothing else, having a meddlesome mother wandering through the dining room offers that little extra authentic flair people can’t get anywhere else.”
“Dude! Did you not hear me tell you she threatened them with the spoon?” he argued.
“Yep. And I also heard you say at least one of the guys wouldn’t be threatened by that. So calm down and get back out to your table, because shit servicewillpiss them off.”
Tony was almost to the office door when he turned back to stare at me again. “Something going on you want to tell me about?”
“Nope. Everything’s fine.”
“I know, and that’s what worries me,” he admitted. “You’re always so grumpy and serious, but Matteo told me you actually tried to calm him down when he dropped a tray of food tonight. And now, you seem more amused than angry about Mama being—”
“Being Mama?” I finished before he could get riled up again. “Maybe I’m trying to let things roll off my back a bit more. Here I thought that was a good thing since you’re always bitching about what a high-strung asshole I am.”
“Yeah, and that’s kinda my point. You’ve been unusually chill this week.”
Now that Tony mentioned it, I realized this was the first week I could remember since Papa dropped Marino’s in my lap I wasn’t resenting my family going into the weekend. I was wound tight, but it was different than usual. There was only one thing that’d changed: Calvin. That was a conversation I wasn’t ready to have with my brother, so I simply shrugged.
“I suppose I have. It’s helped that I haven’t been holed up back here staring at reports until my eyes cross.”
“Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”If only it was that simple.
5
Calvin
I wokebefore the sun on Saturday morning, anxiously waiting for Frankie to roll out of bed. Returning the favor from earlier in the week, and possibly to show him just another example of the gentler side of BDSM, I grabbed my wallet and slid into my shoes, closing the front door as softly as possible as I left. Yes, I was a deliberate man who would undoubtedly take control of certain aspects of Frankie’s life if allowed the opportunity, but I wasn’t into hardcore pain or anything terribly messy. Today was about proving that to him. He probably didn’t even realize I’d already been giving him a taste of what I craved in a relationship.
When I arrived back at the house, a box of assorted pastries in hand, Frankie’s bedroom door was still closed tight. Good. One of the first things I’d noticed about Frankie after he moved in was that he worked far too much for far too little. It wouldn’t have been so hard to watch if he didn’t seem miserable all the time. That was why my first risk had been trying to encourage him to get more sleep and take better care of himself.
As I straightened up the house the way I did every weekend, I began to consider I might’ve made a colossal mistake trying to engage in a relationship of any sort with Frankie. We weren’t friends, we didn’t know anything about one another. And while my gut told me the risk would be worth the reward and my dick told me the rewards would be sweet, my mind screamed that I was going to wind up living alone before nightfall and trying to figure out how to pay for Ryan’s hockey.Thatwas enough to give me pause. I’d been so focused on the attraction I’d felt the moment I opened the door and saw Frankie’s face for the first time, the way my libido went into overdrive when I caught him giving a guy head in the storage room at the bar, that I hadn’t considered the consequences of my lust.
“Are we finally going to talk or are you going to put me off again?” I paused before turning to say good morning to Frankie, wondering if I’d been delaying this moment because I subconsciously knew it was stupid to consider ruining an amicable arrangement simply because I thought Frankie and I could each bring to the table something the other needed.
By the time I opened my eyes and turned to face the rest of the house, Frankie had disappeared into the kitchen. One of the bar stools scraped across the granite floor. I could almost picture him leaning against the counter for support while he lifted the morning’s first mug of coffee to his lips. It was a refreshing change to see his eyes bright and trained on me when I followed him into the room. I offered him a simple smile as I pulled out the box of pastries.
