142 - Hero's Return

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[9:52 PM]BABES:  Why aren’t you home yet?

Because they didn’t give up grilling me like some damn thug until half an hour ago.

Tony sagged into the back seat of the hired car that had been graciously provided by his brother.  Transportation options had been limited since he had Dorothea take his vehicle to get herself and the kids home.

[9:53PM]TONY: On my way. Abt 10 min

[9:54 PM]BABES: K. I’ll be waiting in my room.

That brought a lopsided grin to his face.  That single text message wiped away the rigors of the police inquiry. 

Unfortunately, the grin was stolen with the next vibration of his phone.

“Hello?”

“Anthony,” his mother greeted him.  “You didn’t call.  What did the police say?  Are they putting you in jail?”

“No, Mom, they’re not putting me in jail.  They just asked a bunch of questions.”

“And what about Jonny and…  Petey? ” 

At least she’d used Petey’s name and not something impersonal like, ‘that woman’.

“They got released before I did.  Nobody’s in jail.”

“Oh.  That’s good.  Very good.”  With that, she went quiet.

“Mom?  Did you want something else?”

“Yes, actually.”  She cleared her throat.  “I wanted to say that I’m proud of you.  The way you stepped up for your brother…”  The thought dangled there, incomplete.

Incomplete or not, it was totally unexpected.  So unexpected that he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to it.  He ended up choosing a neutral, “I just did what needed to be done.”

“I know.  You always do.”  A noisy sigh rattled over the line.  “Dorothea’s right, Anthony.  You’re a good man.  I’m not just proud of you, I’m proud of who you are.   And I am genuinely sorry about the way I’ve been behaving.”  There was a hesitation, and she offered a reluctant, “I am also…  pleased about your engagement.”

No, she clearly wasn’t.  But at least she was trying to pretend.  It was a start.

“Thanks.  That means a lot to me.”  And it did.  He might not be a young boy who needed his mother’s approval, but it was nice having it.  For everyone’s sake it was better if the whole family was on the same page.  “You gonna call Jon and Petey?” 

“I’ll probably call Jonny.  Why?  You said nobody was in jail.  Is something else wrong?”

It hadn’t been his intention to wig her out or send her mama bear instincts into hyper drive.  “No, nothing’s wrong.  Tonight you showed Petey that she’s part of the family.  I just thought it might be nice if you told her that, too.” 

The car pulled through the gates at the house on the Navesink.  The welcoming light in the upstairs window made it feel a whole lot like home.  “I gotta go.  I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Alright.  Tell Dorothea I said hello.”

“I will.  I love you, Mom.”

Choosing to end his call on the perfect note, he didn’t give her a chance to respond before disconnecting.  Tony felt more lighthearted than he had in ages.  He had the woman he loved and his family was of one accord again, and safe. 

As safe as they ever were with Jon’s crazy stalker fans driving up and down the road, anyway.

Tony reached across the front seat, shaking the driver’s hand and sliding a folded bill into his  hand.  “Thanks, man.  I appreciate it.”

“No problem, Mr. Bongiovi.  Have a good night.”

He was sure as hell gonna try.

☠ ☢ ☠

Dorothea set the Kindle aside and checked the clock again.  It had been fifteen minutes since his last text.  Where the hell was he? 

A frustrated hand tunneled through her hair.  Dorothea was feeling inexplicably antsy. 

After the shooting, Tony hadn’t been able to do anything more than give her a quick hug and pass over his car keys.  She was worried that…  Well, she didn’t really know why she was worried.  She just needed to see him and make sure there was no reason to be worried.

Stop being a damn mother hen.  He’s a grown and very capable man.  He’s not going to crumble to bits because he shot someone.  That’s apparently your job.

Huffing and cursing at herself, she threw back the heavy comforter and let her bare feet hit the floor.  There had to be something to occupy her mind until he got here.  She could brush her hair again, for the third time.  Or stare out the window some more.  Or –

The doorknob turned, and her head whipped around to find Tony stepping over the threshold.  He closed the door behind him and gave her one of those tender smiles that he saved just for her. 

He was okay.  No visible signs of a scarred psyche, no worry lines in his face.  His hair didn’t look like he’d been rubbing at it in frustration.  No.  He was just Tony.  Her Tony.

Dorothea’s eyes pricked with the threat of tears, but she stubbornly blinked them away.  Everything was fine.  There was no reason for that crap.

“You gonna stand there and stare at me all night, or are you gonna get over here and hug me?”

Narrowing her eyes in mock anger, she deliberately dragged her feet and took twice as long to cross the room as was necessary.  When she finally reached him, a wry smirk sat upon her face and she responded with a quiet, “Don’t screw with me, Bongiovi.”

He gave her the same wry grin and hauled her into his arms.  In the midst of his warm and possessive hug, he mumbled into her hair, “Funny, that’s just exactly what I was hoping to do.  Bongiovi.”

Eager arms slithered around his waist and she buried her over-wide grin in the crook of his neck.  Her heart swelled with pride, relief, and all the sappy things that a woman approach fifty years of age should be jaded to.

“We might get around to that.”  She touched her lips to the underside of his jaw in a light kiss.  “I want to hear what the police said.”

“Can’t that wait?” he protested, hands sliding down over the thin fabric of her sleep pants to cup her butt.  “I missed you tonight.”

With a chastising frown, she reached behind her to relocate his hands about six inches north, to her waist.  “No.  I don’t even know how the hell you ended up being in a position to shoot the man, when all you did was go out for a cigarette.  Talk.”

“At least give me a kiss first,” he bargained, nuzzling at her cheek.  “Did I mention that I missed you?”

Like she could resist that?  And, really, why would she want to? 

“Fine.  One kiss.”

Her arms snaked up until her hands were buried in the back of his downy soft hair.  Levering up on tiptoe, she was a breath away from tasting him when he drew back to give her a shrewd look.

“You know I can see straight through that indifferent bullshit.  Right?”

Dorothea bit her lip to keep from smiling.  He was one of the few who could see through her sometimes careful façade.  He got her, and it was a good feeling.

“If you see through it, then kiss me already.”

Loving fingers tangled into her hair and tugged so that her face angled up toward his.  “Okay, but only because you’re so sexy and irresistable,” he told her with a smile before settling his mouth over hers.

The now familiar weight of his lips stole away any lingering worry she may have had.  The gentle scrape of whiskers on her face sent shivers down her spine.  Her body remembered how those whiskers felt in other, more sensitive, places.

Sliding his tongue in with a quiet sound of pleasure, Tony filled her mouth with his presence and his taste.  The faint flavors of smoke, beer and coffee mixed with the familiar taste of him.  Dorothea’s fingers curled into a fist at the back of his head, bringing him closer. 

Heat zinged low into her belly and spread like wildfire.  She clung to his neck like a vine and tried her damnedest to fuse their bodies together by plastering herself against his chest.  He felt so good.  Solid and sturdy.  Capable. 

Using the grip on her hair to his advantage, he pulled back just far enough to distance their mouths.  Dorothea whimpered in protest at the separation, and the fingers that weren’t tied in her hair languidly traced her jawline. 

“Does this mean we can skip the talking for now?”

Legal matters before carnal matters.

“No.”  She blinked to clear her clouded eyes and sucked in a deep breath.  Damn him.  She was normally much better than that about getting distracted.  He had a tendency to make her lose her focus. “Details, man.  I need details.”

Quirking a skeptical eyebrow, he confirmed with another lazy stroke of her skin, “You sure?”

“Yes.”  She eased out of his grip and encouraged him to follow her over to the big bed.  “Take off your shoes, crawl in bed and talk to me.”

“Seriously?”  A slow head shake conveyed his disappointment.  “You want me to talk about that stuff in bed with you, before we have sex?  You’re a cruel woman Dorothea.”

“It’s horrible how you’re mistreated, I know.”  Plumping the pillows behind her back, she waited for him to shuck his socks and scoot his butt across the comforter until they were hip to hip.  She knew he wasn’t all that comfortable in his jeans, but if he weren’t wearing pants, that would be a huge deterrent to this conversation.

She aligned herself on his right side, tucking up under his arm and poking his ribs lightly.  “Go on.”

They stayed that way until she’d heard about the smoke and drink with Henry, and their stumbling into the exchange between Daniel, Petey and Jon.

“I knew I had to do something, so I kept as quiet as I could until I was close enough to pistol whip him if I decided to.”

A slow shudder rolled up her spin.  “When I came out and saw you with that gun…  I just knew you were going to kill him.”

“If you hadn’t come out…” His chin lightly rested on her crown.  “…I might have.  Hearing your voice made me consider what the consequences might be.  I pussed out because I didn’t wanna take a chance on screwing up my future with you.”

“You didn’t puss out,” she contradicted with a mild punch to his thigh.  “You saved Jon’s life – and Petey’s.  Don’t you know how amazed I am by you?  And so very, very proud?”

“Mm.”

Dorothea reared up and pulled his chin around, glaring into his eyes.  “Don’t you ‘Mm’ me, Anthony.  You didn’t kill him just because you could, like some damn hit man.  You lived up to your obligations as a brother, as a… well, husband, and as an uncle and step-father.  And you did it well.  Don’t ever doubt that.  Do you hear me?”

The way with which he tried to duck his head in embarrassment was priceless.  With all the Jersey-boy attitude and confidence he had, he still didn’t take compliments worth a damn.  “Yeah, I hear ya,” he grumbled.  “And it reminds me that Mom called on my way home.”

“Your mother?”  Her hackles rose instantly and she released his chin.  No wonder he wasn’t feeling good about this.  If Carol had…  So help her God… “What did she have to say?”

Head falling back against the headboard, Tony slid a hand up around her neck and gently manipulated the tense muscles there.  “A couple things.  Apologized again.  Said to tell you hello.  That she was proud of me and she’s… ‘pleased’ about our engagement.”

Miracles do still happen.

She wanted to be bitchy and speak the words aloud, but she refrained.  If Carol was sincerely trying to patch things up with her middle son, then Dorothea wouldn’t do anything to deter it.  “That’s nice.  You feeling good about it?”

“I am,” he thoughtfully confirmed.  “Things are finally falling into place for us and our family.”

It just went to reinforce what she’d already said – he was a responsible family man.  All the Bongiovi brothers were, but there was something about Tony’s determined tenacity.  She had a feeling that, if she were the one whose life was in danger, he wouldn’t have pulled his punches.  He would’ve killed the guy. 

The belief both frightened and comforted her. 

Swiveling her legs around, Dorothea shifted until she had a knee planted on each side of his hips and leaned her palms on his chest.  “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Blue eyes sparkled with pleasure.  The weight of his hands was heavy and warm on her hips when he drawled, “Maybe.  Wanna tell me again?”

“How about I just show you?”