At Peace

Chapter Ten Talks

Cal turned his truck into his drive but he’d seen Vi as he drove down the street.

She was working in her front yard wearing a pair of very short shorts that showed off her tanned legs, a dark purple tank top that showed more tan skin and her hair was in a ponytail at the back of her head. He’d have been pissed she was working in her yard without him at home next door but he also saw Colt mowing his lawn, so he knew she was safe.

After he pulled into his drive, he turned his head to her and saw she’d straightened from whatever she was doing and looked his way. She swiped the back of her arm against her forehead, she had something in her hand and she was wearing garden gloves.

He grabbed his bag and got out of the truck. After he slammed the door, his eyes went back to her and she was walking toward him. She’d made it across her drive, was in his yard and she’d lost the garden tool and the gloves.

He headed to his front door and waited for her to arrive.

She did, stopping not a foot away and tipping her head back to look up at him, her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Where’re the girls?” Cal asked.

“At the mall,” Vi answered.

Cal didn’t respond, he turned to his door, unlocked it, opened it, stepped in and tossed his bag to the floor. Then he reached back through the door and yanked her in, slamming the door behind her and backing her against it, his head already coming down to take her mouth, his arms moving around to crush her to him.

She met him, their mouths and bodies colliding, as hungry for it as he was. He moved her from the door and shuffled her across the room to the couch, his hands on her shorts, her hands on the fly of his jeans. Their mouths still going at it, Vi didn’t waste time, pulled him free, her hand wrapped around his hard cock and she was stroking.

He yanked down her shorts and underwear, she stepped out of them and he shoved her back onto the couch, following her down.

In order to distract him while she tried to roll him, she used her tongue on his neck and her nails down his back but he slid a hand from her ass, down the back of her thigh to her knee, gripped it, pulled her leg out and wrapped it around his hip.

“I want the top,” she said into his ear, her voice was a demand which turned into a moan because his hand went from her leg to between them so he could press his finger to her clit. When he did, with the moan, she slid her other leg out from under him and hooked it around his thigh.

“I’m ridin’ you, buddy.”

“No fair, you always get the top.”

“Not always.”

“Most of the time.”

“You can have the top tonight.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

Her mouth came to his, her eyes smiling then he kissed her and feeling her wet, as usual with Vi, his control slipped and he replaced his finger at her clit with his dick in her cunt.

“Joe,” she breathed against his mouth, her breathing his name against his lips forcing him to drive into her harder and she whispered, “I’m glad you’re home.”

Yeah, he was home and it felt fucking great.

He rode her hard and she lifted her hips to meet him, her legs tight around his hips, her fingernails digging into his back and he rode her until she came and longer, until he did.

He stayed buried inside her, his face in her neck, her arms and legs wrapped around him and he listened as her breath steadied.

Eventually, since Vi didn’t seem to be able to be quiet very long, she asked, “How was your flight?”

“Early,” Cal said into her neck and went on, “long.”

“I’ve never been to LA.”

“Not missin’ much, buddy.”

“I heard it’s fun.”

His head came up and he looked down at her, her ponytail spread on his couch, her mouth swollen. Christ, she was beautiful.

He pressed his hips into hers, got off on watching her lips part and her eyelids lower and then he told her, “Never been there for fun.”

She smiled at him and her arm left his back so she could curl her fingers around his neck.

“You should try it.”

“Don’t do much for fun.”

“You should try that too,” she said softly, her fingers coming up to stroke his jaw.

He didn’t reply, just let the tone of her words and her touch settle in.

Yeah, he was home.

He never thought about it, it never entered his mind. He lived his life and went where he needed to be.

But Vi on his couch, he realized for the first time he could remember, it was good being home.

“Is most of your work out there?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you move out there?”

“’Cause LA is insanity, filled with fruits and nuts. Indiana is sanity, meat and potatoes. I’m a meat and potatoes man.”

She’d watched his mouth while he talked then her eyes came to his when she said, “Yeah, fruits and nuts are good on occasion, but you need meat and potatoes.”

He smiled at her, she smiled back then she lifted up her head to kiss him gently which was good, saved him the trouble of bending his head to do the same.

Then a phone rang and her head went back to the couch but twisted to the side.

“That’s my cell,” she told him.

Cal reached out an arm, grabbed her shorts and dragged them across the floor then he pulled her cell out. He looked at it and the display said “Sam’s cell.”

“Sam,” he told her, her eyes got big, she snatched the phone out of his hand, slid it open and put it to her ear.

“Sam!” she cried loudly. “What’s up, baby brother?”

The brother. The brother she obviously cared about because she was still lying under him, his dick inside her and she seemed to have forgotten.

He slid out, her chin dipped, her face grew soft and her lips parted and he grinned at her because all of that told him he’d reminded her and she liked him where he was.

“What?” she said into the phone distractedly. “Sorry, yeah, I’m here.”

Cal moved down her body, pulling her tank up under her tits and then he put his mouth to her ribs.

Her fingers slid into his hair.

“What?” she asked again, his mouth moved down further and she said, “Yeah, things are good. You?” He circled her navel with his tongue, she sucked in her stomach and her breath and she said, her voice sounding choked, “Can you hang on a second?” She tugged at his hair and he lifted his head to see she had her hand curled over the phone and it was away from her face. “Stop it, Joe.”

“You taste good, buddy.”

Her eyes got wide then they narrowed and she hissed, “Stop.”

He slid down further, to between her legs, she scrambled up to get away and he caught her hips, yanking her under him while surging up and covering her with his body.

He put his mouth to hers and he whispered, “All right baby, I’ll stop.”

“Thank you,” she snapped, her eyes still narrow, he grinned at her again and she put the phone back to her ear. “I’m back,” she said and looked at him. “No, it’s nothing, just an annoying neighbor.” Cal laughed softly and shoved his face in her neck so he could run his mouth along her skin. “What?” she asked. “No joke!” she cried. “Yes, definitely, absolutely.” She was silent a second then asked, “Mel too? Oh, Sam, the girls’ll be thrilled to bits.” Another pause and then, “How long?” His head came up, he shifted a bit to the side, settling on an elbow in the couch to watch her talk while he righted his jeans and she said, “That’s all?” Her eyes came to him and she went on. “Well, we’ll take it, even if it’s only a weekend.” Another pause then, “Yes.” Another pause. “You got it, I’ll definitely make it. Kate’ll be beside herself, she hasn’t had my seafood risotto in ages. Anything else you want?” She listened, her face changed, her eyes went unfocused and a look settled on her features, affection, plain as day, she loved her brother it was obvious she didn’t try to hide it and she said, “Yeah, we can do family time, you bet.”

Cal found his hand moving toward her face then it cupped her jaw, his thumb moving out to stroke her cheekbone and he watched her eyes shift to him, that love still shining there and that contraction hit him in the left of his chest again, this time stronger than before, nearly painful. She focused on him but that look didn’t move from her face.

“Yeah, we’ll see you then,” she whispered, her eyes still on Cal. “Can’t wait, Sam.” She paused to listen then said, “Me too, love you… my love to Mel. Bye.”

She slid the phone shut and Cal asked, “Let me guess, your brother’s comin’ to town?”

A smile split her face and she nodded. “Him and his girlfriend, Mel. Next weekend.”

“Good news, buddy.”

“Definitely.”

She reached down, nabbed her panties from the floor and he slid to the side as she lifted her legs then her hips as she yanked them on. The minute her legs settled back to the couch, he rolled his lower body over hers again and her eyes came to his face.

“He close to your folks?” Cal found himself asking and then watched as she burst out laughing. His question was so hilarious, she rolled into him, sliding her arms around him, holding on as her body shook with laughter at the same time she shoved her face in his chest.

“Vi,” he called.

She pulled her face away and tipped her head back.

“That was funny.”

“I could tell.”

She grinned at him. “The answer is no, Sam is not close to my parents. Neither of us are. Me because I got pregnant at seventeen and married the baby’s father after which they disowned me. I think it was less me getting pregnant and more me getting pregnant by Tim. Tim was not my mother’s idea of a perfect match. Tim’s Dad was a fireman, his Mom a nursing assistant. My Dad was an officer at a bank and my Mom was, and still is, a lady who lunched.”

This surprised him. There was nothing about her that hinted she came from money.

“Sam was a hellion,” she went on. “He started rebelling when he was about five and didn’t stop until a few years after he met Mel and she had enough time to calm him down. Still, my transgression was apparently worse than Sam’s gazillion fuck ups so, after I screwed up so royally according to Mom and she turned her back on me, she made it her mission to stay in Sam’s life. He puts up with it, mostly because he gets on with Dad. She does it, I reckon, because she’s not stupid and she knows when she’s slobbering in her jell-o she’ll need someone to come and visit her so she’ll have someone to bitch to.”

Cal looked down at her and found his mind moving to her at seventeen, pregnant and probably scared out of her fucking mind and her mother turning her back on her.

Then his mind moved to the woman lying on his couch who dressed like she dressed, worked like she worked, made a house like she did and created and raised two girls like hers, now carrying on alone. He couldn’t believe any mother wouldn’t be proud of all of that.

“Musta been hard, buddy,” he said softly and her head tilted to the side.

“What?”

“Makin’ a life at seventeen.”

She shook her head, her eyes drifted and her face grew soft when she said, “Tim’s folks weren’t like my folks.” She looked back at him and continued. “They loved him, they loved me, they thought we did the right thing, just too soon. They took me in when my parents kicked me out. We got married in their backyard, sweetest wedding you’ve ever seen.” Her voice got quiet when she said, “His Mom did that.” Her face was still soft with the memories as she went on. “We moved into their garage while Tim went to college. They’d done it up as a TV room and changed it to a bedroom so we could move in, helped me, helped Tim, took care of Kate, the whole shebang. A couple years later, they even built on a big addition at the back where they had their own bedroom, bathroom and living room and pretty much gave us the rest of the house. We didn’t move out until a couple of years after Keira was born. Tim had finished school, was in uniform and, by then, we had a down payment for a house. We moved in down the block from them. They were pretty much in our lives almost daily since I found out I was pregnant.”

Although Cal was relieved she hadn’t had it rough after her parents kicked her out, he didn’t want to talk about this, about her husband, about her life and memories that made her voice go quiet and her face get soft.

Even not wanting it, he still asked, “You still close to them?”

She swallowed and sadness swept the softness from her face. She looked like she looked when he first met her, a look he hadn’t seen in awhile, a look he didn’t like. She missed them being down the street but, mostly, she missed her old life.

“They call, the girls especially, a couple of times a week,” she answered. “I talked to them a lot when we first moved, but not so often now that I’m working full-time. So, no, we’re not close anymore. I’m not fired up to go to Chicago and they aren’t big on travelling so they’ve visited only twice.”

“Chicago’s only four hours away,” Cal pointed out.

“Chicago is where Daniel Hart lives.”

“I wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout you goin’ there, buddy.”

She shook her head. “They go to Florida once a year, Joe. Two weeks. In January. They stopped by on their way there and back. That’s all they do. They’re both still working, both full-time and they’re just not like that. They stick to their ‘hood, what they know. They were relieved when Tim and I moved down the block instead of further away. Even fifteen minutes would be out of their comfort zone unless Tim went to go get them. It’s not so much his Dad, it’s his Mom. She’s quiet, really shy, she likes what she knows, the rest I think scares her.”

This, Cal did not get. He couldn’t say he knew much about families since his had died with his mother but he spent enough time with Uncle Vinnie, Aunt Theresa and their kids Vinnie Junior, Carmela, Benny and Manny to know they were loud and in your business even if your business was six states away. Carmela had moved with her husband to California and Vinnie Senior and Aunt Theresa used every excuse they could to visit her. When Carm’s first kid lost his first tooth, they got on a fucking plane.

And they’d taken him on when his mother died. Even before that, they were down from Chicago visiting, Vinnie Senior was close to his sister, he didn’t like to be away from her long. But when Cal’s Mom died and they cottoned on to the state of his Dad, their visits were more frequent and, eventually, they’d come, get him and take him to Chicago. Vinnie Senior, with Vinnie Junior in the car, driving down on a Friday to pick him up for the weekend, bringing him back on a Sunday so he’d be home before he had to go back to school.

“Is, um…” she hesitated, he focused on her, she bit her lip and asked, “Your family close?”

“Mom and Dad are dead,” he told her and he listened to her suck in a soft breath.

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Joe,” she whispered.

He couldn’t handle that, hearing the sadness in her voice when she said his name. He couldn’t handle it because he didn’t fucking like it.

He sat up suddenly, taking her with him and planting her astride him then he slid his hands over her ass and changed the subject.

“Not gonna get your garage door fixed hangin’ on my couch.”

She put her hands to his neck and studied his face. Then her thumb came out and stroked the underside of his jaw.

“Yeah,” she said softly, letting it go and he decided he liked that, Vi reading his face and knowing she should let it go then she asked, “But could I ask you a favor?”

“Shoot.”

“Will you talk to Sam?”

He felt his body get tight and his hands flexed into the flesh of her ass.

He did not want to talk to her brother.

She was working her way under his skin. Every day, she got in deeper, even when she wasn’t with him. He’d be working a job, sitting in a meeting and he’d wonder what she was doing, if she was working, what she was wearing, where her kids were, if they were safe. He wondered if Dane was keeping his fucking teenage kid’s hands off Kate and thinking he’d break his neck if he wasn’t. He wondered if Keira was friendly to everyone like she was friendly to him and hoping to Christ she didn’t strike up a conversation with some sick fuck pedophile whose neck he’d also have to break if he fucked with Keira.

These were not Cal’s usual trains of thought.

And it was worse at night, trying to get to sleep, he thought of Vi in other ways, her hands, her mouth, her smell. Christ, some nights, she was so real in his thoughts, he could smell her hair on his pillow, feel her ass in his hands like it was right then, hear her saying his name, feel her body heavy in sleep against his side.

When he heard Keira’s far away scream and Kate’s yell and the fear in Vi’s voice, he’d nearly come out of his skin being so far away and powerless to step in if something was going down. And he couldn’t remember the last time he was as pissed as when he heard it was Kenzie doing the hang ups, shit in his life affecting hers and, again, he was so far away, on the fucking phone and she was dealing with it with Colt.

He didn’t like this, any of this.

His life was steady before Vi. He liked that.

“Joe,” she called when he didn’t answer and he focused on her. “Forget I said anything. You don’t have to.”

He didn’t want to but he knew he was going to.

And that was the fuck of it.

“What do you want me to talk to him about?”

“It’s just that…” she started to move from him and muttered, “forget it, it’s no big thing.”

His hands went from her ass, lifted, crossed and slid around so he could lock her in his arms.

“What do you want?”

“I…” she started then stopped, looking away and biting her lip.

“Baby, for fuck’s sake –”

Her eyes snapped back to his and she said, “He’s snoopin’ around Hart.”

Cal’s arms convulsed as a very bad feeling soured his gut.

“What?”

“Sam, he’s snoopin’ around Hart. I don’t know what he’s doing but he was close to Tim and he’s close to me and what happened to Tim and after to me hit him hard. He’s –”

Cal cut her off. “That’s whacked.”

Her body jerked then she said, “I know, but –”

“It’s not only whacked, it’s stupid.”

This time her body tightened in his arms and her eyes narrowed.

“He’s not stupid, he’s my brother and he’s –”

“Stickin’ his nose in shit he shouldn’t. Jesus, Vi, Hart’ll chew him up and spit him out.”

He fucked up, he knew it the second her face twisted with pain and her body wrenched, her hands going from his neck to his chest to push away.

He let her go but twisted so she landed on her back and he landed on her.

“Buddy –”

“I know that, Joe,” she interrupted on a whisper. “I know exactly what Hart will do.”

“I know you do,” Cal whispered back.

“That’s why I want you to talk to Sam. That’s the favor. I want you to tell him to stop, explain things to him. Get him to let the cops deal with it.”

“He’s here, you set up the meet, I’ll have a word,” Cal said immediately.

Her chin jerked then she blinked.

“What?”

“When he’s here, you set it up, I’ll have a word.”

She stared at him a second as if she’d never seen him before.

Then she breathed, “Really?”

“Yeah.”

He felt her body relax under him and her arm slid around him, her other hand gliding up his neck and into his hair as her leg moved from under him to wrap around his thigh.

“Thanks, Joe.”

He knew it the minute she spoke. He knew that was all he needed, those two soft words with her limbs wrapped around him and, God help him, he’d do anything for her.

Jesus, he was fucked.

“Need to see to your garage,” he told her.

He was leaving her arms after he fucked her on his couch and listened to her sharing her life with him so he could fix her garage door opener.

Yes, fucked.

“Okay,” she whispered.

He lifted up, pulling her up with him. He waited until she yanked up her shorts and retied her ponytail and together they walked over to her house, Vi going to her yard, Cal going to her garage.

Twenty minutes later, he was in his truck heading to the hardware store, buying her a new garage door opener.

Cal watched the Fiesta pull into the drive.

Kate had barely come to a stop when Keira was out the door and running at him, her hair flying, her arms wheeling like she’d run to her mother at Colt and Feb’s barbeque.

“Joe!” she screeched.

He was on a ladder in Vi’s garage, installing the new garage door opener and he looked down at Vi’s daughter who’d come to a halt by the ladder and was smiling up at him. Doing this, he was thinking the only sound better than hearing Vi say his name was hearing Keira say it.

“Hey girl.”

“I’m gettin’ a dog!” she announced.

Cal dropped his arms and asked, “What kind?”

“American husky.”

“Good breed,” Cal said even though he had no clue whether that was true or not.

“I know!” she yelled as if he wasn’t right there in front of him. “I’ve been looking them up on the internet.” She got up on her toes and whispered loudly, “Though, it says they bark a lot. I haven’t told Mom that part yet.”

“Hey Joe,” Kate said, joining their party.

“Kate.”

Her eyes were on the opening to the garage then they came to him and she remarked, “You got the door open.”

Cal didn’t respond as the door was open so he didn’t think she needed an answer.

“When we moved here, Mom spent, like, forever tryin’ to get that door open,” Kate told him.

“Yeah?” Cal asked, lifting his arms, tipping his head back and going back to the opener.

“What’re you doin’?” Keira asked and Cal looked through his arms to Keira.

“Installin’ a new garage door opener.”

Keira and Kate looked at each other. Keira grinned big. Kate’s eyes came back to him and she looked thoughtful.

“That’s cool, Joe,” she said softly, her eyes going to the ceiling then she looked at him and finished, “thanks.”

“Please tell me you left enough clothes and shoes at the mall for the rest of the population of Indianapolis to buy so people aren’t walkin’ around in tatty, non-designer clothes they got at Goodwill,” Vi joked, walking up to them and Cal dropped his arms again.

“We’re doin’ our part to help out the economy,” Keira said to her mother.

Vi came to a stop and looked at her daughter. “What’d you buy?”

“A pair of shorts you will just love and a new pair of flip-flops that are awesome and there was a buy two get one free at that accessories place so I bought four and got two free, a bunch of bracelets and necklaces. They’re sah-weet. You can borrow them,” Keira answered.

Vi stared at her youngest a moment then looked to her oldest. “What’d you buy?”

“Nothin’,” Kate grinned, “I’m gonna borrow Keira’s stuff.”

“You are not,” Keira snapped. “Mom can borrow it but you can’t.”

Vi’s eyes went to Cal and she shook her head then they went back to Keira. “You two fightin’?”

“No,” Keira said.

“Yes,” Kate said.

Vi knew instantly who was lying and who wasn’t so she looked at the one who’d be honest with her and asked Kate, “Why?”

“She and Heather want to go to that party at Jody’s house with me and Dane,” Kate answered.

Vi’s gaze went to Keira. “I thought we talked about that.”

“Mom,” Keira whined.

“You aren’t goin’, that’s for juniors and seniors.”

“Kate’s a sophomore,” Keira returned.

“Kate’s a junior now, school’s over,” Vi retorted.

“I’m old for my age,” Keira shot back.

“Honey, you’re fourteen goin’ on twelve. You’ll be forty-five goin’ on twelve. You’re locked in girldom. You’ll be livin’ in a house with daisies on the walls and wearing pink wellingtons when you’re married and have six kids,” Vi replied.

“I’m not havin’ six kids,” Keira snapped, not stupid enough to deny she was all girl and would be until the day she died.

“And you’re not goin’ to that party,” Vi said softly but firmly, using a voice that, from the look on Keira’s face, she knew that was the end of the discussion but Vi wasn’t going to leave it bad so she told them both, “Guess who’s comin’ to town next weekend?”

“Uncle Sam!” Keira shouted, guessing immediately and also immediately losing her attitude.

Vi smiled. “And Melissa.”

“That’s awesome!” Kate yelled.

Vi turned to Kate. “Baby, can you bunk with Keira on her futon so Sam and Mel can have your room?”

“Sure,” Kate agreed instantly, her face bright, her mouth smiling, obviously loving her uncle like her mother loved her brother if she’d give up her space.

“This is so cool!” Keira announced.

Vi slid an arm along Keira’s waist and gave her a squeeze before letting her go and saying, “It certainly is, honey. Now go get your bags, take ‘em into the house and leave Joe alone, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Keira grinned at her Mom then at him and said, “Later Joe.”

“Later,” Cal replied.

Keira took off and Kate moved toward the house but she was looking at Cal. “You want a Coke or somethin’, Joe?” she asked.

“Sounds good,” Cal answered, ignoring the fact that his brain was trying to decide if he liked quiet Kate calling him Joe better than loud Keira.

“I’ll get it,” Kate muttered and walked away.

Cal looked from Kate to Vi and she was staring at the ceiling.

“How much did that cost?” she asked the garage door opener.

“You, tonight in my bed with your hand between your legs,” Cal answered quietly and her eyes shot to his.

“What?” she whispered.

“You heard me.”

She looked to the drive to see Keira down at the end carrying her bags and waving across the street at Feb who had Jack at her hip and she was talking to Myrtle in her front yard. Then Vi looked at him and got close to the ladder.

“You want sexual favors for a garage door opener?” she asked sounding slightly pissed but more disbelieving.

Cal turned his attention to the opener. “I do the work, I decide the payback.”

“I’m your booty call, Joe, not your prostitute.”

At her words, unexpected words, words that pissed him right the fuck off, Cal turned his attention back to Vi.

“My booty call?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Booty call?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” she repeated too and he saw she was pissed as well but he reckoned she wasn’t as pissed as he was.

He put the screwdriver he had in his hand on the top of the ladder, climbed down and got close to her. She didn’t retreat then again she never did either because her attitude made her stupid or because she had a backbone. He figured it was both.

“Booty call?” he asked again, hoping she’d cotton on to the tone of his voice.

She didn’t.

“Yeah,” she repeated yet again.

He studied her then, he had no idea why, but just to piss her off further, he stated, “You aren’t pissed that’s what I want, you’re pissed you want it so bad you can’t wait to give it to me.”

He succeeded in his effort at pissing her off more, her eyes narrowed and she leaned closer to him and hissed, “I can’t believe you.”

“You been thinkin’ about it since I said it on the phone.”

Her eyes got wide then he watched her clench her teeth as she fought for control but he was too angry to give her the time.

Instead, he bent at the waist to get into her face and informed her, “Buddy, what we got is what it is. It might not be what you want but you gotta admit, what it is, is good. What it isn’t is a booty call and it pisses me off you’d say that and it pisses me off you’d think I’m on a fuckin’ ladder in your goddamned garage, installin’ a fuckin’ door opener so I could buy a fuckin’ session with you.”

“That’s what you said,” she accused.

“And that’s what I want as payback, I told you, straight out. I also told you, I do somethin’ for you, we talk payback. I’m doin’ somethin’ for you so that’s what I did. You didn’t like that idea, it made you uncomfortable, all you gotta do is say.”

“So every time you do something for me, it’ll require payback?”

“Buddy, that’s life. You always work to balance the scales. You don’t wanna owe someone something, even if it’s only in your head that you owe ‘em and they don’t give a shit. It’ll fuck with you. So you give back to balance the scales.”

He knew he had her with the way her face changed, not that she nodded in understanding, instead she looked more irritated because he was right.

“That said,” he went on, “I’d buy this and install it for nothin’, you need to take care of your car and Kate doesn’t need to be scrapin’ ice off hers either. I thought you’d let me do that and know those scales stayed balanced, I wouldn’t have said shit. But you wouldn’t let me do that, I know because you asked how much the fuckin’ thing cost.”

She glared at him, even more irritated because he was again right.

Then she changed the subject and he knew she was trying to piss him off further too.

“If I’m not a booty call, what am I?”

He looked over her shoulder to see Keira skipping across the yard, swinging her bags, going to the front door of the house.

Then he looked at Vi and muttered, “Jesus, Vi.”

“No, I wanna know, what is it that we’ve got?”

“What it isn’t is a booty call.”

“You said that already.”

Cal glared at her and she took it, waiting, silently demanding an answer.

So he answered, “I enjoy you, you enjoy me, for as long as it’s good.”

“That’s it?” she asked, her face carefully controlled, her body tense, fighting to hide her reaction to his words and, in doing so, not succeeding in hiding the fact that he’d gotten under her skin too.

Shit.

He should have never fucking started this again.

He forced his voice to soft when he replied, “I thought we had an understanding, buddy.”

She held his eyes a moment then she stepped away, murmuring, “Yeah, we did.”

The side door opened and Kate called out, “Here’s your Coke, Joe.”

Cal looked from Vi to Kate and saw Kate also got her mother’s walk, cool, calm, unconsciously moving her hips, swaying her ass, in possession of her body in a way that no teenage girl should be. Dane probably saw her walking down the hall and knew he’d go for it.

Or he’d seen her smile.

First chance he got, he was having a conversation with Dane.

She made it to him and handed him the Coke.

“Thanks girl,” Cal muttered.

“You want a sandwich?” she asked. “We got turkey and roast beef.”

Vi’s kids were polite. Cal wasn’t surprised.

“I’m good.”

“You want one, just call,” she said, looked at her Mom, gave her a small smile and then she walked away.

“I’ve got shit to do,” Vi mumbled but Cal reached out a hand and grabbed her arm.

When she turned back to him he said, “We’re not done, buddy.”

She looked at him and replied, “I don’t think I’m comin’ over tonight, Joe. I got things to think about.”

He knew what she’d be thinking about, she’d be thinking about ending it. He also knew she should and, she didn’t, he knew he should but he wasn’t ready.

“Vi.”

Carefully, she pulled her arm from his hand and asked, “You gonna be in town awhile?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll talk later,” she said quietly and moved away.

He let her. He let her because Colt was now with Feb and Myrtle across the street and he’d taken Jack from Feb. He had the baby held close to his front, both arms wrapped around the boy but his eyes were on Cal. So were Feb’s. Myrtle didn’t notice, she was busy gabbing.

Cal opened the Coke, took a drink and set it aside.

Then he went back to the ladder.

Fifteen minutes later, he was standing in front of the garage door testing the remotes when a dark blue Chevrolet Equinox pulled up to the curb and Mike Haines jumped down.

Cal watched him, his mouth getting tight, seeing Mike’s eyes on him as he walked up Vi’s drive and noting Mike’s mouth was set tight too.

“Cal,” Mike greeted.

“Mike.”

Vi came out the side door, her eyes jumping between them, uncomfortable and unprepared for this scene.

Mike turned to Vi, watched her walk up to them and said softly, “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hi,” she replied and Cal felt his gut get tight.

“Got plans tonight?” Mike asked Vi and Cal watched Vi’s eyes remain glued to Mike.

“No, why?” she asked back.

“Thought we’d reschedule dinner for tonight,” Mike answered and Cal knew the asshole was making a point, doing this with him standing right, fucking, there.

“Um…”

“My place, six o’clock,” Mike said firmly, not waiting for her to reply. “You still got my address?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Mike said, again talking soft then he lifted a hand to her jaw. “You have troubles findin’ it, you give me a call, yeah?” She nodded, he leaned in and touched his mouth to hers.

Cal locked his body to steel against the heat burning in his chest.

When Mike’s head came up, Vi’s eyes slid to Cal, she pressed her lips together and looked back to Mike. “Um… Mike –”

“Six o’clock.”

“Um –”

He dropped his hand and cut her off. “See you then,” he turned, nodded to Cal, Cal nodded back and Mike moved to his SUV.

Vi watched Cal.

Cal went back to testing the remotes and the door slid up.

Then he heard her shout, “Mike!”

Cal looked at Vi then at Mike who was standing at the back of his car.

“Yeah?” Mike called back.

“Do you need me to bring anything?” Vi asked, making her point too and that burning in his chest grew hotter as Mike smiled.

“Just you, sweetheart.”

“Okay, see you later.”

“Later.”

Mike got in his SUV and drove away.

Vi watched the street.

Cal closed the garage door.

Then Cal said to her, “Buddy, your remotes.”

She looked up at him and asked, straight out, “You don’t even care, do you?”

Oh he cared, too fucking much.

“We’re not that,” he reminded her.

She stared at him and he saw it in the backs of her eyes. Disappointment, even pain, and he nearly lifted his hand to touch her but he didn’t have the time.

She stepped back and whispered, “Right.”

He was a dick, Christ he was a dick, he should cut her loose.

For the life of him, he just fucking couldn’t.

She started to turn but he called to her, “Vi,” her eyes lifted to his and he held out the remotes, “door’s workin’, these’re you’re remotes, one for you, one for Kate.”

She stared down at the remotes in his hand as if she had no idea what they were but whatever they were scared the shit out of her.

Then taking the remotes, her voice flat, she whispered, “Thanks.”

“Buddy –”

“See you later,” she said quickly.

“Vi.”

He could say no more, she walked away, cool, calm, her hips moving, her ass swaying and he watched her until her side door closed.

Then he looked at her garage door.

Then he walked to his house.

Cal was sitting outside on his deck at dusk, his feet up on the railing, knees cocked, looking at his yard without seeing it, his second beer in hand.

Vi’s Mustang was gone, she was at Mike’s.

He took a pull from his beer then looked to the side hearing it and waited finally seeing Colt round the house.

“Hey,” Colt called.

“Yo,” Cal replied.

“Mind company?” Colt asked, coming up the steps.

Cal did. He didn’t want company. He also didn’t want to talk about whatever Colt was over to talk about. But he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, thoughts of Vi at Mike’s, thoughts of Mike’s mouth on Vi, his hands, thoughts that were fucking with Cal’s head.

“Nope,” he said to Colt. “Beer’s in the fridge,” he offered, “bring me one.”

“Gotcha,” Colt muttered, sliding the door open and stepping inside.

Cal looked at his yard then he looked at Vi’s.

He paid a service to mow his in the summer, that’s it. It was green because this was Indiana and they’d been having regular night rains and random day thunderstorms but it was nowhere near as healthy as Vi’s.

Vi couldn’t afford to pay a service. But you could see in the small ditch that delineated their property where her lawn stopped and his started. Hers was greener, no weeds, thick. Her deck had fancy garden furniture with an umbrella, not white, plastic chairs, like his. She had little and big pots of flowers all around, bright colors, vibrant, alive.

The Williamses who’d lived there for as long as Cal could remember were house proud. They took care of their place, built on the extension in the back, put in the deck, updated the bathroom and kitchen, installed the alarm. When old Dec Williams died, his wife Martha moved to Bloomington to be close to her kids and grandkids, selling the house she’d lived in for fifty years to Vi.

Even as well as Dec and Martha took care of their house, Vi did it better.

Colt came back, scraped another plastic chair next to Cal’s and handed Cal his beer. Cal took it, downed the dregs of the last one and set the bottle on the deck as Colt sat down and put his feet up on the railing, knees cocked, like Cal’s.

“Weather’s good,” Colt remarked.

Cal didn’t answer. It was a warm evening but no humidity, the day had been sunny, no clouds, a fair breeze. There was no need to answer.

“You comin’ to the wedding?” Colt asked.

“Yeah,” Cal replied though he wanted to go to a wedding like he wanted someone to drill a hole in his head. He liked Colt and Feb enough to go, though. They wanted him there, he’d be there.

“I’ll tell Feb, she’s livin’ and breathin’ this wedding, you show without RSVPing, her head might explode.”

Feb, as far as Cal could tell, was pretty laid-back. He showed and didn’t let her know he was coming, she wouldn’t have cared less.

“You know Audrey?” Colt asked and, in the middle of taking a pull off his beer, Cal’s eyes went to his friend.

He swallowed and lowered the beer.

“Who?”

“Audrey Haines.”

There it was. Fuck.

“Nope,” Cal answered.

“Total bitch,” Colt noted, “lazy bitch. Mike ran himself ragged for years, used to do side work, security for awhile then he made detective and started doin’ without, even havin’ to make his kids do without so she could sit on her ass in a designer track suit and watch soaps in that huge fuckin’ house. He gave up; divorce was final two months ago. The whole department celebrated. Good man like that doesn’t need to go home to that shit.”

Cal didn’t reply.

“He’s into Vi,” Colt went on.

Cal took a pull of his beer. That didn’t need a response either. Cal knew Mike was into Vi, he knew why, not to mention, Mike had made a point of making that fact clear to Cal.

Colt fell silent and contemplated Cal’s yard while they both drank beer.

Eventually Colt continued. “You knew Melanie.”

Cal did, he’d lived across the street from her since Colt and she moved in. Colt’s ex-wife Melanie was pretty, shy, sweet but shit scared of life. Cal never knew why they broke it off, didn’t ask but he figured it was because it’d get old, dealing with that shit, no matter how pretty she was.

“Yep, how’s she doin’?” Cal asked, since Melanie had been caught up in that scene with Feb and Colt, Denny Lowe kidnapping Melanie and holding her, Feb and Susie Shepherd hostage.

It didn’t say much for him but Cal was glad Susie’d been caught up in it. He’d fucked her, they had one night, she was good but he was done and she’d almost acted like Kenzie when he didn’t want seconds. Difference was, Susie wasn’t annoying when she wanted something, she was a total bitch. How she thought she’d get what she wanted acting like that, he had no idea. Likely because her Daddy spoiled the bitch rotten. He thought that maybe she’d take a look at her life when some psycho, serial killer shot her. Susie didn’t. She was still a bitch, therefore, as far as he knew, she was still alone.

“Don’t know,” Colt answered his question. “Took awhile but she pulled her shit together though I haven’t heard from her for months. Don’t think I will, what with Jack bein’ born and the wedding comin’ up.”

Cal didn’t disagree. Melanie didn’t seem the type to hang on. Cal wished his ex was the same.

“You know why we split?” Colt asked, Cal looked at him, lifted his brows and Colt carried on. “Couldn’t fix her.”

Cal pulled in breath through his nose and looked away, muttering, “Colt.”

“Tried, man, years, fuckin’ years I tried. She wanted a kid so fuckin’ bad, Christ, obsessed with it. And she hated it when Feb would come into town, pissed me off, she’d get so tense when Feb was here. Melanie thought I’d stray.”

Feb and Colt had been in item in high school and after it. When they broke it off everyone, even Cal who was young back then, maybe sixteen, had been surprised. They seemed solid, more solid than anyone he knew. And Feb was gorgeous.

On the one hand, he didn’t blame Melanie with Feb being Colt’s ex, having their history. On the other hand, Colt was Colt and that kind of shit was not Colt’s gig and everyone knew that too, the person who should have known it most was Melanie.

“Sucks,” Cal muttered.

“Nope,” Colt muttered back, his eyes on the yard, he took a pull from his beer, then continued. “She didn’t take off, I’d have a lifetime of that crap and I wouldn’t have Feb.”

Surprised, Cal glanced at Colt. That was cold, Colt wasn’t like that.

Colt didn’t take his eyes off Cal’s yard as he kept talking. “Had years of that shit, tryin’ to fix her, bustin’ my ass to figure out what was in that fuckin’ head of hers, wonderin’ where I was goin’ wrong,” Colt’s eyes slid to Cal. “Then I got a woman doesn’t need fixin’, not anymore, and now life’s sweet.”

“Colt –” Cal started.

“Mike’s into her, Cal, but Vi’s into you.”

“You think she don’t need fixin’, you’re wrong,” Cal told him.

“Patchwork, man, not major fuckin’ repairs. Been there too, the job doesn’t last long and it’s worth the effort.”

Cal looked at the yard and took another pull of his beer.

“We do our own thing,” Colt continued. “The day starts with Feb in my bed then we go our own way and, Cal, man, you wouldn’t believe how sweet it is knowin’ at the end of the day she’ll crawl right back into my bed.”

Cal was pleased Colt had that. Good man like him deserved it. Good woman like Feb deserved it too.

But after what went down with Bonnie, Cal quit thinkin’ about what he wanted, his mind focused entirely on the end game. Retire early, kick back, do his own thing in his own company. He’d take his fill of women along the way and after he got where he wanted to be but all he’d ever wanted growing up was a family and, what Bonnie did, he wasn’t going to go back there. He’d given too much the first around, he was empty.

There was no way he was telling Colt this so Cal stayed silent.

Colt didn’t take his hint.

“You fixed her garage door opener.”

“Yep.”

“It back on?”

It was none of his business but Cal repeated, “Yep.”

“Cut her loose, Cal.”

Cal looked at Colt and with the way he did most men would cringe.

Colt just held his gaze.

Cal stayed silent.

“You should cut her loose,” Colt reiterated quietly.

“Not your business, Colt.”

“It works out with Mike, it’ll be good for them both.”

Cal knew that, he knew Haines, not well, but he knew him. Haines was a good man. Haines would shovel her snow. His wife was that big of a bitch, Haines would appreciate what he had in Vi and he’d let her know it.

Cal looked away and stared at his yard.

“In a minute, we’ll sit and drink beer. Now I’m tellin’ you, you’re all kinds of crazy, havin’ her next door, into you and not makin’ some effort to see where it’d lead. You’d be good for her but, better, she’d be good for you. You don’t wanna make that effort, your call, but you should stop fuckin’ with her head and let her get on with her life and find someone who’s willin’ to put in the effort.”

When Colt stopped speaking, Cal continued contemplating his yard.

After awhile, he asked, “You done?”

“Yeah,” Colt answered.

Cal didn’t do anything, not even nod. He just looked at his yard and took another pull of his beer.

Colt did the same.

I walked up to Mike’s townhouse, a new build but not that new. The trees had filled in a bit, it’d been around a few years; with a discerning eye I decided maybe five, maybe a couple more.

It was a development, a few detached or duplex ones but mostly rows of townhouses, party walls. In Mike’s row, Mike was in the middle. There was a narrow two car garage at the front, most of the house on top of the garage but there were rooms to the side.

I knocked on the door and didn’t wait long for Mike to answer.

“Hey honey,” he said, stepping aside, letting me in.

“Hi,” I replied, walking by him.

He closed the door, I looked up at him at the same time his arm hooked me at the waist, pulling me to his body and his head came down.

He obviously saved the stealth kisses for the first date or maybe special occasions. He didn’t give me a stealth kiss, patiently building the heat. His mouth opened over mine, his tongue slid inside and, essentially, he threw a kiss Molotov cocktail and I ignited.

When he lifted his head, I’d plastered myself to his front and again had both my hands in his hair.

“Wow,” I breathed.

He smiled, I gave him more of my weight, that’s how much I liked his smile, and he took it, his smile getting wider.

Then I thought, I was such a freaking slut.

“Sorry about Wednesday,” he said.

“I was a cop’s wife for fifteen years, I know the drill,” I told him.

“Your man stand you up a lot?” Mike asked.

I shook my head. “No, but he liked his job, he only ever wanted to be a cop and it was important to him. Since it was important to him and he didn’t make too much of a habit of it, I didn’t throw a hissy fit when he had to work. You learn to deal and with two kids it wasn’t like there wasn’t always something to do.”

His arm got tight but he didn’t reply. Then he let me go but took my purse, threw it on a chair in the little foyer and led me to the left into a kitchen.

It wasn’t the greatest kitchen in the world. Mine wasn’t huge but it was long and had a lot of counter space. His was newer, better appliances, was in a u-shape, small and had shit counter space but whoever designed it did the best they could do with the space they had. There were tons of cupboards; a five burner stove set in the counter; wall oven built into a unit, a microwave over it, cupboard over and under the appliances; a huge double door fridge that would hold enough food for a battalion; and there was a small table sitting in the bay window facing the front of the house.

“You eat meat?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“Good.” He went to a bottle of wine on the counter. “You drink red?”

I grinned at him. “Yep.”

He grinned back. “Good.”

He opened the wine while I asked, “How long you been here?”

“Bought it with my half of sellin’ the house. Audrey and I sold before the divorce, she didn’t want me to have it and she couldn’t afford it. Been here about nine months.”

“You like it?”

“Would prefer livin’ closer to work but need three bedrooms and this has that, couldn’t find anything in town that’d work for me and the kids.”

“Where does… um… Audrey live?”

“Apartment in town. Two bedrooms, kids hate it, they have to share. Jonas is fourteen, Clarisse twelve, they’re way too old to share…” he trailed off and handed me a glass of wine before he finished. “She went through her take from the house in about a month. She drives a brand new Merc but lives in a two bedroom dump, can you believe that shit?”

I shook my head, not able to believe that shit, thinking unhappy thoughts for him and his kids, taking a sip of my wine and noting instantly it wasn’t cheap.

“Sweetheart,” he called and I focused on him. “You should know I’m goin’ for full custody. Talked to my lawyer two weeks ago.”

He said this like a warning, like he’d expect me to think this was a bad thing.

“Good,” I told him.

His eyes moved over my face, something working in them, I didn’t know for certain what but it wasn’t like Joe studied me. I could see plain as day whatever he saw he thought was good.

I felt my stomach flutter.

When his eyes caught mine, he said, “We’ll eat in awhile. You wanna see the house?”

“Okay.”

He took my hand and led me out of the kitchen. “Got an HOA, they take care of the greenspace, doesn’t look like yours,” he said, drawing me down a hall off his foyer and looking back to me. “They should hire you though.”

It was a quiet compliment, not effusive but effective.

“Thanks,” I whispered, my belly fluttering again.

He showed me the living room at the back, it ran the length of the house and it was huge. There was a dining room table to one side set to seat four but you could see it took leaves to make it bigger, two more chairs at the wall. The rest was family furniture, big sectional couch, a couple of recliners, comfortable, sturdy but attractive. Stuff you lounged on with your kids and watched TV. There were pictures of the kids and Mike and other photos of other people, his parents (I could tell) and others, maybe his sisters, brothers, their families, friends and they were all over the place. There were shelves with books, DVDs, music, games and a large, flat screen TV, tables everywhere to put drinks on, a nice stereo. Two bay windows, one by the dining table, the other in the living room area, French doors in the middle with tall, slim windows at their sides that opened on a deck. I could see a huge, electric grill and decent furniture on the deck, not a bad-sized yard which a dog was lying in, golden retriever, staring at the doors, tongue lolling, knowing there was company, waiting to be let in so she could give her greeting.

Looking around, I saw that Mike had made an effort. This wasn’t a bachelor pad townhouse he brought his kids to when they came for their time with him. This was their home, a place they could lounge, a place they’d be comfortable and feel safe. I didn’t know a man could do something like that and I didn’t know, in knowing it, that something like that could be so attractive. But it was.

“You have a dog?” I asked.

“Got custody of Layla in the divorce.”

“Layla?”

“Clapton. Great song,” he looked out the windows, “great dog.”

He was right, it was a great song. He had good taste in music.

I looked out the windows to see Layla was now at the door, her tongue still lolling, her body shaking because her tail was wagging so hard.

“She do something to be put into doggie prison?” I asked.

Mike looked at me and asked back, “Pardon?”

“She’s in the yard, there’s a guest, she’s obviously being punished.”

He grinned at me and shook his head. “She’s excitable. I didn’t want her jumpin’ on you,” his head tilted to the side and he finished, “least, not ‘til I got my chance to jump on you.”

There it was, that flutter again.

“You should let her in before she explodes,” I suggested.

“You like dogs?”

“Love ‘em, Keira’s gettin’ her first next week. An American husky.”

“You should go golden,” he advised, walking to the door and Layla was watching him and pacing, her tail still wagging, her tongue still lolling.

“Keira has her heart set,” I replied, he opened the door and Layla burst in. Completely uninterested in her Daddy, she ran straight to me and jumped up the minute she got to me, butting me with her nose, her hind legs bouncing, her front legs pawing at my chest.

“Layla, down,” Mike ordered, his deep voice commanding and she instantly obeyed but she still butted my legs with her head, her body shaking and moving, even though I was bent over her, giving her head a rubdown while trying not to spill my wine on Mike’s nice carpet.

“She’ll calm down as soon as she gets used to your scent,” Mike said, coming back to me.

“She’s okay,” I assured him.

He took my hand and I straightened as he guided me away from Layla and out of the living room, back down the hall to the foyer that I now saw had a door leading to the garage, another to a half bath and a set of stairs. Layla followed or I should say, she eventually led the procession, knocking me into Mike as she forged ahead of us on the stairs then stood at the top, waiting for our arrival, her tongue still out, her face set in the doggie question of, “What’s taking you guys so long?”

We made it to the top and Mike showed me Jonas’s room, Layla sweeping in and running through it like she was an enthusiastic tour guide, and I saw his boy was obviously into music. There was a drum kit set up and a guitar on a stand and the walls could not be seen for all the band posters on them. The bed was unmade and the drawers were open with clothes spilling out.

“He’s not big on pickin’ up his room,” Mike told me.

“I would guess that’s in the Teenage Boy’s Handbook seeing as it’s also in the Adult Man’s Handbook. Gotta train ‘em early.”

Mike chuckled and showed me Clarisse’s room, Layla again running through it even over the bed, which was made. His daughter’s room looked almost identical to Keira’s except not pinks and purples, instead blues and yellows and instead of daisies, there were butterflies and there was not a mixture of boy band and teenage vampire posters, there were only teenage vampires.

I looked up at Mike. “You load your gun with silver bullets?”

“Clarisse tells me that only works on werewolves.”

I burst out laughing and Mike smiled at me before he threw an arm around my shoulders and then he showed me a smaller room with more shelves and a high-backed, black leather swivel chair in front of a large desk with built-in storage and a computer on it. There was a comfortable looking armchair in the corner with a table and a standing lamp beside it. A study for him, for the kids, a private place to be, to do your homework or read. It was nice.

Then he led me out of there and took me down the hall, showing me his room.

That was nicer. It had more French doors, a small, private deck leading off. The room was huge, so was his bed, and his bed was cool as all hell, a dark wood, heavy sleigh bed with a taupe, tan and chocolate paisley comforter. Layla didn’t play tour guide here. She got to Mike’s room, she ran straight up and jumped on the bed, settling on her belly, her head on her paws.

I ignored the dog’s invitation to join her on Mike’s bed and Mike told me there was walk-in closet and showed me the master bath with double basin, separate bath and shower. The bath was bigger than most, oval, sitting in a platform with a step up. The bathroom was enough for me to buy this house. It was awesome, a woman’s dream.

He led me out and I was feeling weird about taking a tour of his bedroom. I hadn’t been on a second date since I was in high school but I was thinking this was unusual.

I felt so weird, I didn’t think before I remarked, “That’s quite a bed.”

“Audrey paid six thousand dollars for that bed,” Mike replied.

I stopped dead and stared up at him.

“What?”

“Yep, six thousand fuckin’ dollars. She loved that bed. Won’t say much for me, honey, but, seein’ as I actually paid for it and I knew she loved it and no way we could sell it and make that cake back, I made certain I got it in the divorce. Our divorce wasn’t pretty, she fought me on everything, had no ground to stand on, lost huge,” he smiled, “lost her fuckin’ bed.”

Since he did pay for it and he should get it and it was a great bed, I smiled back at him.

“Anyway, Clarisse and I got a thing, Scary Movie Friday Night. She’s with me on a Friday, we watch horror movies, bowls of popcorn, tubs of ice cream.” His head tipped to the wall where there was a flat screen TV installed. “Jonas even stoops to join us every once in awhile. Bed’s perfect for Scary Movie Friday Night.”

I thought of Mike with his unknown daughter having a Scary Movie Friday Night, a twelve year old girl watching horror flicks, cuddled up to her big, tall, strong, handsome Dad and I didn’t have a belly flutter. My eyes filled with tears and I looked away.

“Hey,” Mike called.

I took a sip of wine and stared at the wall.

His hand came to my jaw and he repeated, “Hey,” as he forced me to look at him.

“Can I use your bathroom?” I asked, staring at his nose.

“You can, you look at me and tell me why you got tears in your eyes.”

I blinked back the tears, swallowed then looked at him and whispered, “Sorry.”

“About what?”

“It doesn’t happen much anymore, but when it does it throws me, always,” I shut my eyes tight, then opened them and repeated, “always.”

His hand with his wine glass curled around to the small of my back, pulling me closer, and he asked softly, “What doesn’t happen much anymore?”

I shook my head, putting my free hand on his shoulder, my hand with the glass to his waist. He didn’t seem at all hesitant about sharing about his kids, his ex, and being totally honest about it.

I didn’t find it that easy.

But since he gave it to me, I figured I should give it back and when I figured that, I was reminded of Joe telling me about the scales.

Balancing them out.

Shit, Joe was too wise for my good and it pissed me off when he was right.

“Just that…” I trailed off, not knowing how to explain it, “getting reminded of things. You know, like my girls’ll never cuddle up to their Dad again, watch a movie.”

His face changed, grew gentle, his hand tensed at my jaw and he whispered, “Sweetheart.”

I shook my head again. “It’s okay, it’s cool. Sorry. It isn’t cool, just that I should say, it’s good that you have that with Clarisse.”

“Yeah,” he replied, his eyes never leaving mine, “’cept, next time, it’ll mean a helluva lot more than normal.”

I bit my lip thinking I was standing mostly in the arms of a really good guy.

Mike read that I needed a subject change pronto and asked, “You wanna see why I bought this place?”

“Sure.”

He let me go, took my hand and led me to the French doors and out onto the white-painted, wooden balcony.

There were a couple of Adirondack chairs there, also painted white, no pads. His yard below had a high fence all around to shield his business from the neighbors.

But I knew why he brought me to his bedroom when I saw, beyond his fenced yard, there was also a view of straight, flat cornfield, the corn growing, knee height now. Beyond that were some dense woods. Smack in the middle of it, there was a yellow farmhouse with white woodwork, a wraparound porch and a red barn with green lawn all around, some graveled drives, a white gazebo with wisteria growing from it, a grape arbor heavy with vines.

Something about the view stunned me. I’d seen many farmhouses but this one, from our elevated view, seemed picture perfect. There was intricate, lacy woodwork in the corners of the posts holding up the porch roof; the lawn looked like mine, green and healthy; and the pristine rows filled with the wide leaves of the growing corn, both spiky and bowed, all of it exquisitely cared for and cultivated showed these farmers loved their home, their farm, the pride went deep and it was amazing to behold.

Not a lot of people would think this was picturesque or at least not beautiful. It wasn’t a beach or a view of the mountains but I thought it was gorgeous. I could totally see buying this house if I could sit in an Adirondack chair, drink wine and stare at that view.

“Grew up in this ‘burg and my high school girlfriend grew up on that farm,” Mike told me and I looked up at him to see his eyes on the farmhouse. “She got married to some guy she met at Notre Dame, moved to DC. Her brother runs that farm now.” He looked down at me. “I always loved that farm.”

“Did you wanna be a farmer?” I asked.

“Fuck no,” he grinned, “still, liked her farm. Her folks were great too. And she had this sister…” he stopped talking and I waited for him to say more. His face had grown thoughtful in a faraway way and since he didn’t seem to mind sharing, and he wasn’t sharing, I figured he didn’t want to so I changed the subject.

“How’d you meet Audrey?” I asked, leaning against the railing and he came back to the conversation and leaned with me.

“Blind date.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he grinned again, “friend of mine was dating a friend of hers. Thought we’d get on.”

“Obviously, you did.”

He didn’t answer, he looked out to the farmhouse again, taking a sip of his wine, his face grew pensive again and I thought I read what this meant.

“You really liked her,” I said softly, not wanting to push.

Mike’s eyes came to me. “Audrey?”

“No, your high school girlfriend.”

He burst out laughing.

“What?” I asked when he was mostly done laughing.

“Debbie was sweet, but she was career minded. Hated livin’ here, couldn’t wait to get out, doesn’t come back often. She didn’t want kids, wanted to be a lawyer and she became one. Her brother tells me she’s a shark. Makes a mint, works eighty hour weeks, lives and breathes her work. Saw her at Christmas a few years ago, she was with her Mom in the grocery store and she had her Blackberry in her hand, e-mailin’ people while she was at home for the holidays, out with her Mom, buyin’ egg nog. Seriously, sweetheart, that is not my thing.”

“And Audrey was your thing?”

The humor moved out of his face and he said, “You don’t wanna know about that shit.”

“I do, unless you don’t want to tell me.”

“Violet –”

“Mike, honey, I just nearly burst into tears in your bedroom. You can feel free to tell me about your ex-wife.”

He smiled, took another sip of wine, then slid an arm around my waist, inching me closer and when he had me where he wanted me, he left his arm there.

“I won’t lie, lookin’ back, she gave me signals, lots of ‘em. But she could be funny, fuckin’ hell, she could be funny. Never laughed so hard as I did with Audrey in the beginning, thought that’d be my life, laughter. She was gorgeous and she made me laugh and I kept my focus on that and ignored the signals. It started six months in, after we got back from our honeymoon, which, by the way, she demanded was at an all-inclusive that cost a fuckin’ fortune. I was twenty-four, my parents had to help me pay for it.”

He paused to allow me to let this information sink in, I nodded for him to continue and he did.

“We’d moved into our apartment but she wanted another one, bigger, more exclusive in a development with a pool. I couldn’t afford it but I loved her, so the minute the lease ran out, I moved her into her new apartment. Two months later, she found a house she wanted to buy and it kept goin’ from there. She never hid it from me, I just wanted to think eventually she’d have what she needed or she’d be happy with what she had or, at least, she’d be happy just to have me. She never was.”

I placed my hand on his chest thinking Audrey Haines was all kinds of fool, his arm gave me a squeeze and he went on talking.

“I should have ended it before we got down to kids but, if I did,” he shrugged, “I wouldn’t have my kids.”

“Worth it then,” I murmured.

“Definitely,” he smiled.

Layla, done with giving her hint that camping out on the bed meant we should join her there, came out and started to head butt our legs.

“I should start cooking,” Mike said, letting me go to pet his dog who, remembering he existed, appeared in throes of ecstasy to have his big, strong hand scratching behind her ears.

“Can I help?” I asked and he stayed bent to Layla but twisted his torso to look up at me.

“You always cook for your girls?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“Then no.”

There it went, the belly flutter again.

“You always cook when your kids are here?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll help.”

He gave Layla a playful push and came to me, his hand curling at my neck, pulling my upper body close to his as his neck bent so his face could get close to mine.

When he was close, he whispered, “I like you, Violet.”

“I like you too, Mike,” I whispered back.

He grinned, touched his forehead to mine a second then touched his lips to mine a second then he said, “Let’s go cook.”

Being a good Dad, Mike knew how to cook. The au gratin potatoes were already cooking in the oven and he made London broil and green beans and he had fresh bakery rolls to go with.

We ate at his kitchen table with Layla lying mostly on Mike’s feet then we did the dishes together. After the dishes, Mike made ice cream sundaes with lashings of caramel and chocolate syrup on gourmet vanilla bean ice cream, whipped cream on top, sprinkled with pralines. I took note of this since they were simple but absolutely delicious. My girls would love them.

We ate these on the couch with Layla sitting by my side, her head on the seat by me, staring at me while blinking, telling me she needed ice cream or she’d die.

Mike noticed and called her off. She gave in with an irritable groan and lay down by my feet.

Conversation through dinner and dessert wasn’t heavy, we didn’t share life stories and I didn’t tear up again. We talked (mostly about our kids), we laughed (mostly about our kids) and he proved again he was easygoing and easy to be around.

Then he took my bowl, ordering me to fill up our wine glasses and he left the room. I did as he ordered and was taking a sip when he got back. He sat down beside me, took my glass out of my hand, set it on the coffee table, put his hands to my pits, dragged my ass across his lap and over then I was on my back and he was on top of me.

Then we were making out on his couch.

I wasn’t certain how I managed to get myself into these situations, fucking Joe on his couch that morning, making out with Mike on his that evening. But I was certain I wasn’t doing a lot to avoid them. I figured, partially, it was because both, in their own way, were pretty freaking magnificent. The other part was that I liked being with both men. I liked it in entirely different ways, but I still liked it.

His mouth moved from mine and his face disappeared into my neck. I felt his tongue trail from the back of my ear down the line of my neck where he stopped and while I shivered, he asked, “Where’re your girls tonight?”

“At home, hopefully not throwing a wild party with boys and kegs.”

His head came up and he was grinning when he looked at me. “That something they would do?”

“Kate, no, Keira, yes, once she figures out kegs exist. Kate would be running through the house trying to get people out or cleaning up and fretting the whole time that someone would break a glass or knock over the TV. Keira would be in the kitchen, not a care in the world, shot gunning beers.”

He was still grinning when he asked, “Yeah?”

I grinned back and shook my head. “No, they’re both good kids. They’re probably watching a movie while Kate texts Dane, who’s out with his friends tonight, and Keira texts everyone in three counties. But I know Keira, there’ll come a day when my house will look like the day after in a 80’s Brat Pack movie.”

“Weird Science,” he said on a smile.

“Sixteen Candles,” I one-upped him.

“You need to get home?” he asked and I looked at the clock on his shelves.

It was eight thirty. I didn’t need to get home and, even though it made me a terrible person, being on the couch with Mike who I liked too much in a way that was so confusing I couldn’t unravel it in a million years, I wanted to be home late, just in case Joe was watching for me.

“No,” I replied when I looked back at him.

“Good,” he muttered and his head came back down.

We made out more and it got heavy, mainly because we both liked it, but the progression was slow, natural, strangely like we’d fooled around on his couch hundreds of times before and when we did it, we always knew we had all the time in the world. This was a change from Joe, a nice one but one that reminded me of Tim, who also took his time, and I’d liked that too.

Eventually Mike’s hand curled around my breast and his thumb slid over the fabric of my blouse at my nipple.

I sucked in breath against his lips and arched my back to press into his hand.

“Sweetheart,” Mike called and I realized my eyes were closed so I opened them.

“Yeah?” I whispered, his eyes got soft, his lids lowered and his mouth touched mine as his thumb slid back across my nipple and I inhaled again.

“I wanna fuck you, honey,” he said quietly and I held my breath, wanting him to and not wanting him to, both at the same maximum strength.

He went on. “Right here or I take you to my bed. But before I do that, we gotta talk.”

“Okay,” I whispered, unsure about this talk because I was pretty sure what this talk was going to be about.

His hand left my breast and he fell to his side, rolling me to mine with his arm around me and he got up on an elbow, head in hand and looked down at me while he tangled his long legs with mine. I decided to get up on my elbow too and I rested my other hand on his chest.

“You ready for this?” he asked softly and I closed my eyes, drew breath into my nostrils and remembered he was a really good guy.

I opened my eyes and replied, “I don’t know.”

“We can go fast, we can go slow, I’m good with both. What I’m not good with is us goin’ fast when you wanna go slow but you not sayin’ anything, yeah?”

I nodded.

Then he spoke again and my entire body went solid because what he said introduced the part I knew he wanted to say.

“I’m also not big on sharing.”

“What?” I asked even though I knew exactly what he meant.

“Cal was at your house today.”

Shitshitshit!

I tried to be casual. It wasn’t like it was 1890 and I had to make sure no one saw my ankles. These days, women played the field just like men.

Right?

“Yeah, he was,” I affirmed, even though he was there, Joe was there and I was there when Mike asked me over for dinner.

“What was he doin’ there?”

“Fixing my garage door opener.”

“He do a lot a shit around your house?”

“Um… just the alarm system and the garage.”

“Things still complicated?”

The answer to that question was, more than ever.

Except, after that afternoon when Mike asked me to his house right in front of Joe and Joe didn’t blink, he didn’t freaking care, not even a little bit, maybe they weren’t.

I just didn’t want to admit it yet, even though I knew at the back of my mind and at the bottom of my heart, I knew.

I also knew, when I uncomplicated things, it would hurt a lot more than it should and more than I could take right then.

“He’s wound you up,” Mike said on a sigh.

“What?”

“Cal, he’s wound you up. Women get like that with him.”

“They do?”

“Yeah, the whole history… women love that shit.”

“What whole history?”

Mike stared at me then he asked, “You don’t know?”

“Don’t know about what?”

“About Cal, his wife, his Dad and his kid.”

I felt my body twitch and I whispered, “His kid?”

Mike stared at me a second then muttered, “Fuck.”

“Fuck what?”

Mike didn’t answer.

I got up on a hand and looked down at him. “Fuck what, Mike?”

Mike pushed up too then, with his arm around me, he pulled me further up the couch to the armrest. He leaned back against the couch and pulled me to him, into his arms, my chest pressed to his, his hand in my hair.

Then he said in a way I knew he didn’t want to say it, “The story is ‘burg lore so someone’s gonna tell you, might as well be me.”

I waited.

Mike spoke again. “You know Feb and Colt’s story? How they were the big item in high school, even before, everyone said they were born to be together?”

I nodded.

“Well, Cal and his ex-wife, Bonnie, they were that way too.”

I blinked, not believing that, not for a minute. Not about the emaciated, lank-dirty-haired, filthy-slutty-clothed Bonnie who crashed to the floor after offering the tall, huge, strong, amazingly beautiful Joe the opportunity to take her up the ass if he paid for it.

“That can’t be true, I’ve met Bonnie, she’s –”

I stopped talking when I saw Mike’s face register out-and-out shock. “You met Bonnie?”

“Yeah.”

“Cal’s Bonnie?”

I didn’t like to think of her that way but I still answered, “Yeah.”

“Jesus, how’d you meet her?”

“I was over at his house, she came over.”

“You have got to be shittin’ me.”

I shook my head and said, “No.”

“You sure it was Bonnie?”

I nodded my head and said, “Yes.”

Mike looked away and he muttered, “Jesus Christ.”

I was confused and I explained why. “It wasn’t pleasant but I got the impression it happens a lot. She was asking for money.”

Mike looked back at me and he looked pissed. I’d never seen him look pissed and it was kind of scary. Not Joe-pissed-scary but still, pretty freaking scary.

“She came to Cal’s house and asked Cal for money?”

“She was wasted, and high, a total mess.”

“She wanted money for drugs,” Mike surmised.

“Or booze.”

“No, Violet, she wanted money for drugs,” Mike stated firmly and I stared at him.

“Okay,” I replied slowly.

“She’s a junkie,” Mike informed me.

That wasn’t surprising, she definitely looked and dressed the part, not to mention acted it.

“I guess so.”

“No, she is. Look up junkie in the encyclopedia, sweetheart, Bonnie Wainwright’s picture is right there. The bitch has been a mess for years.”

It seemed out of character for Mike to refer to anyone casually as a bitch so I started to get scared.

“Maybe you should tell me the story,” I suggested.

“Nab our wine, honey, we’re gonna need it,” Mike ordered, I didn’t take that as a good sign but I twisted out of his arms, nabbed our wine off the coffee table and came back, giving him his and taking a sip from mine.

Mike shifted a leg under me so he had one foot to the floor, his thigh angled on the seat, me mostly in his lap, partly between his legs, his other leg the length of the couch, still tangled with both mine.

This was a comfortable position, one of safety, togetherness.

It didn’t register on me as I braced for Mike’s story.

“Like I said,” he started, “Bonnie and Cal were an item, like Feb and Colt. But Bonnie’s Dad was an asshole. Big wig at the church, holier than thou, but not so holy, he didn’t go home and beat the shit outta his wife and kid.”

I closed my eyes and dropped my head.

“Yeah, sucks normally but this was bad and I mean bad. Asshole didn’t try to hide it. Both of ‘em on a regular basis walked around with their eyes blackened, lips split and swollen, arms in slings, limpin’, holdin’ themselves funny. Christ, I was a kid, one year ahead of Cal at school, we went to the same church and I saw ‘em all the time and even I knew what they caught at home.”

I opened my eyes and looked at him.

Mike kept talking. “Everyone knew but those two were so cowed, they never called the cops, no one could do shit about it if they didn’t report it and they didn’t. She was pretty back then, Bonnie was, God, beautiful. All the boys thought so, even young, in junior high. But she only had eyes for Cal and he only had eyes for her. They started it when they were young, twelve, thirteen, somewhere ‘round there. Never apart. Always together, Cal and Bonnie, after they hooked up, I never remember seein’ one without the other.”

Mike paused and I didn’t say anything mainly because I couldn’t say anything so he went on.

“Cal was helpless to save her from her Dad, drove him crazy, he acted out, got trashed, did shit, got into trouble, lots of it. She wasn’t with him, he was carousin’. But Bonnie was somethin’ else. Minute she hit high school, she went wild. Partying, out all the time, missin’ school, drinkin’, smokin’ pot, doin’ anything she could do to forget home. Started with that, got worse, acid, coke, crack, whatever she could get her hands on. Cal was her boyfriend and he turned into her bodyguard. He cleaned up his act, drove her where she wanted to go, looked after her while she had the time of her life, got her home safely. It was like he knew she needed that escape, her rebellion, and he was gonna give it to her but make sure she was safe while doin’ it. The minute they graduated, they got married. They got married the same fuckin’ day. Drove straight down to Tennessee and did it. Came back, moved in with Cal’s Dad, she never went back home, far’s I knew. Even if she wanted to, Cal wouldn’t let her. Everything he was was about protectin’ her from that shit and gettin’ her clean, he acted like it was the only reason for him to breathe.”

My mouth was dry and I needed to blink but I couldn’t. I was frozen, staring at Mike but he wasn’t done. Not even halfway.

“Cal’s Dad was a wreck, lost his wife when Cal was a kid. When she was gone, he lost his will to live. He held down a job by some miracle since he was drunk most the time. Loved her, though, people still talk about it, especially with what happened with Cal and Bonnie, how ole Joe and Cal are cut from the same cloth, one-women men. Joe lost Angela and his world caved in, he didn’t have the strength to dig his way out. Cal lost everything and he dug himself out, walked away but he’s never goin’ back.”

“Lost everything?” I whispered.

Mike nodded. “Yeah. Cal moved Bonnie into his Dad’s house, by this time his Dad was sick. Cancer. Been smokin’ two packs a day for years. Cal worked two jobs, maybe three. He was a bouncer, security at the mall, anything he could do. Especially when Bonnie seemed to clean herself up and she got pregnant, had Nicky.”

“Nicky?”

“Their son. Would have been good, except ole Joe bein’ at home sick, Cal workin’ his ass off for Bonnie and Nicky and because his Dad’s insurance was shit. Joe was dyin’ in that house with Bonnie in it and the kid. Bonnie fell off the wagon, Cal’d drag her back on, she’d fall off again, Cal dragged her back on. It was relentless but he never gave up.”

“He did, they’re divorced,” I stated, though divorced or not, Joe never mentioned a child, his son and fear had hold of my soul that she had him, that wreck of a woman was raising Joe’s boy.

“Yeah,” Mike clipped. “He got shot of her. He got shot of her when he came home and found the cops all over his house. She was out of it, took the Dad’s drugs, don’t even know what he was on, pain killers probably, got smashed, for some reason decided to give her baby a bath and then she forgot he was in the tub –”

Pain shot through me, agonizing pain, infiltrating every cell in my body. I knew where this was going and I couldn’t stop it before I cried, “Don’t!”

Mike’s arm was around me and it got tight as his voice got quiet.

“Yeah, sweetheart, Nicky drowned in the bathtub. Ole Joe found him, saw the state of Bonnie, called the police but it was such a bad scene, he was so far gone health-wise, he had a heart attack. He was dead before the cops got to the house. Cal showed up, his kid dead, his Dad dead and his wife arrested for involuntary manslaughter.”

I was shaking my head but Mike kept talking.

“Colt got the callout. He was the first on the scene.”

“Please, Mike,” I whispered, turning away, setting my glass on the coffee table and Mike leaned into me, setting his glass beside mine and his arms pulled me to him again.

His arms were strong, this was a better position of safety and togetherness but after hearing that about Joe, Bonnie, his son, his Dad, it totally didn’t register on me. I was trembling in a way it felt like I’d never be able to stop.

“It was fucked up. Totally,” Mike’s voice was almost a whisper. “She did time, not much, criminally negligent. Cal divorced her while she was inside. I thought it was over, least for him. I had no idea she ever came back, I can’t imagine why the fuck she would. Her comin’ back, askin’ for money, that’s not only fucked up, it’s plain cruel. His Dad was dyin’ but not dead, she essentially killed him. Her kid, shit. Her kid. Cal’s boy. Totally fucked.”

I stared at him and whispered the God’s honest truth, “Women don’t love that shit, Mike.”

He gave me another squeeze of his arms and replied, “No, sweetheart, that wasn’t what I meant. They love the broken man, the heart that bleeds, think they can fix it.”

“I had no idea.”

“Now you do, you wanna fix it?”

My eyes slid over Mike’s shoulder and I looked out his window.

That nightmare had obviously happened seventeen years ago. I hated it that Joe experienced that, it felt like acid in my veins, I hated it so much.

But I knew, the way Joe was, the way he looked, the way he acted, there were likely a lot of women before me who knew all about it and tried to fix him.

Joe just couldn’t be fixed.

A one-woman man, like his Dad, Mike said. Did everything for her. Kept her safe, tried to keep her straight and was good enough to put her in a taxi instead of slam the door in her face when she’d killed his baby and essentially killed his father.

A one-woman man, he’d just picked the wrong woman, the really wrong one.

Joe was never going to be fixed, he didn’t want to be and therefore, he never would.

“Violet,” Mike called and I looked at him.

“No,” I replied, “I don’t want to fix Joe.”

That was a lie, I did, I really wanted to, I wanted to so badly I could taste it in my mouth, feel it hollowing out my belly, like that hunger I had for him.

I just knew I couldn’t.

Mike’s hand came to my face, his fingers curving around my jaw, his thumb at my cheek, using it to bring it close so his mouth could touch mine then he gently pushed me away an inch but his hand didn’t leave my face.

“Thinkin’ I killed the mood,” he muttered.

I gave him a weak smile and agreed, “Yeah.”

“Not a bad thing, sweetheart, ‘cause I’m also thinkin’ you need time.”

My weak smile died and I agreed again, “Yeah.”

“You want me around while you take that time?”

I closed my eyes and dropped my forehead to his shoulder.

Then selfishly and stupidly, I whispered, “Yeah, Mike, I do, if you wanna be around.”

I felt his body relax against mine and he murmured, “Good, ‘cause I wanna be around.”

I lifted my head, needing the mood to shift again, not back to before but to something normal, sane, that didn’t include drowned babies or Joe’s broken heart.

Therefore I asked, “You mind if we watch a movie?”

“I’ll only mind if you don’t cuddle up to me while we’re doin’ it.”

My smile was less weak when I said, “I think I can do that.”

“Then go pick what you wanna watch.”

I kept smiling at him and started to pull away then went back to him.

“Mike?” I called when his eyes caught mine.

“You’re practically in my lap, honey,” he answered on a grin.

“Thanks for puttin’ up with my shit,” I whispered.

His face got soft and his hand came back to curve around my jaw. “I’m a slow learner, sad but true, but one thing I learned, there’re women whose shit is worth puttin’ up with and women whose it isn’t. I’m guessin’ you’re the first category.”

“I don’t know, I’ve got a bad temper,” I told him honestly.

“Then I’ll try not to piss you off.”

“That would be advised.”

He grinned, kissed me lightly again, dropped his hand from my face and said, “Go pick a movie.”

“Okay,” I replied, got up, picked a movie, Mike put it in and we cuddled on the couch while we watched it.

The movie was good and, since Mike owned it, he obviously liked it.

The best part was being tucked, my back to his front on the couch, my head on his bicep, his arm tight at my waist, our legs entwined, doing a bit of nothing, watching a movie, in a family room, in a family house, with a dog stretched at the side of the couch.

That was the best part.

And I loved it. I even had to admit I loved doing it with Mike just as I admitted that I’d prefer doing it with Joe.

But Joe didn’t cuddle and watch movies or make dinner or have a dog.

And Joe never would.

Cal was still on his deck when night had fallen and he heard Violet’s Mustang in her drive.

As if she was doing it to piss him off, she didn’t use the garage.

He stayed on the deck taking another swig of beer, which one he had no clue, he’d lost count, as he heard her side door open and close.

He stayed where he was, staring into the dark, knowing she wasn’t going to come to him that night, the first night he was home in a long time she wasn’t in his bed.

It was awhile later, he was considering getting another beer or going for the bourbon, when he heard her side door open then her keys jingle to lock it.

He waited then looked to the side when he heard her feet hit the steps to his deck.

She walked up to him and stopped by the chair Colt had vacated hours ago.

“Don’t say it,” she warned.

He had no idea what she didn’t want him to say but he replied, “Buddy, I didn’t say a word.”

She hesitated then sat down next to him, cocking her legs and putting her feet up on the railing.

She was in her clothes, a jeans skirt, tighter than the other one, in fact, it was tight all the way down the sides of her thighs, a slit up the front. She had on a little purple blouse, the neckline was wide, showed her chest not her cleavage and it was loose but cinched at her waist. She was barefoot.

He didn’t have to ask if she had a good night, not that he would have. She left at a quarter to six, it had to be close to midnight, maybe after. Plenty of time to eat and do all sorts of shit if you were having a good time. He knew what he’d be doing if Vi was at his house that long, exactly what he did do when Vi was at his house that long. He reckoned Haines wouldn’t be far off that mark, what he knew was, if Vi had let him fuck her, she wouldn’t be sitting beside him right now.

Cal didn’t want to feel relieved but that didn’t mean he fucking wasn’t.

For once she seemed happy to be silent but Cal was not.

He downed the last of the beer and dropped his hand.

“Should give Haines a clean run.”

He felt rather than saw her head turn in his direction but she didn’t speak.

“Not gonna do that, buddy,” he told his dark yard. “You might not like what we got, but I do.”

“Joe,” she said softly and when she did he wondered why they were sitting on his deck rather than in his bed.

He turned to her. “You don’t like it, you’re the one’s gonna have to end it.”

She didn’t say anything, not for awhile then she said quietly, “I’m tired, Joe.”

He turned back to face his yard.

“Then go to bed.”

She hesitated then moved but he didn’t hear her feet padding down his steps, he heard his sliding glass door open then close.

He sat where he was, staring at his yard and he did this for a long time. Then he reached down, grabbed the two beer bottles that had collected by his chair when he stopped bothering to take them in when he went to get another. He went into his house, to his kitchen, dumped the bottles in his trash and he went to his room.

Violet was in his bed. She didn’t move when he came in, didn’t move when he took off his clothes but she made a noise low in her throat and shifted when he got in bed. Then he settled on his back, she was curled with her back to him and she again didn’t move.

He listened to her steady breathing.

Fuck, she was asleep in his bed, not waiting for him, not about to turn around and have a conversation, suck his cock or ride him. She was asleep.

You wouldn’t believe how sweet it is, knowin’ at the end of the day, she’ll crawl right back into my bed, Colt had said.

Cal closed his eyes then rolled into Vi, curling an arm around her stomach and pulling her into his body, noting she was wearing one of his tees.

He smelled her hair as he bent his neck and the bridge of his nose rested against her crown.

“Joe?” she called, he’d woken her but she still sounded half-asleep.

“Go back to sleep, baby.”

“Okay,” she whispered and her body settled into his.

He didn’t know why she was there, didn’t know why she kept coming back, didn’t know, she could have a good man like Haines, why she left Haines’s house and ended her night in Cal’s bed.

And he didn’t care.

She was there.

Cal pressed into her and, within minutes, he was asleep.