At Peace

Chapter Eight Come to Jesus

I opened the kitchen door to see, over the bar opening into the dining area, Kate and Dane going out the front door.

“We’re goin’ to Joe’s, Mom,” Kate called on a wave, Dane waved too and then they were out the door.

I stood where I was and stared at the door, wondering why Kate and Dane were going to Joe’s. I also wondered why my daughter casually informed me of that fact like she went to Joe’s every evening before dinner.

“Yo, Momalicious, what’s for dinner?” Keira asked, wandering down the hall and pulling me out of my stupor.

I closed the door behind me and entered my house, putting my purse on the counter and deciding then to wonder, for the fifty thousandth time since I lifted the ban on Dane coming to the house when I wasn’t there, if I should have lifted the ban on Dane coming to the house when I wasn’t there. This was something Kate had difficulty with now that it was summer and she didn’t see him at school every day so I’d given in but only after I’d given her an honest sex talk which left us both uncomfortable. Hopefully Kate more so or at least enough for her to just say no.

Then I remembered that Keira asked me a question so I answered her. “I don’t know, baby, what do you want?”

“Fried chicken,” she answered.

“That takes marinating,” I informed her of something she already knew.

“No, I mean Kentucky Fried Chicken, not Momalicious Fried Chicken.” She grinned and leaned a hip on the counter. “After a hard day at the garden center, I wouldn’t make my fabulous mother cook fried chicken.”

Oh shit, she wanted something.

I crossed my arms on my chest and looked at my daughter.

“All right, gorgeous, what do you want?”

She put her hand to her chest. “Moi?”

“Spill.”

“Just fried chicken,” she told me then smiled wickedly. “And a cut-rate American Husky doggie that’s cute, white and super fluffy.”

The dog. The damned dog. Since the barbeque all she could talk about was the two hundred dollar dog.

“We’ll talk about the dog later.”

“Mom!” she leaned into me. “The weeks are sliding by. They only have five puppies and they’ve already sold three.”

“Give me more time to think.”

“I can’t!”

“You can.”

“Mom –”

“Keira.”

We locked eyes and I knew I’d win, I always did. Keira had the patience of a gnat. In no time, she huffed and stomped a foot then started out of the kitchen.

“Hey,” I called after her as the phone started ringing. “Why’s Kate goin’ to Joe’s?”

“Dunno!” Keira called back and I grabbed the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey babe, get your ass down to J&J’s tonight,” Cheryl said in my ear. “I’m off and since your hot-as-shit, bad boy, player, next door neighbor is off limits and I’m feelin’ a hankerin’ for some man company, I need someone to go on the prowl with me.”

Since the barbeque Cheryl had started to call me daily. I knew why. One, she was a nice person. Two, she liked me. Three, she knew it sucked my husband died and thought I needed a friend. Four, she knew it sucked that Joe had played me and thought I needed a friend. Five, she knew it sucked that Daniel Hart was messing with my head and thought I needed a friend. And six, she didn’t have a lot of friends and even I knew I was a good one, she obviously guessed I was, so she wanted me to be her friend.

Feb had told me the day after the barbeque that Cheryl had asked for my number and Feb asked if it was okay if she gave it to her. I said yes and since then every day she’d called.

“Cheryl –”

“Not that you’d be my first choice seein’ as you’re hot too, so you might cut into my action, but Colt’s workin’ so Feb’s home with the kid. Jessie’s a fuckin’ loon and she scares me a little. Mimi’s got kids and Al’s out with his buds tonight so she’s in. Dee’s workin’ so she’s out and I got a night off and a babysitter so it has to be you and it has to be tonight.”

“Cheryl, there’s something I haven’t told you,” I said, grabbing a soda from the fridge and heading to my bedroom, opening it with a pop and fizz.

“What?” Cheryl asked.

“Hang on, I need to get to my room,” I said quietly, even though there was music coming from Keira’s room, another boy band playing so she probably couldn’t hear me but you couldn’t be too careful.

“Ooo, juicy if the girls can’t hear,” Cheryl said into my ear.

I closed the door to my room, took a drink from my pop and sat on my bed.

“It’s about Joe.”

“Your hot-as-shit, bad boy, player, next door neighbor?”

I grinned at the phone. “Yeah, him.”

“What about him?”

“Well…” I hesitated, “it’s back on.”

“What?” Cheryl yelled.

“Um…”

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long’s it been back on?” Cheryl was getting crotchety with impatience.

“Since the night of the barbeque.”

She was quiet a moment then slowly, she said, “You. Are. Shittin’. Me.”

“No.”

There was a pause then a shrieked, “Why haven’t you told me?”

“I was, um… he went out of town and I wasn’t sure that, um… when he got back that we’d still…”

“Is he back?”

“He got back yesterday.”

“Are you still –?”

“Yeah.”

“I knew it.”

“You did?”

“Girl, a man does not get like he got when those flowers were delivered when it’s nothin’ but a convenient next door booty call.”

“It’s still a booty call.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, he made that clear. It’s just sex.”

I heard a “poof” sound of expelled breath over the phone then, “Yeah, right.”

“Colt got intense when the flowers were delivered too,” I reminded her.

“Yeah, Colt also had the asshole of all assholes doing sick fuck crazy ass shit to him and Feb for twenty freakin’ years so he knows your pain like no other.”

Cheryl did too, she was involved in that mess as well, not for twenty years but also not in a good way, not that there was a good way in that mess, except maybe the fact that the crazy guy ended up being riddled with bullets. She’d told me all about it a couple of nights ago. I’d been astonished that she’d pulled it together so fast. It had been over a year ago, but still, she was right. It was “sick fuck crazy ass shit” and she made it to the other side.

Then again, Cheryl had shared other stuff in her life so I got the firm impression she was a fighter.

“Your hot-as-shit, bad boy, player, next door neighbor doesn’t know your pain,” Cheryl went on in my ear. “He’s just goin’ all alpha male when someone fucks with his woman.”

My heart lurched and I whispered, “I’m not Joe’s woman.”

“Babe, seriously? Wake up.”

“I’m not.”

“All right,” she said, “tell me, how are you not?”

“Well, he hasn’t asked me out on a date,” I started.

“He fuck you?”

“Um… yeah.”

“That’s a date to a guy,” she declared. “Next.”

I started giggling. “Cheryl, really, he’s made no promises.”

“They never do.”

“Tim did.”

“Tim was eighteen, a decent kid and got his bitch pregnant. Only the not-decent guys, like Ethan’s fuckhead father, bolt when that shit hits. You lucked out.”

I knew that, boy did I know that.

“Anyway, what else?” Cheryl pushed.

“You met him, I don’t know how he was with you but he’s pretty straight and he made it clear. His truck is in the drive, I’m welcome in his bed. Other than that, no go. I’ve asked him over for dinner, pancakes, even the girls asked him over for dinner. He never showed.”

“He took you to the mall.”

“He got shang hai’ed by Keira.”

“Girl, you been off the market way too long. You marry a man, he’s lawfully bound to drag his ass to the mall with you. Your girl is cute and she’s sweet and she’s funny but there is no fuckin’ man on this fuckin’ earth who goes to a fuckin’ mall unless there’s someone he wants to be with while he’s there or there’s some shit hot sale on TVs. A sweet, cute, funny teenage girl asks him or not. And that’s the God’s honest truth.”

I licked my lips and thought about last night. I thought about how Joe met me on the deck like he was waiting for me to come over, as anxious to see me after a week and a half as I was to see him. I thought about how Joe walked back to my house to make it safer for my girls. I thought about that whole sad, crazy, ugly drama with his sad, scary, drunk-and-high ex-wife and how he was and how he let me be with him after. I thought about how he wanted me to walk home in his t-shirt. If that didn’t make a statement, him giving me his clothes, even demanding I wear them, nothing did. And I thought about what Cheryl was saying.

And I could not go there again.

“Cheryl,” I said softly, “I can’t go there again.”

“Babe –”

“No, I just can’t. Okay? This is what it is, all it is, and I’m cool with that now that I know what it is. I live my life and I’m not alone some of the time and the sex is fantastic and I can take only that. Something else comes along then it comes along. Joe’ll deal.”

“Something else comes along, Joe’s fuckin’ head will explode.”

I wasn’t sure that was true. I wasn’t sure that Joe wouldn’t shrug, say, “Enjoy your life, buddy,” and walk away. I wasn’t sure of that at all.

So I needed to stay right where I was and not go there again.

“Can we stop talking about this?”

Cheryl was silent then she asked, “You comin’ out with me tonight?”

I couldn’t go over to Joe’s until the girls were asleep anyway so I said, “Yeah, sure, sounds fun.”

“It’ll be a blast. Meet you there at, say, eight thirty?”

“Great.”

“Cool, see you then and… dress down, babe, I don’t need the competition.”

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous.”

“I’m a dick magnet.”

“We’ll find you a good one.”

“Well, hopefully you can spot ‘em because I can’t,” she told me then finished, “later.”

“Bye.”

She hung up and I got up from my bed. Taking another sip from my soda, I crossed the room, opened the door and yelled, “Keira! You comin’ with me to KFC?”

“Yeah!” Keira yelled back.

I put the phone on its charger in the kitchen, grabbed my purse, Keira hit the kitchen and I hustled my daughter out the door. I managed not to look at Joe’s house at all as I got in my Mustang, pulled out and drove away.

I looked in the bathroom mirror and hoped Cheryl wouldn’t be pissed at me.

I decided not to dress down but to make an effort. I didn’t know why, just that after KFC (with Dane eating the vast majority of the bucket which I knew he would and also why I bought an entire bucket), I got the urge to make an effort. I hadn’t done anything since before Tim died (except dress for his funeral) where I could make myself up, wear something a bit nicer and feel good about myself for awhile, so I did it.

However if Cheryl wore spike-heeled slut sandals to a backyard barbeque, I figured my effort would pale in comparison.

I finished my lip gloss and walked to my bureau, selecting jewelry and putting it on. Then I looked down at my phone.

Since I started my preparations, I’d looked to my phone about two dozen times, struggling with whether or not to make the call.

Then I snatched it up, thinking, fuck it.

I went to the phonebook, scrolled down, found the number Colt had given me and I’d programmed in as “Joe’s Cell” and I hit go.

It rang three times.

Then it was answered with Joe’s rumbly voice saying, “Yo.”

“Joe?”

Silence then, “Vi.”

“Hey.”

“What’s up, buddy?”

“Um…”

I wanted to know, why I didn’t ask my daughter and her boyfriend I didn’t know but I mostly didn’t because she didn’t offer the information and I was careful not to be too nosy with my teenage daughter but I still wanted to know.

“Vi,” Joe called in my ear.

“Why did Kate and Dane come over today?”

Joe didn’t hesitate in answering. “Dane wanted to know about what I do.”

“What?”

“Kate talked to me at the mall, said Dane was interested in my business. He’s a senior next year, he’s considerin’ his future.”

“Oh,” I muttered, thinking again that Dane was a good kid, taking time to consider his future and being smart enough to talk to an expert about it then I looked to the clock, saw it was already eight twenty-five and that I needed to get out of there so I muttered, “Well, thanks.”

“Violet.”

“Yeah?”

“Is that it?”

“Yeah.”

“Everything else cool?”

“Um…” I decided on a different ring then the one I put on, took the one I had on off and slid the other one on and said, “Yeah, sure, why?”

“You seem distracted.”

“I’m a Mom, we’re always distracted.”

“Know some times you aren’t distracted, buddy.”

I stopped moving and I felt a rush of heat between my legs, remembering those same times.

“Joe,” I whispered.

“What’s on your mind?”

Did booty call partners care what was on their booty call’s mind?

“Um…”

“Vi,” his rumbly voice was a warning. He was, I found, not fond of asking twice.

“Keira wants a dog.” I blurted.

“Come again?”

“Keira wants a dog. She’s always wanted a dog. Her friend Heather’s dog had puppies, they’re some kind of breed that costs a lot of money and Keira wants one.”

“So get her a dog.”

“They cost two hundred dollars, they’re an extra mouth to feed and I need vet bills like I need a hole in the head.”

This was met with total silence. Silence so total, it scared me and I stopped randomly pawing through my jewelry box and listened to the sheer totalness of the silence.

Then softly, Joe said, “It’s dog food, buddy.”

“I know.”

“That’s not an extra mouth to feed.”

“Um…”

“You hurtin’?”

“Hurtin’ for what?”

“Money.”

I swallowed, thinking this was definitely not booty call territory.

“We’re good.”

Again that utter silence.

Then he muttered, “Bullshit.”

“No, we’re fine.”

“We’ll talk when you get over here tonight.”

We would?

“Joe –”

His voice dropped low when he ordered, “Wear my shirt over, baby.”

My stomach flipped, not pleasantly, and I whispered, “You want it back?”

“No, wanna fuck you in it again.”

My stomach flipped again, this time pleasantly, and I whispered, “Okay.”

“Better than your nightgowns.”

“You’ve never fucked me in one of my nightgowns,” I reminded him. “You always take them off.”

“Skin feels better than lace, buddy.”

“Oh.”

“Those things are sweet, but you look better naked.”

“Oh.”

Wow.

He thought I looked better naked than in my nightgowns?

Wow.

“Anything else distractin’ you?” he asked.

It seemed to me, he wanted to talk. It seemed to me, he wanted to take the constant Mom load off my mind, a load I used to be able to share with Tim, a load I’d borne alone for too long.

That’s what it seemed like to me.

Then again, that was probably what I wanted it to seem like.

“Well, except for the fact that I lifted the ban off Dane bein’ here when I’m not and wondering if that was the right thing to do, no.”

“Looked in your house last night when I got home. The kids were all in the kitchen, makin’ dinner and laughin’. You were good, least last night.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

I liked the thought of Joe looking in my house and seeing the kids laughing. That felt good.

It felt good until Joe continued. “Still, he’s a teenage boy so every other minute he’s thinkin’ about gettin’ in her pants.”

That felt bad.

“Joe!”

“Bein real, buddy, you should know that and you should talk to her about condoms.”

“I’ve already talked to her about abstinence.”

Joe burst out laughing and I froze, listening to the richness of it. I’d never heard him laugh. I wasn’t even certain he could laugh. He was my hot-as-shit, bad boy, player, next door, security to the stars booty call. He was a serious, scary, rugged, sinister, alpha male. Men like that didn’t laugh.

When his laughter died down, I could still hear its timbre in his question. “Your folks talk to you about abstinence?”

“My mother is asexual. I think my father kidnapped Sam and me.”

“Everyone’s mother is asexual.”

“Not like my mother. She’s a robot programmed to one emotion, disapproval.”

“See you’re close with your Ma.”

“She doesn’t even send me a Christmas card.”

Again, there was silence, this time it was strangely weighty then he asked, “No shit?”

“No shit. She has nothing to do with me or my girls.”

“That’s fucked.”

“Yep.”

“You send her one?”

“Every year but only because I semi-kinda-like my Dad because he buys gifts for the girls on the internet that he can hide from my Mom amongst other purchases.”

“Your family sounds kind of fucked up, buddy.”

“I’m American, it’s the American way.”

“Got that right,” he muttered.

I wanted to ask about his family. I knew his mother was Italian and from Chicago but there were a lot of Italians in Chicago, that’s why they made the best pizza in the world there (outside of Italy, I was guessing, since I’d never been to Italy). When he spoke of her, he said “was” which made me think she wasn’t around anymore. He also had a murdered cousin named Vinnie that he was close to who happened to be in the mafia, pre-murder. This was kind of scary information to have and I was trying to ignore it, especially since Daniel Hart was involved. That’s all I knew.

But I didn’t think it was my place to ask and I had to get to Cheryl. I was now, officially, late.

“Joe, I gotta go.”

“All right, Vi,” I started to say good-bye but he went on. “I see Dane again, we’ll have a talk.”

I blinked then asked, “About what?”

“About respect.”

“Respect?”

“Respect for his woman. Takin’ care of her.”

I froze again.

Then I whispered, “Joe –”

“Figure you don’t regret what happened to you, you got Kate, but that shit goes down for them, it could play out differently, they should be clued in. Yeah?”

Why was he being so nice?

And laughing?

And interested in everything?

I didn’t come up with any answers because Joe kept talking. “Speakin’ of that, Vi, you said you weren’t on the pill and we haven’t –”

“I, uh… went back on after the first time, we, uh…” God, how embarrassing. “Anyway, no worries. It’s all good.”

How fun, telling my booty call I’d been having regular periods.

He cut into my embarrassment with a quiet, “Good news, baby.”

And why was he calling me “baby” more often?

I wasn’t complaining but did booty calls use sweet nothings?

I needed to ask Cheryl so I repeated, “Joe, I have to go.”

“Use your side door tonight, lock it.”

“Okay.”

“Later.”

“Bye.”

I slid my phone closed and stared at it.

He kept moving the goalposts for this booty call business. How could he say no to dinner but then talk to my daughter’s boyfriend about condoms and respect for his “woman”?

It didn’t make sense and I didn’t have the time or experience to stand in my bedroom pondering it. I needed to get to J&J’s.

And anyway, Cheryl would have the answers.

I wandered back to the bar from the bathroom, seeing Cheryl sitting at the bar, a fresh drink in front of her, a fresh drink in front of my empty stool and an extremely attractive, tall, dark blond man standing behind her. She was twisted in her stool, looking up at him and chatting.

I was not wrong about her outfit; she definitely made me pale in comparison. No man was looking at me considering the amount of cleavage and leg she was displaying. I’d actually seen two guys walk into tables because they were mesmerized by her flesh display.

I slid by a couple of people, having to get close to the blond guy Cheryl was talking to to get to my seat. He looked down at me as I squeezed by, I saw he had nice, dark brown eyes and was more than a little attractive up close and I slid onto my stool.

“Hey,” he said and I heard he also had a nice, deep voice.

“Hi,” I replied.

He kept looking at me and I smiled at him, waiting for Cheryl to introduce us. When she didn’t, I looked at her to see she was looking down to Colt’s end of the bar (which was the way I thought of it since Colt always sat at the last stool of the bar, closest to the wall, the office behind him). She was smiling a little, sneaky smile and I was about to look over my shoulder to see what she was smiling at when the man spoke.

“I’m Mike.”

I looked up at him and said, “Violet.”

“I know, Cheryl mentioned she was out with you tonight.”

“Ah,” I said because there was no real response to that.

I picked up my cranberry juice and vodka and sucked on the straw.

He kept talking. “You should also know I know you because I work with Colt.”

I put down my drink and asked, “What?”

“I’m a cop. Lieutenant Mike Haines.”

“Uh…”

“It’s okay, Violet, I just didn’t want you to find out later that I knew your deal. Would suck, we had a conversation, I didn’t mention it and then you found out I knew all about it. You’d think I was a dick, so thought it best to lay it out there.”

That was nice so I smiled and said, “Thanks.”

He smiled back and said, “Hope it’s not weird. Can’t imagine how weird it’d feel, someone knowin’ you before you know them. Don’t know how Feb handles it when the serial killer tourists hit the bar.”

Feb had mentioned this to me at the Christmas party at Myrtle’s house. She told me how the people who heard about her bad business and read about it in the book that was published came to the bar. It was quieting down but at first it was constant and she, nor Colt, nor anyone in town, liked it much.

“Unfortunately, I think she’s used to it,” I told him.

He smiled again and, this time, I noticed he had a nice smile in fact it was a really nice smile. “Yeah.”

“Anyway, thanks for bein’ honest.”

“Colt doesn’t talk, he just briefed us in case shit went down,” Mike assured me.

I smiled again too and said, “Well, glad you’re briefed.”

“Has shit gone down?”

I shook my head. “Since the flowers? No.”

Cheryl, who had been silent during our conversation, suddenly stood up.

“I’m gonna go visit the powder room. You two talk.” She looked up at Mike and said, “You can take my stool. I’m gonna cruise the room before I get back. Just in case Colt didn’t give you the full brief, she works at the garden center and has two daughters. They’re gorgeous, good kids. And she’s nice so, you fuck her over, you’re on my shit list.” Then she looked at me and said, straight out, “He’s got a son and a daughter and he’s single. His divorce was finalized two months ago, don’t know what’s up with the divorce, I quizzed Colt, he was locked up tight, Feb too. Joint custody. Haven’t met his kids so I can’t vouch for them, they could be hooligans. Beware.” Then, after sharing those tidbits, she clapped me on the shoulder, Mike on the arm and ordered, “Commence flirting.” Then she walked away.

I watched her move and I did it with my mouth hanging open. I knew it was hanging open but I couldn’t find it in me to close it.

Mike took her stool and leaned into me so I swung my eyes to him.

“Relax, Violet,” he put his hand to my knee, gave it a squeeze then took his hand away, “I’m all for flirtin’, if you’re up for that, but we can also just talk.”

“I’ve no clue how to flirt,” I blurted. “I married my high school boyfriend.”

He grinned and I noted he had a nice grin too, more than nice, it was devilish, then he asked, “Wanna learn?”

I laughed at the concept of Lieutenant Mike Haines, one son, one daughter, joint custody, teaching me how to flirt in J&J’s Saloon and said, “Sure, sock it to me, how do you flirt?”

“You want the hard core stuff or the subtle stuff?” he asked.

I picked up my glass and rested the straw on my lip, looking at him the whole time and decided to be adventurous. “Hard core.”

Then I used the tip of my tongue to nab my straw, sucked back some drink and saw his eyes watch my mouth do this.

Then his eyes came back to mine and he muttered, “You’re full of it.”

I swung my drink away and asked, “What?”

“The straw ploy,” he dipped his head to my drink, “advanced flirting,” I looked at my drink then at him when he finished approvingly, “the tongue, nice touch.”

I was feeling suddenly strange and I put my straw back to my lips, mumbling, “Um…” then I covered the fact I didn’t know what to say by sucking up another sip.

Mike went on. “Next thing you’ll do is tie the stem of a cherry in a knot with your tongue.”

I choked on my cranberry juice and vodka.

Mike put a hand to my back, which was easy to do considering I was leaned nearly double trying to take in deep breaths while still choking.

“Hey, you okay?”

I lifted up, placed my glass on the bar and patted my chest. “Just… went down the wrong tube,” I gasped.

“Take another sip, it’ll help,” Mike advised, I took his advice and he was right.

I put the glass back on the bar, looked at him and said hesitantly, “So, um… flirting question.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

“Nope,” he smiled.

I smiled back when he didn’t answer and asked, “How old are you?”

“Forty.”

“Okay, I’m thirty-five.”

He was still smiling when he said on a prompt, “Right.”

I carried on. “And you’re saying, at our ages, the knotting the cherry stem flirting trick still works?”

“Sweetheart, I’ll be a hundred and two and that’ll work like Viagra.”

Shit!

“Why?” he asked, watching me closely.

“Just that, I thought you boys got over that at, say, nineteen, maybe twenty.”

“Nope.”

I couldn’t believe it. I’d flirted with Joe the entire time we were at J&J’s together. No wonder he thought he could take me home and fuck me.

“Violet, you okay?”

“No,” I told Mike. “Not too long ago, a guy told me he’d pay me fifty bucks to tie a cherry stem with my tongue. I thought he was jokin’ around.”

Mike grinned and said, “Sorry, darlin’, he wasn’t.”

“Shit,” I whispered.

“You do it?”

“Yeah,” I told him. “He didn’t seem impressed.”

“Oh, he was impressed,” Mike assured me.

I guessed he was since he dragged me out of the bar not five minutes after, took me home and fucked me.

God, I was an idiot.

“You get the fifty?”

“Kind of… we had somewhat of a fight the next day and I threw it in his face.”

Mike burst out laughing.

“What?” I asked when I thought he could hear me over his laughter.

He leaned in. “The next day?” He shook his head as I realized what I gave away or what he thought I gave away which was, essentially, what I gave away and then he whispered, “Darlin’.”

“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

“God’s honest truth?” he asked.

“Hit me,” I told him.

“You squeezed by me, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in this town since Feb came home. Now I think you’re cute as all hell but still beautiful. What I don’t think is that you’re an idiot.”

I bit my lip then I whispered, “Thanks.”

“Won’t pay you fifty bucks but I’ll take you to dinner tomorrow night, you tie a cherry stem in a knot with your tongue,” he offered and I felt my body still. “Though, you should know, you don’t, I’ll still take you to dinner tomorrow night.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” I asked moronically.

“Yeah,” he answered quietly, not making me feel like a moron.

I didn’t know what to do. I liked him but Joe had been acting differently and, considering that Cheryl and I hadn’t been there but for a drink that led into two when Mike showed and she knew everyone in the bar and introduced me to all of them so I hadn’t had the time to ask her about Joe, I didn’t know what to think of Joe.

However Joe had been clear what I should think of Joe and, seeing as Joe was pretty clear about most everything, I figured Joe would be clear if I should think differently about Joe.

And Mike was handsome, nice, funny, he had a great smile and a devilish grin and he thought I was beautiful.

Therefore I said, “Okay.”

“Remind me,” he said and I blinked.

“Remind you?”

“Remind me, tomorrow night, you let me kiss you when I take you home, to thank Colt for takin’ that case that hit my desk so he’s workin’ tonight and I’m here with you.”

I was wrong. Mike was handsome, funny, he thought I was beautiful and he was really, freaking nice.

“Are your kids hooligans?” I asked and he smiled.

“Yeah, terrors. It’s good they’re growin’ up and out of the house with their friends most of the time, now they can terrorize other people. Your girls?”

“Kate’s okay, except she’s wrapped up in a boy so she pretty much doesn’t exist unless his essence is inserted in the atmosphere. Keira’s a pain in the ass but at least she’s funny while bein’ a pain in the ass.”

“Sounds like teenagers.”

“You should be warned, Keira also listens to boy bands,” I watched him flinch and couldn’t help but laugh.

“My son Jonas is in a band. Drums,” he informed me.

“Ouch.”

He nodded and added, “Loud.”

“Ouch again.”

I grabbed my glass and took another sip, his eyes dropped to it and he asked, “Do you want another?”

I shook my head and said, “I drove here.” Then I leaned into him and shared conspiratorially, “See, rumor has it, cops hang in this bar. Wouldn’t be good for a girl to get tipsy and then slide behind the wheel of a car.”

He leaned in closer too and grinned before saying, “Yeah, I heard that rumor too and cops really don’t like that shit. But, if I buy you a drink, you’ll promise to get you and Cheryl a taxi?”

I nodded as I sucked on my straw, he watched my mouth then shook his head, muttering, “Flirting lessons, fuck me.”

“I’m not flirting,” I told him.

“Then sweetheart, you’re a natural.”

I didn’t respond because I watched as his eyes went behind the bar, he gave a jerk of his chin then tipped his head to me which I suspected was his nonverbal, man ordering of another drink for me. His eyes came back to me but then they jerked over my shoulder and he straightened a bit. He focused on something then looked at me.

“Violet, there a reason Joe Callahan is lookin’ at me like he wants to rip my head off?”

I felt my body tense, my chest expand and I whispered, “What?”

His eyes went back over my shoulder and I watched his frame relax as he muttered, “Must be seein’ things.”

I looked over my shoulder to see Colt’s stool empty, so was the one next to it. A bunch of people I didn’t know were huddled at the end of the bar. No Joe.

“I know Cal’s helpin’ out with your thing, he’s your neighbor,” Mike said and I looked back to him. “Coulda sworn he was just there, lookin’ pissed as all hell.”

“He wasn’t there?”

“He was there, now he’s gone. Man’s fast, always was.”

At the thought of Joe being there, I licked my lips then bit them and Mike’s gaze grew more intense. “There a reason he might be lookin’ at me that way?”

I stared into his eyes and remembered he was honest with me right off the bat. He deserved the same thing.

“Joe and I are complicated.”

“You call him Joe?”

“Yeah.”

“No one calls him Joe.”

I shrugged.

“How complicated?” he pressed.

“I don’t really know but I think, in the end, not very.”

“What does that mean?”

“Honestly?” I asked and he nodded. “I wish I knew. I don’t. All I know is, he’s being cool about the security thing, he’s helping to keep my girls safe and he and I are not very well defined.”

“Not very well defined?”

“Not at all.”

“Sounds like Cal,” he muttered and a chill slid across my skin, so cold I shivered. “You cool with that?” Mike went on.

“Not really.”

“You want defined?”

“I had clearly defined for seventeen years. It wasn’t perfect but it was pretty damned good. So, yeah, I want defined.”

“Not fuckin’ with you, Violet, swear to God, but Cal’s not about defined.”

I knew that but it sucked having it confirmed.

“He’s given me that impression,” I told Mike.

Mike’s jaw got hard and he looked at the bar as my drink was placed there by Darryl. He pulled out his wallet, slid a bill on the bar, gave Darryl a curt nod and I took the final sip of my last drink before I placed the empty by my new one.

“Mike?” I called and his eyes cut to me.

“Yeah?”

I took in a deep breath and asked, “How are you with defined?”

“I liked defined. My wife liked designer handbags that I couldn’t get her on a cop’s salary, our credit card bills were out the roof, month after month, no matter how much I talked to her about it. The house, not big enough. The car, not sporty enough. She married a cop, don’t know what she thought she’d get, ‘specially when she also didn’t think she needed to work. So her definition of defined wasn’t mine. But yeah, in the end, defined is a fuckuva lot better than not defined, as long as both people get where they’re goin’.”

“I like designer handbags,” I told him.

“Great,” he muttered.

“I work though.”

He looked at me.

“And, well, obviously, I like my daughters to eat and maybe, if I can swing it, my youngest to have the dog she’s always wanted and that’s more important than a handbag.”

He kept looking at me then said softly, “Yeah.”

“And, by the way, all women like designer handbags,” I told him, grabbed my drink and took a sip then finished, “Just to warn you. If you’re lookin’ for a woman who doesn’t like them, well… you’re kinda screwed.”

He grinned and asked, “They all need one a month?”

I choked on my drink again, luckily not to the point I had to lean over and deep breathe then asked, “She bought one a month?”

“I won’t get into the shoes.”

“Sure, I’d like one a month, if I was Ivana Trump.”

“I ain’t Donald.”

“They’re divorced too.”

He burst out laughing and I laughed with him, this laughing felt good, I hadn’t laughed like that in awhile nor smiled that much. The laughing was especially good since his face was even more handsome when he was laughing.

We talked awhile then Cheryl came back, coming up empty on her cruise. She started to relay the information about how all the men in the bar were losers and Mike wisely decided it was time to move on. He got my address, my phone number and told me he’d be at my house the next night to pick me up at seven thirty.

He also leaned in, his hand curled around my neck and he touched my mouth with his then his lips went to my ear and he whispered, “It’ll be better tomorrow night, sweetheart, promise.”

Then before I could say a word, which I didn’t get it together to do since I was concentrating on a little flutter in my stomach, he let me go and left.

“I’m livin’ in this town a year, I got nothin’. You’re here a few months, you got two hot guys all over you,” Cheryl bitched while sitting down then she shouted, “Dee, I’m dry!”

“Cheryl, I’m screwed,” I told her. “Joe was here.”

Her eyes came to me and she said, “Sure thing, babe, saw him, why you think I tagged Mike? Mike comes in all the time, totally knew you were his type. That works out I should sell my services as a matchmaker.”

I was still letting the first part of what she said sink in. “You saw Joe?”

“Yeah, he came in while you were in the bathroom.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“And miss my chance at forcin’ the come to Jesus? No way!”

Dee put Cheryl’s drink in front of her and moved away. Cheryl put the straw to her lips and sucked up a huge sip.

“A come to Jesus?” I asked through her sip.

She put her drink on the bar and turned to me. “Yeah, he sees you gettin’ flirted with by a hot guy, he either moves to protect his property or he steps aside. Either way, you know where you stand and you know what you gotta do. Come to Jesus.”

“So, you orchestrated that?”

“Am I your friend?”

“I don’t know, it depends on if Joe’s head explodes.”

“Don’t you want it to?”

“Cheryl, you haven’t been around him when he’s pissed, he’s kinda scary.”

“He get physical?”

“Not really, unless you mean sexually physical then the answer is yes, a lot, but that’s the good part.”

She grinned. “I hope it does. If it doesn’t, Mike’s cool, he’s also nice, he’s also hot and hopefully sex with him is the good part too, so you win either way.”

She wasn’t wrong about that but somehow, it felt like she was.

I sucked back more of my drink, looked where Mike looked when he saw Joe and I saw someone I didn’t know sitting on the stool next to Colt’s. I thought about Joe and going over in his t-shirt that night and I thought about Mike and our date.

And I thought about how my life was a lot less complicated before Daniel Hart blew it to pieces by ordering a hit on the man I loved who was the father of my children.

Then I sighed and sucked back more drink.

Even though we were both only slightly tipsy, being good citizens (and imbibing in a bar that did indeed get frequented by cops) Cheryl and I took a taxi home. I got dropped off first.

I pulled my remote out of my purse, disarmed the alarm, went in the side door, locked it and armed the alarm again. I checked on Keira who was sleeping then Kate who was also sleeping.

As I was heading to my room, my cell in my purse started ringing.

I walked to it on the kitchen counter, pulled it out, saw the display said “Joe’s Cell” and my breath caught in my throat.

Then I slid the phone open, put it to my ear and forced out, “Hello.”

“Get your ass over here.”

“Joe –”

“Now, buddy.”

Then I heard nothing, he’d disconnected. I stood frozen in the dark of my kitchen with a dead phone to my ear and I was thinking maybe Cheryl’s come to Jesus idea wasn’t such a good thing.

I was also thinking maybe I should hole myself up in my bedroom but Joe not only knew where I lived, he lived next door and he’d installed my alarm system and most likely had the knowledge of how to bypass it so I was pretty much screwed.

And what was I worried about anyway? These were his rules. I’d asked him to dinner, he’d told me he was done with me. What? I couldn’t go to dinner when someone asked me because Joe, apparently, wasn’t done with me?

I hit the buttons on the remote to disarm the alarm, grabbed my keys, unlocked the door, exited my house, locked the door and armed the alarm. I walked between my house and my garage and turned right toward Joe’s deck.

I got into his yard and nearly tripped.

He was standing in the dark on his deck, his hip against the railing, his foot crossed at the ankle, his arms crossed on his huge chest, waiting for me. He was wearing what appeared to be a black t-shirt (he didn’t seem to have anything else), jeans (he also didn’t seem to have anything other than jeans either) and boots (probably his motorcycle boots, which was all I’d ever seen him wear).

I walked up two of the four steps before he moved, leaning down to grab my hand then he dragged me up the two remaining steps so fast I almost tripped again. Then he swung me into his house and let me go, turning to slide the glass door shut then turning back to me.

“Joe –”

“You play that game often, buddy?”

“What?”

“On your stool, drunk and cute, suckin’ on your straw?”

“You have the wrong idea.”

“Yeah? You played me the same, exact, fuckin’ way.”

I felt some of my fear sliding away as anger replaced it.

“I played you?”

“Felt like I was watchin’ a movie after a rewind.”

I leaned forward and hissed, “You dick!”

He moved and Mike was right, he was fast. I was backed up against a wall before I knew what was happening.

My anger died an early death and I was back to scared.

“Joe –”

His hands were sliding around my back and down to my ass as he said, “I play you tonight.”

“No!” I cried. “Joe, listen to me, I’ve never flirted.”

“Baby, you’re the best fuckin’ flirt I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, I know, I found out tonight,” I told him, putting my hands to his chest and getting up on my toes. “Listen, Mike told me about the cherry thing and the straw thing. With you, I was just drunk. With him, I was just sipping my drink.”

“You did the cherry thing with him?” he growled.

“No!” I cried again. “He just told me about it, that, um… men even at a hundred and two, would… um, like that.”

“You know men like that.”

“I’ve been with the same guy since I was fifteen. Tim liked it. I just thought he never grew out of it since he’d been with me since he was sixteen. I mean, it’s not hard, doing that with a cherry stem. It isn’t like pole dancing or something.”

Joe was silent.

“Anyway, I’ve never had to flirt,” I continued. “Tim asked me out in the lunch line in the cafeteria in high school. I was buying bad pizza and chocolate milk. Do you get what I’m tellin’ you?”

Joe remained silent.

“Joe,” I whispered, my hands sliding up to his neck, “I didn’t play you. I don’t know how to play anyone.”

“He ask you out?”

Oh shit.

I closed my eyes.

“He asked you out,” Joe said softly.

I opened my eyes and whispered, “Joe –”

“And you’re goin’.”

“Joe –”

“When?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“I leave Sunday.”

“For how long?”

“A week, maybe two, meetings are pilin’ up.”

“Oh.”

His hands slid down my ass to my thighs as he bent slightly then I was going up, he pulled my legs apart and I wrapped them around his hips as his hands slid back to my ass and my arms went around his shoulders. Carrying me, he started walking down the hall.

“I’m not leavin’ for two weeks not gettin’ my fill of you.”

“Joe –”

“You come to me after he’s done with you.”

Oh God, why was this so fucked up?

“Joe, I don’t –”

He put a knee to his bed and then my back was to it and he was on me.

“You come to me or I come to you. Buddy, you want me fuckin’ you with your girls in the house then you stay home. You don’t, I hear your feet on the steps of my deck.”

His hand pulled my blouse from my jeans as I asked, “You’re not askin’ are you?”

His fingers pulled down the cup of my bra when he answered, “Nope.”

“Joe –” I whispered when his thumb swept over my nipple and I felt only that and forgot what we were talking about.

“Vi,” he called and I realized I’d closed my eyes so I opened them and focused on him. “There’s five hundred dollars on my nightstand, when you go home in the mornin’, you take it.”

My body stilled under his.

“What?”

“It’s for Keira’s dog and food.”

“The dog only costs two hundred dollars.”

“Then you can buy a lot of food.”

“Joe, you can’t do that.”

“You don’t buy her the dog, I talk to her tomorrow, find out where the dog is, I buy it and the food.”

“You can’t do that.”

His thumb did another swipe and I bit my lip.

“She wants a dog,” he stated.

“But –”

“Baby, she lost her Dad, she should get a fuckin’ dog.”

I swallowed and my body relaxed under his.

“I know,” I whispered and I did know, I’d known since the minute she brought it up.

“So take the money, buy her the fuckin’ dog.”

I put my hand to his scarred cheek and ran my thumb along his cheekbone.

“I’ll pay you back,” I promised.

“That’s for Keira, there’s no payback for Keira. You need somethin’ from me, we’ll discuss payback.”

“Joe –”

His mouth came to mine. “Done talkin’ now.”

“Joe –”

“Might be gone two weeks, we need to fuck.”

“Joe, please.”

“What?”

I dropped my head and slid my nose along his jaw until my mouth was at his ear and I whispered, “Thanks for the dog.”

With my mouth at his ear, his mouth was at mine when he whispered back, “Shut up, buddy.”

Then his finger met his thumb and he pinched my nipple and my mind went blank again.