Games of the Heart

Chapter Ten Dirty

I grunted, put all I had into it and got Mike to his back in his bed.

“Ha!” I laughed in his face.

A nanosecond later, I was on my back with all Mike’s weight on me.

“You were saying?” he asked, grinning.

“Ugh!” I groaned and bucked up my hips as hard as I could.

Mike went with them. I quickly turned under him and started to scramble away.

Mike’s arm sliced around my middle, pulled me down and his front pinned me, belly down to the bed.

“Say it,” he ordered in my ear. “Your boot camps are shit.”

“I’m not done kicking your ass,” I replied and, considering my position and the last fifteen minutes we’d been wrestling on his bed with me seriously losing, my words were both stubborn and ridiculous.

He knew it, I felt and heard him chuckle and his arm gave me a squeeze.

“Say it,” he repeated.

“No way!” I snapped, trying to lift him off me by shoving up my hips.

This was a tactical error seeing as this opened space for his hand to slide down and cup me between my legs.

I stilled.

“Say it,” he whispered in my ear and I shivered.

I liked this new game.

“No,” I whispered back.

His hand shifted up and his fingers started working my belt.

“Say it.”

“No.”

His fingers undid the button on my jeans then the zip went down.

“Say it, Angel.”

“Not on your life, babe.”

His hand went in my jeans and my panties, his finger hitting the spot.

I gasped.

“You lose,” he murmured in my ear, “admit it.”

This didn’t feel like losing. Nothing like it.

I didn’t reply.

His finger twitched and I replied to that but involuntarily when the mew slid out of my throat.

His lips went to the skin below my ear and he whispered, “Give it to me.”

I had no idea what he was referring to, my admission that he was stronger than me (which, seriously, was obvious before we even started) or something else.

I gave him the something else.

I lifted my ass, pressing it into his groin.

His teeth nipped the skin under my ear.

Fire shot through me.

Thus commenced me learning something new about my childhood crush, good guy, excellent father, responsible citizen, courageous cop Mike Haines.

He could get dirty.

I knew this not because he ground his crotch into my ass as I pressed my ass into his groin. I knew this not because he did all this with his finger making magic between my legs at the same time his mouth and tongue were doing wild and wonderful things at the skin of my neck.

I knew this when I got seriously hot and bothered and his hand disappeared from between my legs. I made a noise of protest, twisted my neck to look at him to see his eyes sexy dark, staring down at me and to feel him plant a hand in my back.

Then he ordered, “Do not fuckin’ move unless I move you.”

Oh God, that was hotter than hot.

So hot, I couldn’t speak. So I nodded.

His hands went to my sweater, yanked it up roughly, my arms were forced up with it then it was gone. Then I felt my bra strap release, one shoulder strap was dragged down my arm, then at the other strap it was yanked away. Then with a forceful tug, my jeans were gone. Ditto my panties and suddenly I was naked on my belly in Mike’s admittedly gorgeous, scarily expensive and huge sleigh bed.

The bed moved with him as he did something that, by the sounds of it was him taking off his clothes and, swear to God, everything that led us there, Mike’s command and listening to him get naked almost took me near the edge.

I careened closer when I heard his voice growl, “Open your legs and tip your ass, Dusty.”

I didn’t delay. Not a second.

Then I felt him cover me. On a forearm in the bed on one side of me, his other hand shoving under me and honing in right on the target, his finger hit my clit as his cock drove inside me.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, tipping my ass higher.

“That’s my girl,” he grunted and then commenced fucking me and doing it really, really hard.

I pretty much thought everything about Mike was awesome but this new side to Mike was beyond awesome. I didn’t even know what that was and I was too turned on to try to figure it out.

“Harder, baby,” I begged and he gave it to me, both driving deeper, faster and pressing harder, rolling quicker. My neck arched back and more mews slid out my throat.

God, beautiful. Phenomenal.

I heard my cell on the nightstand ring.

Shit! No! Why? Why, why, why, why, why?

“Don’t stop,” I pleaded. “I don’t care who it is.”

But I knew Mike looked. I knew this because that was when I learned another new, unbelievably fantastic something about Mike.

And this was that Mike was a good guy, an excellent father, a responsible citizen who could fuck me hard, controlling and dirty but he was also macho and possessive and when he got angry, seriously angry, it was hot.

And I learned this when he growled, “You are fuckin’ shittin’ me.”

“Mike, ignore it.”

But he didn’t. He ignored me. His hand went from between my legs and he stayed inside me even as he reached a long arm to the nightstand. I heard the weird electronic click of him sliding his thumb on my screen to take the call and then to my shock and, I had to admit, with what he said, extreme titillation, he started speaking.

“You got me and you gotta know you got me when I’m buried deep in Dusty, fuckin’ her hard, she’s facedown in bed, lovin’ every stroke and I know this because she’s purrin’ for me like a cat. And when I make her come, she’s gonna say my name. So with that, you also gotta know you are done. If you don’t get this, Rivera’s out and it’ll be me who explains it to you in a way you’ll finally fuckin’ understand.”

Then I heard the beep of the call being disconnected, the soft thump of my phone hitting the bed somewhere and then Mike’s hand was back at me, his hips were thrusting into me but his lips were at my ear.

“You come, you say my fuckin’ name.” He was still growling and he was still pissed.

I liked both. A whole lot.

“Yes, honey,” I panted.

Then, five minutes later, I did as ordered, my neck arched way back, Mike’s face shoved in the side, it came out as a whisper.

Then he was no longer inside me and I was no longer on my belly. I was on my back, Mike’s hands behind my knees shoving them up and his mouth on mine ordering, “Keep them high.”

“Okay, baby,” I agreed, still feeling the burn he gave me.

Then he pushed his hands under my shoulders and up so his fingers were in my hair his palms at the base of my neck and he kept fucking me as he kissed me.

Five minutes later he came too, whispering my name against my lips.

It was glorious.

He stayed buried but moved his face into my neck and his lips worked there.

That felt nice.

We didn’t move, didn’t lose the connection and didn’t speak for long moments until Mike slid out and then did something new. Something he’d never done or any lover. Something amazing. Something I loved.

He gathered me in his arms and exited the bed taking me with him. Then he carried me to the bathroom and when we got to the sink, he gently dropped my legs but kept his other arm around me, holding me close and strong as my still trembling legs settled. He turned on the faucet, reached for a washcloth and threw it in the sink, all this never letting go of me.

My head tipped back, his tipped down and we held each other’s eyes.

We’d had the conversation at dinner. He knew I was on birth control. He knew I’d had no lovers but him since Beau. I knew he had no lovers but me for two months prior to me. So we decided to dispense with the condoms.

And with what he did next, I was more glad than the glad I already was that we did.

Mike turned off the faucet and then, his eyes still holding mine, he grabbed the cloth, squeezed out the water and, gently, he pressed it between my legs to clean me.

My lips parted and his eyes dropped to them and darkened. There was a care to this, an intimacy I’d never experienced. I was an independent woman, on my own for a long time and I didn’t mind that. Not at all. But I found I liked him taking care of me. I liked it that he didn’t want to be away from me even long enough for me to go clean up. I liked his gentle touch.

I liked it all.

He tossed the cloth back into the sink, bent, lifted me into his arms and carried me back to the room. Down went my legs again when we made it to his dresser. He opened a drawer, yanked out a tee then he pulled it over my head. I shoved my arms through and tugged it down as he opened another drawer and pulled out a pair of plaid, flannel pajama bottoms. He tugged them up and then I was again in his arms, he walked us back to the bed, sat on its side with me in his lap then stretched out, arranging me on top of him.

We ended up, legs tangled, Mike pulling my tee up, one of his hands on my ass, the other one wrapped tight around my back and he ordered, “Now, kiss me, honey.”

I decided to kiss him. I did this because I wanted to. I also did it so I wouldn’t start crying at experiencing all the beauty Mike Haines just gave me.

When I was done, I pressed my face into his neck and relaxed into him.

Mike’s fingers moved light on the skin of my ass.

I sighed.

Then I teased, “Is that official protocol for dealing with a stalker? Saying macho, badass, possessive alpha male shit that would piss him off and send him over the edge?”

Mike’s hand at my ass stopped drifting. His fingers cupped it firmly, possessively and he replied, “No. I didn’t take that call as a cop. I took that call as a man who was fucking my woman for the first time in my goddamned bed and I did not like some other man who will not clue in he cannot lay claim to what’s mine callin’ while I was doin’ it. So I didn’t think like a cop. I thought like a man who was pissed off an asshole was calling while I was pleasurably engaged in makin’ my woman purr for me.”

My belly pitched and it felt nice.

I lifted my head and looked down at him.

I knew he wasn’t experiencing any belly pitches because he did not look happy.

So I asked cautiously, “I take it that was Beau.”

“Yeah,” he clipped, his eyes holding mine. “That was Beau.”

I pressed my lips together. Fucking Beau.

“You hear from him since the last incident?” Mike asked.

“No,” I answered.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his eyes moving to the ceiling. “He gave it time, let you cool down, thinks he could make another approach.”

I figured this was true. Though I had no clue how he got my new number.

Mike went on, still muttering, “Not gettin’ the message.”

I figured this was true too.

“Luckily, I’m a thousand miles away,” I reminded him and his eyes came back to me. “And living next door to my badass, alpha male cop boyfriend and in a house with two teenage boys who love their Auntie Dusty, know where their Dad’s shotguns are and aren’t afraid to use them.”

The anger slid from his eyes, his lips twitched and he kept muttering when he said, “Yeah.”

I decided I didn’t want to talk about Beau so I dipped my face closer to his and whispered, “That was hot honey.”

His hand at my ass and arm around me gave me a squeeze.

“Yeah.”

“Like, mega-hot,” I went on.

He grinned.

Not done, I informed him, “Like, mega, off the charts, I’ve never come so hard, hot.”

He started chuckling.

“You’re a bad boy under all that good,” I observed.

“Nothin’ bad about it. You came harder than you ever climaxed, seems to me, that’s all good,” Mike replied logically and he was not wrong.

“You got more where that came from?” I asked.

He grinned.

Then he answered, “You liked that, you got a lot to look forward to.”

Great freaking news.

I grinned back.

He lifted his head and kissed me softly.

When he was done, I repositioned so my cheek was resting on his shoulder and his fingers resumed drawing on the skin of my booty.

I relaxed deeper into him and reflected on the week.

It was Friday night after Clarisse’s birthday party. That week I’d had lunch with Mike twice at Frank’s, met him for a quick cup of coffee once at Mimi’s and I’d come over on Wednesday night to have dinner with Mike and his kids.

Or, I should say, Mike came to get me even though I could walk to his house. But he did this because we ate with his kids then his kids camped out in front of the TV with us so we had no alone time.

The good news about this was that clearly No and Rees liked me. Rees was emerging even more out of her shell and responding to my attempts to bond with her.

The bad news was we had no alone time except when Mike took me back to the farmhouse and we made out in his car. We did this heatedly but not long enough for me. This was mostly because neither of us wanted two impressionable teenage boys to see their aunt and a local cop going at it hot and heavy in the lane.

So I said my good-byes and walked up to the house wishing for the first time that I wasn’t going to sleep alone. I had no problem sleeping alone and didn’t mind doing it. That wasn’t to say I didn’t like company in my bed and, if they didn’t snore, I liked it regularly. I was not a slut, I chose my partners carefully (I thought at the time until I was proven wrong) but I was willing to endure long, dry spells. Which I did.

But I didn’t like to be separated from Mike. I’d had only one night sleeping in his arms and I did that. Slept in his arms. That wasn’t something I normally found comfortable.

With Mike, it came naturally.

It had been gone a long time. I wanted it back.

Mike was taking it slow and steady and I understood he did this out of necessity. He didn’t want his new girlfriend up in his kid’s faces twenty-four, seven. I got that.

It just sucked.

But also, Mike was busy. Unfortunately, Mike informed me, The ‘Burg was experiencing a crime wave. And considering, strangely with the current economy there was growth still happening all around so there were more people paying taxes, the Department had recently gone through cutbacks. Luckily (kind of), some time ago a dirty cop was weeded out and when he was fired after being arrested (which happened after he was shot, nasty business, shockingly nasty as explained by Mike), they didn’t replace him. When another detective moved to the IMPD and a patrolman passed his detective test and also moved to the city, they hadn’t replaced them either. They then decided to find other ways to reduce spending that didn’t include further loss of personnel.

This was good and bad. Mike told me with his seniority, his job wasn’t threatened. But The ‘Burg was growing, crime increasing and the cops were tasked to look after their citizens but having to do it with less manpower and fewer resources.

This, Mike explained, was a recipe for disaster.

The first part of the crime wave was what Mike described as “piddly shit”. Likely one kid or a few of them, graffiti and some vandalism. It was constant though random and because of the last and the fact that other work took priority, it had been happening awhile without the kids being caught. For the owners of the property vandalized, they didn’t care the cops had limited resources, personnel and other priorities. They just wanted it stopped. Alec Colton and Pat Sullivan bought that case.

The second part was a rash of break-ins, the same MO happening throughout Hendricks County, where The ‘Burg resided, and the west side of Marion County which butted our county.

This was who Mike thought IMPD caught, who they interrogated on and off for four hours last Saturday and who turned out not to be the culprit.

A disappointment.

Mike and his partner Merry, obviously, were working that case.

And last, Mike explained, there had been an influx of narcotics that had hit The ‘Burg. Drugs were not unusual but supply was escalating.

All the detectives were working this one and had been now for eighteen months. They’d located and brought down two new dealers that moved to town and targeted vulnerable populations, young adults who’d not gone off to college and stuck in town and high school students.

The ‘Burg had a diverse population. Although the farm families were retreating, it still had its working class. It also had its lower to low-middle income sections. The same with mid- to upper-middle incomes. And with The Heritage and other high end developments, as well as The ‘Burg’s traditional elite of wealthy families who worked in Indy but settled generations ago in a quaint farm town close to work but away from the city, this meant there was definitely an upper class.

The kids of these families and young adults, who suddenly had incomes and responsibilities but didn’t yet know how manage them, were who was targeted.

When they’d find a dealer and take him down, a new one would take his place and the drugs kept coming. So they’d switched strategies, identifying the dealer, controlling the sales but at the buyer, not at the source and hoping this would lead to the mastermind.

Unfortunately, this was also not working. The mastermind had lost two of his soldiers. They were being more careful. And although the drugs were just as prevalent regardless of the police presence, how the kids were getting them was harder to nail down since the dealers were forced to be creative.

This all meant that even though The ‘Burg was not a thriving metropolis, the cops were far busier than I would have expected.

Including Mike.

As for me, I was in Indiana but I had pottery to sell because I had bills to pay. So I also had to work and, as usual, spent a good deal of time at my wheel.

Intermingled with this, I was trying to sort Rhonda out.

This just wasn’t working.

I’d sat down with her twice to talk to her about the boys, her future, the farm. But even as I spoke to her at the kitchen table over coffee, her eyes, along with her attention, drifted away.

I didn’t know if this was a defense mechanism against grief, not wanting to think of these things because Darrin used to take care of them or if it was just Rhonda.

Luckily, I was a patient person. Unfortunately, she was giving no indication that even the smallest thing was sinking in. Not only was I working, exploring my relationship with Mike, getting to know his kids, I’d also taken on parenting Fin and Kirb. They didn’t need a lot but they still needed it and at this time in their lives this mostly took the form of someone having a finger on their pulse and looking out for them considering their Dad just died. And I did this by spending time with them, mostly at night in front of the TV. And all of these nights, Rhonda wandered upstairs and stayed in the room she shared with my brother, leaving me and her boys be.

Rhonda fed them and, as a matter of course, took care of the house. But other than that, she was checked out and I got the impression she took the opportunity of my being there to check out further.

And with all that, I’d just hit what I’d been looking forward to as the highlight of my week. Mike told me the kids went from school on alternate Fridays to their Mom’s and didn’t return until Sunday at seven. He had the weekend off.

This meant Mike time.

And Mike had decreed we were going out on a date. This meant he picked me up at the farmhouse at five thirty, we had dinner out, we then had drinks at J&J’s. Then he took me to his house where, after a tour of it he didn’t need to give me that ended with his huge bedroom, I threw down the challenge, jumped him and we commenced wrestling.

Definitely the highlight of my day including having the time with just Mike to check out his house, something I hadn’t had the time to do with any concentration.

Outside, it didn’t look as big as it was. Inside, it was very spacious. Although he was right, the development was cookie-cutter, that didn’t mean it didn’t have personality. I knew from my visits home it had been around a while and thus people had the time to personalize their space, trees had grown taller, filled out. The complex had settled and it wasn’t there yet but it was becoming less of a development, more of a neighborhood. But inside, it was more. Mike was a bachelor who had restarted his life with two kids and he did it like he did everything. Thoughtfully.

His house wasn’t a pad. There were framed pictures of family around. The kids. Grandparents. Mike’s aunts, uncles and cousins. The furniture was comfortable and attractive. There were touches that were admittedly masculine, like prints on the wall and his crockery but they were there. There was a vast selection of DVDs and the kids’ rooms were full of stuff. All this made it not at all just a roof over their heads but a home.

I liked this. I liked that Mike was capable of providing it. I liked that Mike gave it to his kids. And, deep down amidst the hope that was budding in me, I liked the idea that this was part of my future.

I’d never lived in a cookie cutter development. After my angst in high school, I’d spent so much time reflecting on what I would do when I was free, when I was I didn’t dilly-dally doing it. I lived in a couple of places but found a home quickly. Then set about with no small amount of determination making my place in the world where I wanted to be. I found success, settled in and loved it.

But, as crazy as it sounded, I could see me in that huge bed in that huge room in that cookie-cutter development with Mike, his kids and his dog.

Definitely.

“I bought this house because of you.”

I blinked at Mike’s chest and lifted my head to look down at him.

His eyes tipped to me.

“What?” I whispered.

“Didn’t get it until just now, you in my tee, in my bed, my hand on your ass. Never thought that would happen. Never expected it to. Never actually thought I’d see you again, which, I have to admit, honey, all these years, I found upsetting. But I looked at a fuckload of houses when I was trying to find a place for me, No and Reesee that would feel like home. I didn’t like this one. I did like the view of your farm off my balcony. That made this one, unlike any of the others, feel more like home. And the reason it did was because seein’ that farm reminded me of you and that felt like home.”

I didn’t know what to do with that, not hearing it, not him being open enough to tell me.

Except to love every word.

“Mike –” I whispered but got no further.

Mike kept talking. “The kids settled in fast. They never complained. What they had with me was better than what their Mom gave them but I knew it wasn’t that. They were lookin’ out for their Dad. They didn’t want to say shit or do shit that would make me feel shit. But still, the house we had was a home. This didn’t feel that way to me and I figure it didn’t feel that way to them. Not until last Saturday with music, kids, decorations, plastic bowls of food and a huge-ass, homemade cake. Reesee smilin’ and happy. No entertainin’ his crew. It finally felt like home.”

God, sometimes he just killed me. But when he did it, he did it in a way I liked.

“Shut up,” I whispered.

Mike stared at me, his eyes warm and gentle and that killed me too, in a way I liked.

Then he shut up, at least about that.

“I owe you for the party shit you bought. You need to give me the receipts.”

“Shut up,” I said louder and his hand curled firm on my ass again.

“Dusty. You need to give me the receipts.”

“Is this macho, I can talk until I’m blue in the face telling you it was my pleasure to give that to Rees so I want to pay for it and you still won’t agree Mike?”

He grinned, his hand relaxed and he answered, “Exactly.”

“Whatever,” I muttered. “I’ll give you the receipts.”

“Thanks, honey,” he muttered back then continued. “By the way, you didn’t bring a bag but you’re spendin’ the night.”

I so was.

Still, I felt compelled to point out, “Seriously, you’re bossy.”

He didn’t reply, just kept grinning.

“Were you this bossy with Debbie?” I asked.

“Sweetheart, you know no one can be bossy with Debbie because she’s so fuckin’ bossy. It was unrelenting. I could try to boss, I just couldn’t wedge one in.”

“So I have hope,” I muttered. “I just have to do it unrelenting.”

“Just a reminder, Dusty, Debbie lasted a while because I was a teenager with a small pond to choose from and she gave it to me regularly. When my field opened, Debbie was gone.”

I burst out laughing, shoving my face in his neck and feeling his hold tighten on me.

I loved this. I loved the comfort of it. That we could talk about stuff openly. That stuff that could feel weird or come between others didn’t between us. We got it. It was history.

This was now.

This was us.

We could talk about anything.

I lifted my head and looked at him to see him smiling at me.

Yes, this was us.

“The boys are clearing snow,” I announced.

Mike blinked.

“Pardon?”

“Darrin had contracts –”

I knew he knew exactly what I was talking about when he cut me off.

“You’re shittin’ me. They’re doin’ that?”

I nodded. “Both Fin and Kirby.”

Mike’s focus went out and I knew he was harking back, counting snowfalls when he muttered, “Three times.”

“Yep,” I confirmed and his focus came back on me.

“Rhonda allowed it?”

I nodded.

He murmured, “Fuck.”

“So, as a Dad, you think that’s wrong?”

“Uh…yeah. Kirby doesn’t even have his driver’s license. I knew Fin helped Darrin out and knowing Darrin, he wouldn’t have allowed that unless it was covered in the contracts or Fin was protected by Darrin’s insurance. So I don’t know what the contracts say but I doubt whatever insurance is provided includes the work being done by a non-licensed minor like Kirby. If he got hurt…” Mike trailed off.

“I didn’t like it either,” I agreed. “But I didn’t say anything when Rhonda told me because she’s their Mom and I didn’t know how she and Darrin played stuff like that with the boys.”

“If I’m right, he covers three developments. If Kirb could be on a tractor with a blade, Darrin would have had Kirb’s ass on a tractor with a blade. Did Fin recruit him?”

I nodded.

“Takin’ care of his family,” Mike muttered correctly.

“Yep,” I repeated.

“Fuck,” Mike repeated.

“Yep,” I repeated again. Then I took in a deep breath and shared, “Rhonda’s checked out.”

Mike’s arms got tight and his eyes looked deep into mine when he whispered, “I’m gettin’ that.”

I pressed deeper into him and whispered back, “Totally, Mike.”

He held my eyes then replied, “She’s gotta snap out of it, Dusty.”

“You know Rhonda,” I reminded him.

“I do. But shit happens and you gotta step up. We got the Debbie situation under control but both you and I know she’s in DC plotting. She’ll make her next move and she’ll do it soon.”

He was not wrong about that.

I did a face plant in his neck.

Mike’s hands gave me a squeeze. “Angel, look at me.”

I lifted my head.

“It’s time to talk to your Dad,” he said softly and my heart squeezed.

“He’s worked hard all his life, Mike. So has Mom. They love it down in Florida. He fishes. Mom spends hours in the kitchen making food out of gourmet food magazines she never had the time to make when she was a farmer’s wife. Dad spends time pretending he likes to eat it when really he just wants a fried tenderloin sandwich. They’re enjoying the good life.”

“Explain again why Darrin left the farm to all four of you,” Mike demanded to know something I’d told him the night we reconciled. Something he muttered then that he thought was “jacked” and something he clearly thought was still jacked now. Then again, Darrin loved Debbie. Mike didn’t.

“Because he loved his sisters,” I told him. “He knew Debbie but he always saw the good in people, even Debbie. And he knew Rhonda. So, if anyone would have Finley and Kirby’s backs with the farm, keeping it whole and safe for them to take over, he knew he couldn’t trust Rhonda to do it. But he could trust Debbie and me. Or he thought he could. He was wrong.”

“Your Dad would lose his mind if he thought Debbie was pushing to sell the farm to developers,” Mike noted, again correctly.

“Yes,” I agreed unnecessarily.

“So you need his firepower at your back.”

I sighed.

Mike kept talking. “Right, honey, as you know, I’m a Dad and that’s a lifetime job. He knows that too. I get that you want to sort this shit and let them have their retirement. But life happens. They get that. Their son died unexpectedly and they are not down in Florida living the high life. They’re down there worried about Rhonda checkin’ out and those boys bein’ looked after. If they knew about Debbie, they’d lose it, at least your Dad would. He’d want to know. And I know he doesn’t know because if he did, his ass would be up here or he’d be on the phone to DC tellin’ his girl to stand down. You need to call in reinforcements, at least with Debbie.”

He was right so I sighed again then nodded.

Then I asked, “What about Rhonda? I told you I talked to her twice and she drifted away. I think she’s replacing Darrin with me. And Fin, well, he loves his Mom, I know it. And I also know he’s relieved to have me around, you demonstrating you’re going to wade in with Debbie. But he’s losing it with her, Mike. He’s not being ugly but I know he’s worried, feeling pressure and getting impatient with her because of it. I don’t know if she’s paying bills, if she knows how to handle the accounts, what their money situation is. But the corn has to go in and it doesn’t just plant itself. Fin knows all this too.”

“Her folks?” Mike suggested.

“There’s a reason Rhonda is the way she is, honey,” I said softly. “Her Dad isn’t a bad man, or at least not totally. But Darrin told me he was a perfectionist, impatient. He came down on Rhonda hard when she was a kid. Darrin thought she was naturally shy, a little flighty, definitely sensitive but that gig with her Dad dug all this in deep. Her Mom is a hoverer and enabler. Mom told me while they were around after Darrin died, Rhonda’s Dad was impatient with her, her Mom was running in to do everything so Rhonda wouldn’t have to do it. I don’t think they’ll help.”

“She got any close girlfriends?”

I shook my head. “You know she’s shy. In fact, I still find it a miracle Darrin got in there. She has a friend. They’ve been besties since high school. But she moved to Missouri at least a decade ago.”

Mike stared up at me then his face changed in a way that made me brace right before he rolled me to my back with him on me.

His hand sliding up my body, it ended curled around my jaw as his face got close.

I would understand the intensity in his dark brown eyes and the change in circumstances when he asked, “How long you plannin’ to stay, darlin’?”

My body melted under his, I circled him with my arms and answered, “I planned to stay at least until the crop was in and I had a sense it was good.”

“June, July,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” I muttered back.

He smiled. Big.

“June, July,” he repeated.

I smiled back. Big.

“Yeah.”

We kept smiling at each other like lovestruck idiots, we did this for a while and I loved every second of it.

Then, unfortunately, Mike ended it but, fortunately, he ended it with a plan.

“Right, you got time. No doubt about it, Fin’s up. It’s a year or two earlier than any kid should have to shoulder that responsibility but you know what you’re doin’ and you got your Dad on the line if you need him. Give him his head, take his back. This is about the farm, not the snow removal. With that, I’ll make a few calls, see who I can get to work with Fin if it snows again before spring comes. Yeah?”

I nodded.

“Rhonda, keep at her. Just keep talking to her. Do it steady, do it firm. Watch and take a read as you’re talkin’. You’ll know, she doesn’t snap out of it, when the time will be to shake her up a bit.”

I nodded again.

“In the meantime, until I feel it’s cool to introduce you to the mix of bodies sleepin’ under this roof when my kids are in their beds, every other Friday night to Sunday morning, you plan to sleep in this bed with me.”

I nodded again this time smiling.

“That a plan?” he asked.

“It’s a plan,” I whispered.

“As it goes, there’s shit you don’t like, anytime, honey, I want you to know you can talk it through with me.”

I figured that already but I loved having it confirmed.

“Thanks, Mike.”

“Anytime, Angel,” he said gently before he dropped his head and touched his mouth to mine.

Then he rolled back, shifting and adjusting so he could yank the covers from under us and we resumed our positions with the sheets up to our waists.

“TV, conversation or making out?” Mike offered me a selection and I lifted my head to look down at him.

“Audrey,” I picked a choice he didn’t offer and I saw the shadow of what appeared to be mild irritation drift through his face. Although I saw it, I knew he wasn’t feeling it about me.

Last Saturday I discovered the bad news about Audrey Haines was that she did not have horns, fangs, acid green eyes or matted hair. She was tall, trim but built and there was a reason her genes mixed with Mike’s made such gorgeous kids. She wasn’t a striking beauty like her daughter and I wasn’t a guy but I still knew she was a woman who a man would look at twice. Her thing definitely wasn’t my thing because her clothes were obviously top-of-the-line, classically fashionable and she wore them well. But, even though Mike was now with me, I hated it, but I could totally see him with her. If I didn’t know what happened behind the scenes, they were definitely a couple that fit. He was gorgeously handsome, she was exceptionally pretty. He wore clothes well and had a confident manner; she wore good clothes stylishly and had a remote bearing that was nonetheless attractive.

The weird news was that she seemed entirely removed from both her kids. At first I thought they were pissed about what she’d done regarding the party. But it wasn’t that. Their relationship with their Dad was obviously close, deep, warm, often-times teasing, definitely parent/child with a constant vibe of loving.

Audrey Haines had none of that with her kids.

And the last news was discomfiting. This being that she watched her kids and Mike nearly throughout the party in a pensive way that made me think she was planning something.

It didn’t help when Mike, who told me he never spoke to her, ended up on the back deck with her. Their conversation was short and clearly, from Mike’s expression upon return, not pleasant. But she’d broken the seal and she’d walked into the party planning to do just that.

I didn’t know her. What I did know was that she and Mike had been divorced for nearly three years, separated for some time before that so I found it not a coincidence that when another woman hit the scene, she instigated contact.

I’d let this slide mainly because we’d not had personal time to discuss it.

Now we needed to discuss it.

Mike didn’t hesitate laying it out.

“She informed me she has a new job, this was what took her away that day and made her fuck up her part of the party. She’s getting better pay and she’s moving to a bigger apartment in Indy.”

I didn’t think any of that was bad.

So I asked, “Isn’t all this good, including her melting the freeze on communication?”

“With Audrey I learned to be suspicious of everything, especially shit that on the surface seems good.”

I rubbed my lips together. Mike watched this for a second before his eyes came back to mine and he continued laying it out. This time, it was bad.

“Suspicious this time would include the fact that she hasn’t spoken to me in I don’t know how long but offered to meet me at her complex and show me her new place.”

There it was, bad.

“Oh boy,” I muttered.

“Yeah,” he replied. “She didn’t say shit. She didn’t act like a bitch. She didn’t pitch a fit. But she also made it clear she understood I was movin’ on with you and it wasn’t her favorite thing.”

“Oh boy,” I repeated on a mutter.

“Angel,” he said on an arm squeeze, “I hope you get I am never, ever goin’ back there.”

I took in a deep breath and nodded.

“She might be gearin’ up to play games but whatever game she thinks she’s gonna play will end up as solitaire,” he assured me.

“Okay,” I replied quietly.

His face shifted, hardening slightly and he went on, “Since we’re talkin’ about pain in the ass exes, you don’t talk to Beau LeBrec. Ever. He calls, you don’t answer. But if he calls, you tell me.”

“Mike –”

He shook his head and his arms gave me a different kind of squeeze. The warning kind.

“No discussion. This is Mike Haines the cop who’s seen a fair few of these kinds of guys and the damage they can wreak if they don’t clue in talking. And it’s the Mike Haines talking who’s your man who does not want his woman who’s got a full plate dealin’ with this kind of guy or enduring the damage he can wreak.”

“If he doesn’t clue in, what are you going to do?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I do know what I’m not gonna do and that is allow him to continue to be a clueless pain in the ass when it comes to you.”

“Maybe I should talk to Hunter,” I muttered.

“No, I’ll be callin’ Rivera.”

I wasn’t sure that was good.

“Mike –” I started but stopped when I got yet another arm squeeze.

“You told your girl about you and me and she told Rivera,” he surmised.

“Uh…yeah,” I confirmed hesitantly.

“Women talk, Dusty, this is not something I’m just learning. And their favorite topic of conversation is dissecting a guy who acted like a dick.”

This was true, he clearly knew it so I decided not to confirm this verbally.

He grinned and it was a relief to see he was entirely unoffended.

Then he stated, “Rivera is not doin’ this for me. He’s doin’ it for you. And he needs to know LeBrec contacted you again. And I need to know what he intends to do about that at his end. He might not like it at first but he’ll get me and then he’ll tell me.”

“Okay, I’ll leave the man communication and cop bonding to the men who also happen to be cops.”

“Good call,” he muttered.

“And I won’t answer if Beau calls.”

“No, you won’t.”

I rolled my eyes. Mike gave me another arm squeeze.

It was time to move on.

“Right, so, I picked what we did last. Your turn.”

His face changed again and it changed in a way I liked a whole lot.

“I got choices?” he asked quietly, his face and an underlying note in his voice that was beyond sexy making “Little Dusty” do a little shiver.

“I’m open to suggestions.”

Mike rolled me, ending on top again but this time with his lips at my ear where he murmured, “You whispered a lot of dirty shit to me over the phone and you seriously got off on what I did earlier. How dirty can my girl be?”

“Little Dusty” didn’t shiver with that. “Little Dusty” did a full on shake.

“I’m willing to explore the boundaries of dirty,” I murmured back.

“Then on your belly, honey, and take off the tee. I’m gonna start with your back.”

He was going to start with my back?

At that, “Little Dusty” rocked the core of me.

“Okay,” I whispered.

Mike moved away.

I did as I was told.

Then we spent a goodly amount of time exploring the boundaries of dirty and through it I discovered that good guy Mike Haines had a multitude of nuances.

And some of them were very, very bad.

So bad, they were awesome.

But in the end, I fell asleep in good guy Mike’s arms, his eyes were to the TV and before we’d settled in, he’d gone to open the door and let in his dog. So not only did I fall asleep in Mike’s arms, I fell asleep in a bed that included a golden retriever.

And before I drifted off to sleep with the television news my lullaby, I remembered exactly how much I liked falling asleep in Mike Haines’s arms.

But it was better in a huge, comfortable, scarily expensive bed with a dog.

Unbelievably better.

I woke when Mike shifted out from under me and Layla jerked to her belly then jumped off the bed.

My eyes fluttered open then started to close before I realized that Mike wasn’t rounding the bed to use the bathroom. From the direction of where Layla’s jingling dog tags were going, he was exiting the room.

My eyes opened to see the dark shadows of sheets. It took a while but in the distance I finally heard Layla’s tags coming back. She hopped on the bed before Mike shifted back under me.

“Getting a drink?” I mumbled sleepily, my body settling into his, my eyes drifting closed, my arm snaking across his gut.

“Walkthrough,” he mumbled back and my eyes drifted back open.

“What?”

“Walkthrough, sweetheart,” he said, his arm curled around my back giving me a squeeze. “Go back to sleep.”

“Walkthrough for what?” I asked the shadowed planes and angles of his chest.

“The house,” he replied.

“For what?” I kind of repeated. “Did you hear something?”

“No.”

“But –”

“Once in a while, I just do it.”

“Why?”

“Because I give a shit about what’s sleepin’ under my roof. So I wake up in the night, scan the feel of my place and if I feel like it, I get up and walk through. It takes a minute, it makes me feel better and I can lie my head down and know the thing I give a shit about that’s sleepin’ under my roof is doing it safely.”

Seriously, he was killing me.

“I’m an independent woman,” I announced to his chest and his arm gave me another squeeze.

“I know, honey.”

“I can take care of myself,” I informed him.

“I know,” he whispered.

“But what you just said, what you did earlier, carrying me around the room, I’ve never had that. And I loved it. Since I’ve never had it, I didn’t know how good it would feel. And it feels good when you take care of me.”

As I spoke, his body went still except his arm went super tight, pressing me deep into his long, warm, hard frame.

I tilted my head back and with my lips to the underside of his jaw, I whispered, “Talking through stuff with me, listening to me, taking care of me, none of that I ever really had. Ever, honey. Not like this. Thank you for giving that to me.”

His chin dipped and his neck twisted so his lips were a breath away from mine, he whispered back, “You’re welcome, Dusty.”

“You should know I feel safe in a lot of ways with you, Mike Haines, and not just sleeping under your roof.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, rolling me, his mouth taking mine in a soft, sweet, middle of the night kiss that said a whole lot without a single word.

I ended up on my back with Mike pressed into me.

“I dicked you around,” he whispered, “and you just gave me that.”

“I forgave you, remember?”

“I dicked you around and you just gave me that,” he repeated.

“Yeah,” I replied softly.

“Thank you, Angel.” He sounded like he meant it. A whole lot.

“You’re welcome, gorgeous.” I knew I meant it the same way.

He touched his mouth to mine then settled but not rolling us back to where we were. He put his head to the pillow, pressed his face into the side of mine and pulled my body deep under his before he tangled his legs with mine.

Layla did some fidgeting then settled with a groan.

“Now, go back to sleep,” Mike ordered.

“All right, Mike.”

“’Night, darlin’.”

“’Night, honey.”

My hand slid down his warm, sleek skin from his lat to his waist.

He tucked me tighter to him.

Yeah, I felt safe. Definitely.

Then I fell asleep.