Games of the Heart

Chapter Seventeen Stealth Kisses

Mike stood leaning against the kitchen counter with his mug of coffee in his hand staring at his kids at the table, No eating breakfast, Rees’s hands moving on her phone and he was wondering how the fuck to say what he had to say.

Shit.

It had been two weeks since Fin’s fight. Two very long weeks.

He had to say it.

Shit.

“Kids, gotta have a word before you get to school,” he announced and No kept shoveling cereal in his face though he did spare Mike a glance before his eyes went back to his cereal.

Reesee had her head bent to her cell, texting Fin no doubt, and she muttered, “Yeah Dad?”

He opened his mouth.

Then he closed it.

Shit.

Fuck it.

“Tomorrow night, you’re goin’ to your Mom’s house. As you know, Dusty and I are adults. What you don’t know is that when you’re at your Mom’s, Dusty stays here with me. But this time, when you get back, Sunday night she’ll be spending the night. And from here on in, we’ll see, but a couple of nights a week she’ll be sleeping over.”

No shoved another spoonful of cereal in his mouth and to his bowl garbled, “She should just move in.”

Mike blinked and he did it slow.

Reesee’s phone binged in her hand and she mumbled, “Yeah, totally.”

No gave Mike his eyes and he informed him of something Mike already knew. “There’s like, a trillion people livin’ in that house and one bathroom.”

Rees looked at her brother. “They have a half bath downstairs,” she corrected.

No looked at his sister. “Yeah, but you can’t shower in a half bath. It would suck huge havin’ to share a shower with, like, a trillion people.”

“Totally,” Rees muttered, her eyes dropping back to her phone, her thumbs flying over the keypad, her ability to multitask coming apparent when she kept talking. “Fin’s like, totally over sharing his room with Kirby. Totally. He hates it.”

“I’m there,” No muttered to his bowl then shoveled more food in but still spoke through it. “I had my own space then wham! I didn’t, that would so suck.”

“And Dusty’s livin’ outta suitcases,” Rees stated then hit a button and looked at her Dad. “That’s gotta be old. It’s been weeks.”

No put his spoon down, picked up the bowl and looked to Mike. “She’s over here practically every night anyway. And your room is huge and you got your own bathroom. That would be a huge step up for Dusty.”

“And you have space in your closet,” Rees added. “When she was teachin’ me how to do my makeup, I saw all her clothes and she has a lot but you have a big closet. You barely use even half of it. They would so fit in there.” Her phone binged, her eyes went to it and she finished, “Though, most of them were on the floor. She’s kinda messy.”

Mike felt his lips twitch.

No was engaged in drinking the milk from his bowl and once he accomplished this, he looked back at his Dad and he smiled a slow, lazy smile. “She’s around, she’s on the rota and I only have to vacuum and dust every fourth week instead of every third.”

“That would rock,” Rees muttered, her thumbs moving over the keypad again. “Though, she doesn’t seem to be real hip on cleanin’.”

Mike felt his lips twitch again.

No got up with his bowl and spoon to take them to the sink, pointing out, “And it would be totally lame, her gettin’ an apartment somewhere when the farm is right next door. They already started working the fields. If she has to help with the plantin’ or she needs to do her pottery, she can just walk right over there if she lives here. She doesn’t have to drive from wherever.”

“And she finds someplace,” Rees added, “she moves there then when you guys get solid she only has to move back here.”

When they get solid?

Jesus.

No rinsed his bowl while muttering, “Jacked, total waste of time.”

“And money,” Rees stated and her phone binged again.

“Crap!” No exclaimed, opening the door on the dishwasher and shoving his bowl in. “I forgot my chemistry book.”

Rees was up and grabbing her book bag off the back of her chair. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

No shoved the dishwasher closed and replied, “Cool.” Then he hustled to the door saying, “Later, Dad.”

Rees came to Mike and got up on her toes to kiss his cheek, phone still in both hands, attention mostly on it, mouth muttering, “See you tonight, Daddy.”

She kissed his cheek and wandered out, thumbs going over the keypad.

Mike stood where he stood exactly as he stood for the last five minutes, silent, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug in his hand, eyes aimed at the kitchen table. He did this for a while. Long enough to hear Rees open the door to the garage. Long enough to hear No run up the stairs then down them. Long enough to hear No shout, “Outta here, Dad!” Long enough for No to be out of there and Mike to hear the garage door go up and No’s beat up, piece of shit car backing out, the garage door going down and the kids driving away.

His first thought was it was time to trade No’s car up. He’d been responsible. No tickets. No accidents. That thing was going on a wing and a prayer. How Mike would find the money for that and Reesee’s school, he had no clue. But it was time.

On his second thought, he burst out laughing.

Then he took a sip of his coffee as he pulled his phone out, scrolled to Dusty and hit go.

She answered on ring two.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

“Had the talk with the kids.”

Silence then, “Oh shit, really?”

She knew what he was saying. He’d told her last night he was going to do it.

“Yeah.”

More silence then, “Uh…you gonna clue me in or are you gonna make me have a nervous breakdown?”

“How do you feel about moving in?”

This got him a whispered, “What?”

It was a good whisper. A happy whisper. And Mike liked it a fuckuva lot.

“No’s idea,” Mike shared. “He’s concerned about the bathroom situation at the Holliday farm. Clarisse is worried about you living out of a suitcase.”

This bought him more silence then he heard her sweet, musical laughter.

When it started dying down, Mike gave it to her.

“Try-outs,” he said softly. “The kids did not blink when I mentioned you spending the night and like I said, you moving in was their idea. Still, it’s a big change for you, me and them. You move in this weekend, we try it out. Keep our finger on the pulse of where everyone is. We need to step back, we’ll reconsider and deal. You in?”

“My freshman year, Debbie forced me to try out for the volleyball team. She said I needed focus and the discipline of athletics. I totally failed. I was ousted in the first cut.”

Mike said nothing.

“Bet I’ll be better at this,” she said softly.

Mike had no doubt.

“So you’re in,” he said softly back.

“Abso-freaking-lutely,” she replied.

“Pack your bags, Angel, this shit goes down tomorrow night,” Mike ordered.

“I’m all over it, honey.”

Mike smiled. It was a happy smile. And it felt fucking great.

“Mike?” Dusty called.

“Still here,” Mike told her.

“I love your kids,” she whispered.

Mike closed his eyes. No smile. But what he was feeling was still fucking happy.

He opened his eyes. “Good,” he whispered back. Then, “I gotta hit the road.”

“I gotta start packing.”

His smile came back.

“Later, darlin’.”

“Later, honey.”

Mike hit the button on his phone.

Then he walked to hall, gave his dog one last rubdown then he hit the garage still smiling.

I had my purse and a carryon over my shoulder, one of my smaller suitcases in my hand. Mike was following me with two of my big suitcases. Layla was dashing between the both of us, panting, clearly ecstatic. She was either happy because she was a dog and life in general was just plain good or she understood the concept of suitcases and she liked company. Whatever, she was excited so I was glad she was right there with me.

I barely started packing yesterday before Kirby started moving back into his room. He’d called his good-bye fifteen minutes ago from his bedroom.

When I left, Fin, who helped Mike, Dad and me with my suitcases and boxes, was standing in the foyer of our house grinning at me, his face knowing.

Mom and Dad were exchanging glances wishing I was twenty years younger so they could lecture me on moving in with a man out of wedlock because they knew at my age they absolutely could not.

Rhonda was biting her lip and giving me looks. I had no idea what this meant but then again, all the time I’d spent with her in my life and especially recently, I had no idea how Rhonda’s head worked.

Mike had shared with the kids when they got home last night this was happening. That meant today I received fourteen (yes, fourteen) excited texts from Rees about how she was happy another girl was moving in. Then about how we could share makeup. Then she asked if she could borrow my clothes. Then she asked if we were going to bake another cake because she wanted to make one for Fin. And this went on.

I got one text from No that said, “Yo. Cool. Moving in. See u Sun. Ur on schedule. U vac and dust this wk. L8r.”

So clearly Mike hadn’t lied. They were cool with it. Rees got a new wardrobe and No got another week of being lazy before he had to do chores.

Both worked for me.

I hit the room and dumped my carryon on the bed and my bag beside it. Mike dumped my bags on the floor next to the one I’d dropped. Then he tagged my neck, pulled me to him and brushed his mouth against mine.

When he lifted away he muttered, “Haulin’ for you is done. You settle in. Cleared some drawers and shifted stuff in the closet. You’re good to go. I’ll go get your other bags and take your boxes down to the basement. Then we’ll order Shanghai Salon. I’ll grab the menu.”

Then he let me go and walked out of the room.

I watched him do it, liking the way he moved. His body was long and lean, his limbs loose. Even when he was younger, I liked the way Mike moved. There was a confidence to it, an easiness. I used to love to watch him play basketball, I never missed one of his games. I even begged and pleaded with my Dad to take me to away games just so I could watch Mike move.

I drew in breath and looked around the room.

My house in Texas was awesome, the rooms big, the windows huge.

But this room was way bigger, so was the closet and the bathroom off Mike’s room was a woman’s dream. It even had a sunken oval tub. Heaven. The balcony far from sucked and I loved it that I could see my family’s farm from there. It was like I was still home but without the hassle of living with five other people sharing one bathroom. I had a closet which I hadn’t had even in the guest room since Rhonda had a bunch of stuff packed in there. I got a room that smelled like Mike’s aftershave. And I got to sleep in a big, six thousand dollar bed with Mike.

My eyes glided through the room, taking it in. Layla had followed her Dad so I was alone. I had a moment to savor it, so I took it.

Then my eyes hit on them and I froze.

On the nightstand next to what was my side of the bed when I was with Mike there was a bouquet of roses. The deepest, richest red mixed with the deepest richest peach. The peach was a peach so deep I’d never seen anything like it. The bouquet was huge. There had to be a dozen of each. Long-stemmed but the blooms had been arranged close in a vivid, velvety dome.

Woodenly, my eyes never leaving them, I walked toward them because out of the blooms stuck a white card. And on the outside of the card it said, Dusty.

I lifted my hand and grabbed the card. The paper of the envelope was expensive, thick. I flipped it open and pulled out the card inside. No picture. Nothing. It was just white and had a line embossed around the edges.

In Mike’s scrawl in black ink it said, Welcome home, Angel.

I stared at the black scrawl then I heard Layla’s dog tags jingling and I knew Mike was coming back. So I lifted my head and aimed my eyes at the double doors that led to his room.

He walked in carrying two more suitcases.

I stood there. Still. Frozen. Looking at the most handsome man I’d ever seen in my life. The man I fell in love with when he was still mostly a boy. The man who raised two great kids against the odds. The man who kept the streets of my hometown safe. The only man outside my brother and father who even tried to take care of me, he did it in a way that was beautiful, precious, so I let him.

The man who made me happy.

The man who was happy being with me.

Mike’s eyes came to me, they dropped to the card in my hand but he didn’t miss a step and took the new bags next to the ones he’d already brought up. Then he dropped them to the floor.

Then he held my eyes and noted, “You aren’t unpacking.”

“I love you,” I whispered.

His face went soft and God, God, he was so fucking beautiful.

“I’m a guy,” he stated bizarrely then went on equally bizarrely, “I don’t live and breathe clean. But I prefer it. Have I just bought myself a life of pickin’ my way through your jeans, tees, belts, bras and panties to get to the bathroom?”

“I love you,” I whispered.

He smiled a beautiful smile.

Then he muttered, “I’m takin’ it that means yes.”

He didn’t sound the least bit peeved.

God, God, I loved him.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“You don’t do your week of vacuuming and dusting, No’s gonna freak.”

“I love you,” I repeated.

“And if his ass isn’t in front of the TV, he’s about music. Either he has it on or he’s playin’ it. Luckily, he’s good. Unfortunately, it’s constant. If you don’t like music, you’ll have to find a way to like it.”

“I love you.”

“And if Reesee isn’t with Fin, she’s on the phone with him or texting him. So you’ll have to get used to having half her attention at all times, including when Fin is here.”

“I love you.”

“My hours are erratic, honey. My job isn’t nine to five. I know bein’ with me for a while, you’ve experienced that but livin’ here, you’ll be livin’ it. You’ll need to get used to that too.”

“I love you.”

“You get Layla’s friendly. What you don’t get but will, and that’ll be constant too, is Layla’s friendly. She’s entirely unable to be on her own. She gets that when we’re all gone and she doesn’t like it. She makes sure we know it when we get home. I don’t want her to beg ever but especially when people are eating. The kids never got this concept so they’re always givin’ her shit. So she begs. I’ve given up. You’re free to eat what you want or share with the dog. I’ll leave that up to you.”

“I love you.”

Mike held my eyes.

Then he whispered, “I know.”

“I’m not gonna cry,” I told him softly.

“Don’t,” he told me softly back.

“I’m gonna unpack,” I decided.

“Good,” he replied.

“Then we’re gonna eat Chinese,” I informed him of something that was his decision in the first place.

“Yeah, we are.”

“Then we’re gonna break in the bathtub.”

His eyes flashed and he repeated in a growly voice that shot straight through to “Little Dusty”, “Yeah, we are.”

I smiled at him.

Then I put the card on the nightstand knowing as soon as I had a moment, I was going to find a place to keep it so it would be safe. Forever.

Then I reached out, tagged my carryon and dragged it across the bed to me.

“Dusty?” I heard Mike call and I looked to the doors to see him and Layla there, Layla panting, ready for their trip back down the stairs to Mike’s SUV.

“Yeah, honey?” I asked.

“I love you too,” he whispered then he turned and walked down the hall.

I deep breathed. Then I did it some more.

Then, when I had my shit together, I zipped open the carryon and started to unpack.

“Shit, fuck, Jesus,” Mike muttered about a half a second after we entered J&J’s Saloon.

I looked at him, confused.

He’d been in a good mood. It was Saturday night. My bags were unpacked. I hadn’t yet tossed any clothes on the floor. We’d had Chinese the night before. We’d broken in the tub. It totally serviced two full grown adults and it did it splendidly. I performed my “I’m glad I’m living with you” by waking Mike up that morning super early with my mouth wrapped around his cock. He liked it, maybe better than I liked the roses (but just barely). As was his way, he took over. I liked that better even than the roses (but just barely). Then I’d dragged his ass to Hilligoss and made him let me buy. This took a while and the line behind us got a little irked. Mike gave in when I dug in to the point some guy called out, “Seriously? I can smell ‘em. This is torture.” We ate donuts at his kitchen table (not including the one I snarfed in the car). We went to the grocery store. We came home and put the groceries away together. We had lunch together. We had more sex. We made dinner together. We ate it together.

And now we were at J&J’s.

Life was good. His kids wanted me in his house and he did too. I was in his house. Dad was around, helping me, Fin and Kirb to prepare the fields for planting. Debbie hadn’t pulled anything recently. Beau had not called. Fin hadn’t gotten into any fisticuffs keeping scumbag kids away from his girl who happened to be the most beautiful girl in the world and Mike’s daughter. Mike had not heard from Audrey. And, with IMPD, he’d long since solved the case of the person who was burgling The ‘Burg.

Now he looked unhappy.

“What’s up?” I asked.

Mike put a hand to the small of my back and guided me to the end of the bar closest to the door. It was Saturday night, still relatively early, but the place was busy.

“I’m rethinkin’ this,” he muttered as we got to the bar.

“Why?” I asked.

“That’s why,” he answered, his eyes pointed at something across the room and I looked that way.

There were two female bartenders. One I vaguely recognized as February Owens now Colton. The other was a blonde who was really very pretty but also kind of slutty. Still, she worked it. Neither of them had been there the last time Mike and I had hit J&J’s. That time the bar was worked by Feb’s brother Morrie and a guy Mike introduced me to as Darryl and the floor was worked by a woman named Ruthie.

At the other end of the bar directly opposite us sat Colt, Joe Callahan and a very handsome man that was also somewhat familiar. Standing around them and definitely with them were two other men and four women. One was Rocky so I suspected the handsome guy was her husband Tanner Layne. One was a stunning brunette. The other two had to be Feb’s friends since forever, Jessie now Rourke and Mimi “Meems” now VanderWal. They were all older than me so I didn’t go to school with them (except Rocky who was older than me but only by a year so I knew her back in the day though, her being older, we didn’t hang).

Even though Jessie, Feb and Meems were not in school when I was, I still knew them. Everyone in The ‘Burg knew them. And not just because Feb was the obsession of a sickwad serial killer that got national attention so she did too. But because back then to now with Feb taking a break by wandering the country heartbroken at losing Colt for-freaking-ever they were people that people knew.

This was mostly because all of those bitches, in their way, were fucking crazy.

But my eyes honed on the brunette.

Oh God, that had to be Violet Callahan.

In short order the news Mike and I had arrived rippled through the group. This instigated, I saw, by Jessie. So I saw it when Violet’s eyes came to me.

She was gorgeous.

“What’ll it be, hot guy and hot chick?”

I tore my eyes away from the woman Mike kind of fell in love with before me. Then I looked to see the slutty bartender in front of us. She was grinning at both of us like someone was telling her the most hilarious joke in the world and she really, really wanted to laugh but she didn’t want to miss the end of the joke by laughing.

“Tequila shooter, STAT,” I ordered and her smile got even bigger.

“Fuck,” Mike muttered.

“I’ll take that to mean two,” the woman guessed and Mike looked at her.

“You’d be wrong. I’m drivin’. Bud, bottle.”

“At your service,” she muttered then bent to open a fridge and pull out a Bud doing this while talking, her eyes never leaving me, “I’m Cheryl by the way, also by the way I know who you are.”

She shoved the bottle under the bar and popped off the cap. Then she set it in front of Mike.

I focused on her. “You know me?”

She reached for a bottle on the shelves behind the bar, tagged it with a shot glass then she slammed it down in front of me and started pouring.

And she also started explaining, her eyes locked to mine. “Uh…yeah. Totally. Your brother was known by everyone and everyone liked him,”

She stopped pouring at the exact right time even though her eyes didn’t go to the glass which meant practice and I thought that was pretty cool.

She kept talking, “Sorry for your loss. He came in a couple of times, he was the shit. That totally sucks and I’m not makin’ light ‘a that. It just sucks. And then there are rumblin’s of trouble. That sucks too. I hope that’s sorted out ‘cause death and trouble sucks even more than just death and death is the worst there is so that’s sayin’ somethin’. Then you light into town and nail down the numero uno eligible bachelor in The ‘Burg in, like, a day. Half the bitches in this place are plotting your murder as we speak. This is seein’ as they’ve been plottin’ to become the next Mrs. Haines for about three years and you killed their dreams, I’ll repeat, in a day. So yeah, Dusty, I know you.”

I stared at her. Then I grabbed my shot of tequila. Then I tossed it back.

When I put my empty down to the bar and after I took in a deep breath, I informed her, “I like you. I need a new best friend. I’ve added you to the top of a list that has one name. Yours.”

She threw her slutty blonde, huge head of hair back and roared with laughter this shaking her big, probably fake knockers that were incased in a skintight tank top. This was a show I was pretty certain every man in the room took in except Mike, Colt, Joe Callahan and Tanner Layne mostly because all their women had knockers that rivaled Cheryl’s albeit not encased in a skintight tank.

Cheryl laughed but Mike muttered, “Fuck.”

I looked at him. “What?”

He looked at Cheryl and said, “No offense,” then he looked at me and explained, “She’s a fuckin’ nut.”

“No offense taken,” Cheryl stated generously.

“So am I,” I reminded him.

“She’s a different kind of nut,” Mike clarified.

Cheryl put her forearms on the bar, her eyes on Mike, all ears. “What kind of nut am I?”

Mike looked at her. “The kind I don’t think is cute because I’m not sleepin’ with you.”

Cheryl smiled huge at me.

“He’s a good guy but he can be bad,” I shared, her huge smile got even bigger and she leaned toward me.

“Do tell,” she invited.

“Fuck,” Mike muttered.

“I mean, he can say it straight,” I explained.

“Girl, if I didn’t know that already, I’ve just learned,” she replied.

“This is true,” I mumbled.

“Right, so, now that I know I like you, time to get this over with,” Cheryl announced and before Mike or I could say anything, she turned her head and shouted, “Vi! Get your ass over here.”

Oh my God! No! Shit!

I looked at Mike and he had his head bent and his eyes closed.

“Mike?” I called and he opened his eyes and looked at me.

“Fuck,” he muttered then his eyes shifted over my shoulder and he sighed.

“Uh…hi,” I heard and turned.

There she was. Violet Callahan. And she was even more gorgeous close up. Worse, Jessie and Mimi had followed her down. They either started our way before Cheryl gave them the okay or they had the ability to dematerialize and re-materialize at whim.

“I’m Violet,” she told me sticking her hand out. I took it, her fingers curled around mine tight and she kept talking. “And, so this isn’t more uncomfortable for you and me, I’ll get it out of the way. I know you know about, uh…you know and obviously I know since I was, um…there so we both know. And that’s done. Oh, and I know you’re Dusty. And I also looked you up on the internet and saw your pottery. It’s pretty. So pretty I bought a bowl and a platter. Joe freaked because I spent three hundred and fifty dollars on a bowl and a platter. He said the most he’s ever spent on a bowl was twenty dollars and it came with four of them and a set of plates and he’s never owned a platter. But they were worth it, they were that pretty. And I’m not sayin’ that to get you to like me. I’m just sayin’ that because it’s true. And I didn’t buy them to get you to like me either. I bought them because I liked them. And Joe didn’t say that about them because he didn’t like them. I don’t know if he liked them. He’s not a pottery kind of guy. They came through the mail a couple of days ago and I put them out on the shelves in our livin’ room and I’m not certain he’s even noticed them. Probably not. But not because they aren’t pretty. Because he’s Joe. Oh, and I wasn’t internet stalking you or anything. I was just curious. It’s not like I read everything about you, though there isn’t much. Just your gallery page and –”

“Vi, shut up, you’re babbling,” Jessie cut in.

Vi jerked my hand she still held then let it go, crying, “Shit! I am. Sorry.”

“You had a thing with my boyfriend. It was intense. You still like him. You don’t want to lose him from your life. So you’re nervous. I get that. You aren’t the first woman I’ve known who’s known what it’s like to kiss my man,” I offered to put her at ease.

“Stealth kisses,” she muttered.

“What?” I asked.

“Fuck,” Mike murmured.

Vi’s eyes went huge.

“Sorry, uh…” Vi stammered and stopped.

“Stealth kisses?” I asked.

“Fuck,” Mike murmured.

Vi bit her lip.

I burst out laughing, slapping my hand on the bar while doing it and everything.

“Oh my God!” I shouted when I was down to chuckling. “I think of them as slow burn kisses. Stealth is so…much…better.”

“Fuck,” Mike murmured.

Vi smiled a tentative smile at me and said softly, “Slow burn is good too.”

I heard Mike sigh.

I ignored that and turned to Cheryl. “Four tequila shooters,” I ordered.

“Don’t forget me,” Cheryl returned.

“Right then, five,” I corrected.

“Fuck,” Mike muttered.

I looked over my shoulder and grinned at him. His eyes dropped to my mouth. Then he sighed again.

Then he claimed me, turning me into him and dropping his head to brush his mouth against mine.

When he lifted it, he said quietly, “I’m outta here. You need me, I’m down at the other end of the bar.”

“I think that’s a good call,” I approved, grinning.

His eyes swept the area behind me and he muttered again, “Fuck.”

My grin became a smile.

Mike’s arm gave me a squeeze then he got the heck out of there.

“Shots ready,” Cheryl announced and all the women reached in and claimed a glass. “What’ll we toast to?” she asked.

I looked at Vi.

“Stealth kisses,” I declared.

“Absolutely,” she replied.

I smiled at her. She smiled back.

We lifted our glasses and tossed them back.

“Cake.”

This was said in my ear by a very deep, very rough male voice.

I turned and my eyes hit a wall of tank top covered chest. They went up, up, up and I locked eyes with a bald man who, I had to admit, wasn’t entirely attractive. In fact, I didn’t get scared easily and, one look, he scared the crap out of me.

“Sorry?” I whispered.

“Cake,” he repeated.

“Uh…” I mumbled.

“As in, you owe me,” he explained.

“I owe you cake?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Uh…” I mumbled again. “Like, you’re saying I owe you money?” I asked, concerned he would think this because first, he was scary. Second, I’d never seen him in my life and third, whatever money he thought I owed him I knew I’d pay just because he scared me.

“No,” he drew this out like I was a dimwitted child, “like I’m sayin’ you owe me a cake with twelve layers and a fuckload of frosting.”

What?

“Ryker,” I heard Mike say and I felt his chest pressed to my back.

Oh thank God.

Mike was there.

I leaned into him.

We were still at J&J’s. The drinking had progressed but I’d moved to beers since I didn’t want to get shitfaced too soon. As I drank and gabbed with the nutso women The ‘Burg seemed to both produce and attract, I understood with deep clarity why Mike had a thing for Vi. She was funny, she was sweet and there was also the fact I’d mentioned before that she was gorgeous.

Not to be conceited or anything but she reminded me of, well…me.

Except brunette with two daughters and a brutal history that would take most women down to their knees in a way they’d never get up. By her account, she pulled herself up, twice, and knowing that made me like her more.

She was like me even down to the man. Joe Callahan was rough around the edges, he had two scars that curved down one side of his face that only made him look dead cool and smokin’ hot and, unlike Cal, Mike had had his hair cut in the last month. But from all reports (these not only Vi’s but also from Cheryl, Mimi, Jessie and Feb who, with Cheryl, wandered to our hen pack when she wasn’t working) Cal was bossy, alpha, badass, protective and could be a pain in Vi’s ass. Not that Mike was a pain in my ass but I suspected when that happened (as it always did), Mike would be the same kind of pain in my ass. This being bossy, alpha and badass in a good guy up top, bad boy underneath kind of way, of course.

By the by, Feb reported Colt was also like this.

Eventually we decided to wander down to the men where Rocky had stayed and I got this since she had a brother who was a current cop, a Dad who was an ex-cop and she was used to being around the boys. She did welcome us and then joined our klatch after she introduced me to her husband though.

Taking in Colt, Cal, Tanner and Mike I was wondering why I hadn’t moved back to The ‘Burg years ago when the man Mike called Ryker came up behind me talking about cake.

“You know this guy?” I whispered to Mike, not tearing my eyes off Ryker.

“Yeah,” Ryker answered my question then he jerked an enormous hand my way and he went on. “Everyone knows me. Now you do too. I’m Ryker.”

I didn’t want to but I took his hand. He squeezed hard. I tried not to wince. He let me go.

Ryker looked over my shoulder at Mike.

“Nice hair,” he noted and I was thinking he wasn’t talking about Mike’s.

“Ryker,” Mike said in a very low voice that sounded like a warning.

“Pretty voice,” Ryker went on.

“Ryker,” Mike repeated.

Ryker grinned and if I was scared before, I was really scared now.

“Seriously great rack,” he commented.

I blinked.

“You’re done,” Mike stated and his voice didn’t sound like anything. It was, quite simply, a warning.

But I was thinking that I didn’t want Mike to have a smackdown with this guy. I figured Mike could take care of himself. I’d seen him in action with Beau and he took Beau down to his knees in a split second and kept him there with no apparent effort. But this guy had two sleeves of tattoos. He was tall. He had a lot of bulky muscle. He had no hair at all. It was early April, there was still a nip in the air and he was wearing only a tank top with no coat in evidence. He had a knife on his belt. And even his smiles were terrifying.

Before Ryker could say anything to piss Mike off (more), I cut in.

“Um, please don’t have a smackdown with my boyfriend. We just moved in together and when I say ‘just’ I mean, like, last night. Drunk sex for us is awesome. I’m half-drunk. I intend to get loaded. You have a smackdown with my boyfriend, you might be tempted to shank him with that knife. This would mean I might miss out on drunk sex and that would be upsetting.”

Ryker stared at me and I quailed hoping I didn’t do it visibly.

Then he threw his big, sadly unattractive head back and shouted with laughter.

That was scary too.

When he was done he trained eyes on Mike and declared, “I like her.”

“She’s likeable,” Mike replied, sliding an arm around my belly from behind.

Ryker looked at me and repeated what he said earlier, “Cake.”

I thought it best to agree though I didn’t know why.

“Uh…okay.”

He stared at me then looked at Mike. “She has no idea.”

“I told her someone was lookin’ into McGrath for me,” Mike said. “She didn’t know who.”

That was when I stared at Ryker with new eyes.

This was Colt’s informant? I’d never met an informant but I guessed he looked like one since he looked like he was capable of committing a variety of felonies and definitely knew others who participated in these activities.

“You’re helping my family?” I asked.

“For cake,” he answered.

Suddenly, I liked him.

Therefore I grinned and agreed. “Totally. My biggest cake is ten layers but that’s five cut in half so don’t get excited about the cake since it is a lot of cake but it’s mostly frosting. If you want twelve, I could swing that. That’s a little tall and it might slide off but as long as it’s on the counter, it slides off, just eat it off the counter or scoop it onto a plate. It won’t look pretty but it’ll still taste good.”

He stared at me.

“I like your tattoos,” I shared.

“’Course you do. They’re awesome,” he returned.

There was no reply to that so I tried gratitude for something else.

“Thank you for helping my family.”

“Nothin’ to thank me for yet,” his eyes moved over my shoulder to Mike, “McGrath’s slippery.”

“Fuck,” Mike muttered his favorite word of the evening.

“Still nosin’,” Ryker told him.

“Good,” Mike said.

“Gotta admit, I wasn’t committed to the task,” Ryker confessed. “But for a bitch in a tight tee with a great rack who makes twelve layer cakes and likes drunk sex, I’ll step it up,” he offered.

I pressed my lips together but I was pretty sure my smile still came through.

“Jesus,” Mike muttered.

Ryker looked at me then announced, “I’m taken. Got a good woman who gives amazing head. But I find myself free and you find yourself the same, just sayin’, I’m open for a hook up.”

Mike’s body got tight at my back, his arm the same around my belly and angry vibes started searing my skin.

Clearly Mike was pissed but I forgot this guy terrified me and instead thought he was funny so you could hear the laughter in my voice when I turned him down, “That’s a great offer and I appreciate it but I’ve been in love with Mike for about twenty-five years so if that were to happen it would be in another dimension.”

“Yeah,” he nodded his big bald head, “Lissa’s got her hooks in me deep. Still, the you and me in another dimension’ll have fun.”

“I’m sure the you and me in another dimension will,” I concurred.

He grinned his scary grin then muttered, “Right.” He looked at Mike and stated, “On the case now, bro. I’ll give it undivided attention.”

“That’d be good, Ryker,” Mike said on a deep sigh.

Ryker trained his eyes on me and his farewell was, “Cake.”

Then he was there no longer.

I turned, tipped my head back and pressed my body to Mike’s. He was already looking down at me and his hands settled on my hips so mine slid around his waist.

“Did that just happen?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered.

“That guy was real and not a figment of my imagination?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered.

“He’s terrifying in a hilarious and slightly lovable way,” I shared.

“He’s the first, the last two I’m not sure I agree.”

I grinned up at my man and leaned deeper into him.

Mike’s hands slid from my hips to become arms that rounded me and his head dipped close.

“So you’re only half-drunk?” he asked.

I stared in his eyes and liked what I saw.

“Unfortunately,” I whispered.

“Time for the tequila switch, sweetheart,” he whispered back.

I smiled and replied, “You’re absolutely right.”

Mike turned me to the bar and ordered a tequila shot. I drank it. More came after it. Then Mike took me home. He gave it to me bossy, controlling and dirty.

I loved every second of it.

Then I passed out naked in his arms with Layla’s head resting on my ankle.

Mike ended the kiss, his lips sliding down, his mouth working my neck.

It was Sunday morning. We had day old Hilligoss downstairs which weren’t the same but they were still brilliant. Mike was inside me, we’d both finished after he’d taken his time. It wasn’t dirty. It was sweet, lazy, fantastic.

And he’d ended it as usual then finished it off with a slow, beautiful kiss.

I turned my head and in his ear, whispered, “Stealth kisses.”

Against my neck, Mike muttered, “Fuck.”

My arms tightening around him, I smiled at the ceiling of the bedroom I shared with my man, happy.