At Peace (The 'Burg #2)(148)

Joe was quickly becoming accustomed to the fact that his ordering me to relax didn’t mean I would and, apparently, he was good with that.

I looked back at myself in the mirror and took a deep breath.

Then I washed my hands in preparation to go introduce my dead husband’s parents to the man who replaced their son.

* * * * *

I couldn’t say the last week with Joe in the house was uneventful.

It was eventful.

Very eventful.

First up was telling the girls.

* * * * *

They’d called the morning after Joe had moved in, waking us both up.

Joe, closer to the phone, rolled away from me and tagged it as I shook off sleep and rolled toward him.

“’Lo?” his deep, rumbling, sleepy voice growled.

I blinked sleep away.

“Yeah, girl, she’s right here.”

Girl.

Shit! He’d answered the phone, sounding asleep and told one of my daughters I was right there.

Joe calmly offered the phone to me and I got up on a hand and stared at it as if it had a mouth, that mouth was open, baring fangs and it was going to bite.

“Baby, it’s Keira,” Joe murmured his prompt and I blinked again then got up to sitting and snatched the phone from his hand.

“Hi honey,” I said into it, trying not to sound sleepy and worrying that I failed.

“Hey Mom,” Keira answered, sounding awake and bouncy like always, not traumatized in a way that meant, sometime in the future she’d enter a mall and mow down innocent bystanders with a machine gun because her Mom’s new boyfriend answered the phone first thing in the morning, sounding sleepy and definitely being in bed with her mother. “We’re packed up and just about to leave.”

“Okay, baby,” I said, curling my knees to my chest and wrapping an arm around them. “You want anything special when you get home?”

“A hot fudge sundae, your hot fudge, Fulsham’s frozen custard,” she replied instantly and that was my Keira, always knowing exactly what she wanted, how she wanted it and not afraid to say it.

“I can do that,” I told her. “What about Kate and… um… Dane?”

“Hang on a minute,” she said into my ear then I heard her shouting to Dane and Kate as I looked at Joe who was lying on his back, watching me talk to my daughter.

His face was still gentled by sleep, his jaw shadowed with stubble, his big, powerful body relaxed, one arm cocked, hand behind his head, the other hand resting on his abs. His scars were on display along with his muscles. His skin had a beautiful olive tint to it, likely given to him by his mother. It and his hair were dark against my light green sheets and this, for some reason, I found unbelievably appealing. His blue eyes were on me, so clear, so blue, so startling, I remembered the first time I saw them and how they affected me and that effect had not diminished in all these months.

I’m yours.

The words he’d said to me two days before came into my head and they hit me like a thunderbolt. So simple, so Joe, two words, two short words but put together and said by Joe their meaning packed a powerful punch.

It socked me right in the gut, so strong, I was sitting in my bed but I was winded.

Then I didn’t know why, I unfolded my legs, twisted to him and bent down. I touched my lips to his throat then rested my cheek against his chest, settling into his warm, hard body, the phone still at my ear, my other ear hearing his heartbeat.

His hand behind his head came to me, sliding into my hair and staying there.

Keira spoke to me. “Kate says she doesn’t want anything and Dane says he’d like some of your pork chops. Though, I’m thinkin’ he’s only sayin’ that because he knows Kate likes your pork chops. I told them about the hot fudge sundaes and they’re both in.”

“All right, Keirry,” I said into the phone, “though, it being summer, I think we’ll barbeque some pork chops.”

Keira was silent. I was not queen of the barbeque. Tim always grilled the food. Since he died I’d tried on countless occasions and hadn’t had much success.

“It’ll be okay, I’ve got to get the hang of it eventually. Maybe tonight’s our lucky night,” I told her.

“Maybe Joe could man the grill,” Keira suggested and I laughed at the thought of sinister, rugged Joe Callahan doing something as domestic as manning a grill.

“I can do it,” I replied.

“Great,” she muttered.

I grinned. “Get home, be safe, see you in a couple hours.”

“Yeah, Momalicious.”

“Give Katy a cuddle for me.”

“I will,” she said and I knew she’d do it, my girls were affectionate. They fought but the ill-will never lasted long.

“Love you, baby,” I whispered into the phone and Joe’s fingers tensed at my scalp.

“Love you too, Mom. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I pressed the off button and Joe’s hand at his abs came to the phone and slid it out of my fingers. I lifted up, he twisted and put it in its bed then twisted back to me, full-on, rolling me to my back.

Then his hands and mouth started moving on me, his hands on my ribs, his mouth at my neck.

“They’re leaving,” I told him.

“How much time we got?” he asked and my stomach dipped.