At Peace (The 'Burg #2)(159)
And he knew it the first night we met.
I felt tears sting my eyes and my other arm wrapped tight around him.
“Joe,” I whispered.
His mouth came to mine again as his hands lifted my legs to wrap them around his h*ps and he whispered back, “I love you, baby.” I felt my breath hitch and the tears slid out the sides of my eyes but he wasn’t done. “And I’m not f**kin’ movin’ out.”
“Okay,” I replied instantly.
I felt him smile against my mouth then I felt his hand slide into my panties to cup my ass then he kissed me and, after that, he made love to me. He took his time, he let me take mine and it was better than any other time before.
So that was saying something.
* * * * *
After, Joe called, “Vi?”
“Yeah, baby?” I said into his chest.
“Move the mortgage and utilities, yeah?”
I sucked in breath then said, “Maybe we should –”
“Move ‘em.”
“Joe –”
His hand slid into my hair, fisted and he tilted my head back as he lifted his and dipped his chin.
“Not gonna say it again, baby,” he said softly.
“I’ve got more on my scales,” I whispered in reply.
His fist unclenched and his hand cupped the back of my head as he asked, “What?”
“You keep unbalancing the scales, giving me more. It’s not fair.”
He was silent a second then he asked quietly, “You shittin’ me?”
I shook my head.
His other arm went around me and he pulled me up his chest until I was face to face with him.
Then he spoke.
“Since I could remember, all I wanted was a family. My Mom died, my Dad lost it and I’d go to Aunt Theresa and Uncle Vinnie’s house, bein’ with their family, a family that was loud and in your business which part of the time was annoying as hell but the rest of the time it just felt good because they were that way because they gave a shit. And I wanted that. My Dad was so deep in his grief he lost his way and he forgot to give a shit so I never had that, not at home. I got older and that changed and all I wanted was a good woman and a family. All my life, with a slight variation on theme, that’s all I ever wanted. Buddy, you’ve given me both. You think, givin’ me that, I could ever balance those scales?”
I didn’t say anything, couldn’t, because I was crying.
Joe wrapped his arms around me, rolled us to our sides and held me while I did it. Once I stopped crying, his hand came up and he dried my tears with his thumb.
Then he whispered, “Move the mortgage and utilities, yeah?”
“Okay, Joe.”
He tucked my face in his throat and he was still whispering when he said, “Love you, buddy.”
“Love you too, Joe.”
“Sleep.”
“Okay. ‘Night, honey.”
“’Night, baby.”
I lay in his arms and thought I’d been lucky, getting pregnant at seventeen by the love of my life. I’d even known I was lucky all those years I had Tim.
Until I lost the love of my life.
And here I was, with all the shit that had gone down, finding myself just that lucky again.
I cuddled closer to Joe Callahan then I fell asleep.
* * * * *
I didn’t have a nightmare that night.
I slept the whole night through like a log, didn’t wake up once.
* * * * *
Wednesday went by mostly without incident.
That was if you didn’t count me coming home from work and Keira rushing out of her room, arms wheeling, Mooch following her yapping as she ran down the hall, shouting, “Joe bought us new computers!”
That day Kate had off from the Custard Stand so I knew Joe and the girls were going out to make final decisions on kitchen appliances, faucets for both kitchen and bathroom and to select tile for Joe’s house.
As far as I knew, computers weren’t in the mix.
“New computers?” I asked my daughter as she skidded to a halt in front of me (though Mooch came right at me and jumped around my legs).
“Yeah!” she shouted, her face alight with glee.
“Computers. As in, plural?” I went on, bending down to pick up Mooch and give him a snuggle.
“Yeah, one for Kate, one for me and a new desktop to replace our old one and act as a server.” Keira was watching my face, reading my expression and sensing my reaction, therefore her enthusiasm faded and she quickly explained, “Joe says they’re for homework. He says we need ‘em for school. He says our old one is too old and one computer for four people is ridiculous in this day and age.”
I let this information sink in, hearing Joe speaking these words in my head (and he probably used the f-word somewhere while saying them) as I juggled Mooch, dumped my purse on the counter and reminded myself that Joe had just got the family he always wanted. He was making up for lost time. It wouldn’t be good for me to blow my stack at Joe’s alarming tendency to spoil my daughters every chance he got. I had to be patient with him and find the right time to explain that new computers and the like were things family discussed. Or, more to the point, things adults discussed prior to them being purchased.
Then I heard what sounded like a drill.
“Is that a drill?” I asked Keira.