At Peace (The 'Burg #2)(196)
“Joe –”
“In your garage.”
“Joe –”
“In my truck.”
“Joe!”
His mouth went to mine and I stopped breathing at what I saw in his eyes.
“You’re right, though. We would have found each other.”
My body relaxed under his and I whispered, “Joe.”
His head came up and he grinned slow. “You realize, buddy, that we’re discussing the ways I’d cheat on Bonnie.”
It struck me that we actually were and that was kind of funny therefore I giggled.
Then I said through a smile and while running my fingers along his scar, up his cheekbone and into his hair. “I met her once, honey, and I didn’t like her much so I’m not too broken up about that.”
His head came down and he kissed me through his gentle laughter.
Then he f**ked me but nothing about that was gentle.
It would be later, when I was almost asleep, that I realized we’d both laughed about Bonnie but, more importantly, Joe had done it.
And I fell asleep thinking that, even though it was funny, what we said was also probably true.
And that was even funnier.
* * * * *
The next morning while Kate and Keira were running around like they’d never gotten ready for school in their lives, Keira working herself into a frenzy because it was her first day in high school and Joe was making them oatmeal and being calm which had no effect on them being in a tizzy, I walked out with the photo frame filled with Joe and Nicky and I put it on the shelves.
Kate saw, smiled at me but she didn’t say a word.
Keira didn’t see me because she was arguing with Joe. “But Joe, I can’t eat oatmeal. My stomach feels funny.”
“Nerves, baby, eat,” Joe replied.
“I’ll get sick,” Keira returned.
“No you won’t,” Joe said.
Keira looked at me and cried, “Mom!”
“Eat your oatmeal, honey,” I told her.
She stomped a foot on a repeated, annoyed, “Mom!”
“Keirry, the last time you vomited you were in second grade and had the flu. The last time you threatened to vomit was two days ago,” I said. “You need food or you’ll get cranky before second period. Eat your oatmeal.”
“Argh!” she shouted and then snatched up her oatmeal.
Keira ate her oatmeal and we had seven more dramas before she and Kate climbed into Kate’s Fiesta and they headed out while Joe and I waved them good-bye (well, Joe stood by me while I waved good-bye, he didn’t wave).
When they were out of sight, I turned and moved into Joe, wrapping my arms around him. I looked up at him and he looked down at me.
“Shit, my baby’s in high school,” I muttered.
“Yeah,” was his only reply.
“Shit,” I repeated, pressed my face into his chest and his fingers wrapped around the back of my neck.
“Let’s just hope she doesn’t snag a boyfriend on day one,” Joe told the top of my head.
I tipped my head back. “She’s on a mission so don’t hope too hard. You do, you’re cruisin’ for disappointment.”
Joe grinned, dipped his face to mine, kissed me and then guided me into the house.
He knew the picture was there, I knew he did. He didn’t say anything and neither did I.
I got ready and went to work and Joe got ready with me and went to his office.
Life goes on.
* * * * *
And life went on, safe and sweet in most ways, insane and crazed because two teenage girls lived in our house.
But that shield Joe put up was strong and held true for two beautiful weeks.
Then Daniel Hart blew it to smithereens.
Chapter Twenty
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Benny heard the knock on his door, his eyes opened and the woman in his bed moved. When she reminded him of her presence, he struggled to remember her name. He could remember her lips, could even call up a vision of them. Full, soft, a nice red-pink even without lipstick. Heaven wrapped around his c**k especially with all her long, dark hair all around, soft against his skin. He usually liked to watch and would pull their hair back. Her hair was so soft he left it where it was.
It came to him. Carla.
She lifted her head. “Whas that?”
“Go back to sleep. I’ll take care of it,” Benny told her, throwing the covers back and grabbing his jeans from the floor.
Carla collapsed back into bed and he heard her soft snore.
He yanked up his jeans, left the room and hit the stairs, surprised her snores began immediately. He knew then that was it, she was out. Not that she’d made an impression on him, only her lips had but even if he woke up beside her and she rallied, he knew she was out. He hated snoring and he also couldn’t call up much emotion for some bitch who could hear a knock on the door in the early hours of morning and leave him to it. He wouldn’t let her do anything but he figured Violet would not go back to sleep and leave Cal to deal. She’d wait to go back to sleep when she knew he was back in bed with her, safe. And he knew she’d do this with her dead husband too. She’d do this before she learned knocks in the moments before dawn could mean bad shit had come calling. She’d do this because it was the right thing to do if you were a good person or you gave a shit about someone.