At Peace (The 'Burg #2)(63)



I choked on my drink again, luckily not to the point I had to lean over and deep breathe then asked, “She bought one a month?”

“I won’t get into the shoes.”

“Sure, I’d like one a month, if I was Ivana Trump.”

“I ain’t Donald.”

“They’re divorced too.”

He burst out laughing and I laughed with him, this laughing felt good, I hadn’t laughed like that in awhile nor smiled that much. The laughing was especially good since his face was even more handsome when he was laughing.

We talked awhile then Cheryl came back, coming up empty on her cruise. She started to relay the information about how all the men in the bar were losers and Mike wisely decided it was time to move on. He got my address, my phone number and told me he’d be at my house the next night to pick me up at seven thirty.

He also leaned in, his hand curled around my neck and he touched my mouth with his then his lips went to my ear and he whispered, “It’ll be better tomorrow night, sweetheart, promise.”

Then before I could say a word, which I didn’t get it together to do since I was concentrating on a little flutter in my stomach, he let me go and left.

“I’m livin’ in this town a year, I got nothin’. You’re here a few months, you got two hot guys all over you,” Cheryl bitched while sitting down then she shouted, “Dee, I’m dry!”

“Cheryl, I’m screwed,” I told her. “Joe was here.”

Her eyes came to me and she said, “Sure thing, babe, saw him, why you think I tagged Mike? Mike comes in all the time, totally knew you were his type. That works out I should sell my services as a matchmaker.”

I was still letting the first part of what she said sink in. “You saw Joe?”

“Yeah, he came in while you were in the bathroom.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“And miss my chance at forcin’ the come to Jesus? No way!”

Dee put Cheryl’s drink in front of her and moved away. Cheryl put the straw to her lips and sucked up a huge sip.

“A come to Jesus?” I asked through her sip.

She put her drink on the bar and turned to me. “Yeah, he sees you gettin’ flirted with by a hot guy, he either moves to protect his property or he steps aside. Either way, you know where you stand and you know what you gotta do. Come to Jesus.”

“So, you orchestrated that?”

“Am I your friend?”

“I don’t know, it depends on if Joe’s head explodes.”

“Don’t you want it to?”

“Cheryl, you haven’t been around him when he’s pissed, he’s kinda scary.”

“He get physical?”

“Not really, unless you mean sexually physical then the answer is yes, a lot, but that’s the good part.”

She grinned. “I hope it does. If it doesn’t, Mike’s cool, he’s also nice, he’s also hot and hopefully sex with him is the good part too, so you win either way.”

She wasn’t wrong about that but somehow, it felt like she was.

I sucked back more of my drink, looked where Mike looked when he saw Joe and I saw someone I didn’t know sitting on the stool next to Colt’s. I thought about Joe and going over in his t-shirt that night and I thought about Mike and our date.

And I thought about how my life was a lot less complicated before Daniel Hart blew it to pieces by ordering a hit on the man I loved who was the father of my children.

Then I sighed and sucked back more drink.

* * * * *

Even though we were both only slightly tipsy, being good citizens (and imbibing in a bar that did indeed get frequented by cops) Cheryl and I took a taxi home. I got dropped off first.

I pulled my remote out of my purse, disarmed the alarm, went in the side door, locked it and armed the alarm again. I checked on Keira who was sleeping then Kate who was also sleeping.

As I was heading to my room, my cell in my purse started ringing.

I walked to it on the kitchen counter, pulled it out, saw the display said “Joe’s Cell” and my breath caught in my throat.

Then I slid the phone open, put it to my ear and forced out, “Hello.”

“Get your ass over here.”

“Joe –”

“Now, buddy.”

Then I heard nothing, he’d disconnected. I stood frozen in the dark of my kitchen with a dead phone to my ear and I was thinking maybe Cheryl’s come to Jesus idea wasn’t such a good thing.

I was also thinking maybe I should hole myself up in my bedroom but Joe not only knew where I lived, he lived next door and he’d installed my alarm system and most likely had the knowledge of how to bypass it so I was pretty much screwed.

And what was I worried about anyway? These were his rules. I’d asked him to dinner, he’d told me he was done with me. What? I couldn’t go to dinner when someone asked me because Joe, apparently, wasn’t done with me?

I hit the buttons on the remote to disarm the alarm, grabbed my keys, unlocked the door, exited my house, locked the door and armed the alarm. I walked between my house and my garage and turned right toward Joe’s deck.

I got into his yard and nearly tripped.

He was standing in the dark on his deck, his hip against the railing, his foot crossed at the ankle, his arms crossed on his huge chest, waiting for me. He was wearing what appeared to be a black t-shirt (he didn’t seem to have anything else), jeans (he also didn’t seem to have anything other than jeans either) and boots (probably his motorcycle boots, which was all I’d ever seen him wear).

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