At Peace
Page 52
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).
I walked up two of the four steps before he moved, leaning down to grab my hand then he dragged me up the two remaining steps so fast I almost tripped again. Then he swung me into his house and let me go, turning to slide the glass door shut then turning back to me.
“Joe –”
“You play that game often, buddy?”
“What?”
“On your stool, drunk and cute, suckin’ on your straw?”
“You have the wrong idea.”
“Yeah? You played me the same, exact, f**kin’ way.”
I felt some of my fear sliding away as anger replaced it.
“I played you?”
“Felt like I was watchin’ a movie after a rewind.”
I leaned forward and hissed, “You dick!”
He moved and Mike was right, he was fast. I was backed up against a wall before I knew what was happening.
My anger died an early death and I was back to scared.
“Joe –”
His hands were sliding around my back and down to my ass as he said, “I play you tonight.”
“No!” I cried. “Joe, listen to me, I’ve never flirted.”
“Baby, you’re the best f**kin’ flirt I’ve ever met.”
“Yeah, I know, I found out tonight,” I told him, putting my hands to his chest and getting up on my toes. “Listen, Mike told me about the cherry thing and the straw thing. With you, I was just drunk. With him, I was just sipping my drink.”
“You did the cherry thing with him?” he growled.
“No!” I cried again. “He just told me about it, that, um… men even at a hundred and two, would… um, like that.”
“You know men like that.”
“I’ve been with the same guy since I was fifteen. Tim liked it. I just thought he never grew out of it since he’d been with me since he was sixteen. I mean, it’s not hard, doing that with a cherry stem. It isn’t like pole dancing or something.”
Joe was silent.
“Anyway, I’ve never had to flirt,” I continued. “Tim asked me out in the lunch line in the cafeteria in high school. I was buying bad pizza and chocolate milk. Do you get what I’m tellin’ you?”
Joe remained silent.
“Joe,” I whispered, my hands sliding up to his neck, “I didn’t play you. I don’t know how to play anyone.”
“He ask you out?”
Oh shit.
I closed my eyes.
“He asked you out,” Joe said softly.
I opened my eyes and whispered, “Joe –”
“And you’re goin’.”
“Joe –”
“When?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“I leave Sunday.”
“For how long?”
“A week, maybe two, meetings are pilin’ up.”
“Oh.”
His hands slid down my ass to my thighs as he bent slightly then I was going up, he pulled my legs apart and I wrapped them around his h*ps as his hands slid back to my ass and my arms went around his shoulders. Carrying me, he started walking down the hall.
“I’m not leavin’ for two weeks not gettin’ my fill of you.”
“Joe –”
“You come to me after he’s done with you.”
Oh God, why was this so f**ked up?
“Joe, I don’t –”
He put a knee to his bed and then my back was to it and he was on me.
“You come to me or I come to you. Buddy, you want me f**kin’ you with your girls in the house then you stay home. You don’t, I hear your feet on the steps of my deck.”
His hand pulled my blouse from my jeans as I asked, “You’re not askin’ are you?”
His fingers pulled down the cup of my bra when he answered, “Nope.”
“Joe –” I whispered when his thumb swept over my nipple and I felt only that and forgot what we were talking about.
“Vi,” he called and I realized I’d closed my eyes so I opened them and focused on him. “There’s five hundred dollars on my nightstand, when you go home in the mornin’, you take it.”
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).
I walked up two of the four steps before he moved, leaning down to grab my hand then he dragged me up the two remaining steps so fast I almost tripped again. Then he swung me into his house and let me go, turning to slide the glass door shut then turning back to me.
“Joe –”
“You play that game often, buddy?”
“What?”
“On your stool, drunk and cute, suckin’ on your straw?”
“You have the wrong idea.”
“Yeah? You played me the same, exact, f**kin’ way.”
I felt some of my fear sliding away as anger replaced it.
“I played you?”
“Felt like I was watchin’ a movie after a rewind.”
I leaned forward and hissed, “You dick!”
He moved and Mike was right, he was fast. I was backed up against a wall before I knew what was happening.
My anger died an early death and I was back to scared.
“Joe –”
His hands were sliding around my back and down to my ass as he said, “I play you tonight.”
“No!” I cried. “Joe, listen to me, I’ve never flirted.”
“Baby, you’re the best f**kin’ flirt I’ve ever met.”
“Yeah, I know, I found out tonight,” I told him, putting my hands to his chest and getting up on my toes. “Listen, Mike told me about the cherry thing and the straw thing. With you, I was just drunk. With him, I was just sipping my drink.”
“You did the cherry thing with him?” he growled.
“No!” I cried again. “He just told me about it, that, um… men even at a hundred and two, would… um, like that.”
“You know men like that.”
“I’ve been with the same guy since I was fifteen. Tim liked it. I just thought he never grew out of it since he’d been with me since he was sixteen. I mean, it’s not hard, doing that with a cherry stem. It isn’t like pole dancing or something.”
Joe was silent.
“Anyway, I’ve never had to flirt,” I continued. “Tim asked me out in the lunch line in the cafeteria in high school. I was buying bad pizza and chocolate milk. Do you get what I’m tellin’ you?”
Joe remained silent.
“Joe,” I whispered, my hands sliding up to his neck, “I didn’t play you. I don’t know how to play anyone.”
“He ask you out?”
Oh shit.
I closed my eyes.
“He asked you out,” Joe said softly.
I opened my eyes and whispered, “Joe –”
“And you’re goin’.”
“Joe –”
“When?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“I leave Sunday.”
“For how long?”
“A week, maybe two, meetings are pilin’ up.”
“Oh.”
His hands slid down my ass to my thighs as he bent slightly then I was going up, he pulled my legs apart and I wrapped them around his h*ps as his hands slid back to my ass and my arms went around his shoulders. Carrying me, he started walking down the hall.
“I’m not leavin’ for two weeks not gettin’ my fill of you.”
“Joe –”
“You come to me after he’s done with you.”
Oh God, why was this so f**ked up?
“Joe, I don’t –”
He put a knee to his bed and then my back was to it and he was on me.
“You come to me or I come to you. Buddy, you want me f**kin’ you with your girls in the house then you stay home. You don’t, I hear your feet on the steps of my deck.”
His hand pulled my blouse from my jeans as I asked, “You’re not askin’ are you?”
His fingers pulled down the cup of my bra when he answered, “Nope.”
“Joe –” I whispered when his thumb swept over my nipple and I felt only that and forgot what we were talking about.
“Vi,” he called and I realized I’d closed my eyes so I opened them and focused on him. “There’s five hundred dollars on my nightstand, when you go home in the mornin’, you take it.”
