“Nothing unless you’re going to be nice.”
“I’m always nice.”
Joe snorted and passed him and went into the kitchen.
“Thinks he knows how to cook,” his dad said to Kylie.
“I do know how to cook!” Joe yelled from the kitchen.
Joe’s dad lifted his forefinger and thumb about an inch apart.
Joe stuck his head out of the kitchen. “How about you call for takeout if my food sucks so bad?”
“And he’s as sensitive as a girl,” his dad said.
“Boys are just as sensitive as girls,” Kylie said. “Maybe more so. So probably you meant to say he’s as sensitive as a boy.”
Joe’s dad paused and then tipped his head back and laughed out loud. “Son, you went and did it now,” he yelled. “This one’s going to give you a run for your money.”
Joe didn’t respond to this, but Kylie could hear him banging stuff around in the kitchen. She told herself it didn’t matter that he didn’t agree with his dad about her giving him a run for his money. Because what they did agree on was that this was merely a friendship and a working relationship with a bit of holy-cow sex on the side. Which was fine. Because maybe there were some feelings developing for him deep down, but since she had no idea what those feelings were exactly, or what to do with them, it didn’t matter.
But she couldn’t deny that a small part of her would’ve filled with warm fuzzies if Joe had agreed with his dad about her at all instead of radio silence.
His dad rolled himself past Kylie and checked all the front door locks. He checked each of them exactly four times, paused, and then checked them a fifth time.
The same pattern Joe had used to come inside.
Kylie watched this with a sudden lump in her throat, understanding now exactly how much Joe cared about his family. And—whether he realized it or not—just how big a capacity he had to love.
Joe’s dad finished at the front door and grunted in satisfaction before wheeling to the windows, checking each of those four times as well. And then a fifth. There was one window that was too high for him in his chair so Kylie crossed to it herself and checked the lock. She did it four times. Then paused and checked it a fifth time.
When she turned around, Joe’s dad nodded in satisfaction. “Yeah,” he said. “You’ll do.”
She looked up and found Joe watching them both, his expression unreadable. “Kitchen,” he said, and vanished.
She and his dad exchanged a look.
“He’s probably getting his period,” his dad said.
Something slammed in the kitchen and his dad grinned. “Yeah, definitely he’s getting his period. Maybe we should buy him some of that shit, what’s it called? Midol.”
There was another bang in the kitchen.
Joe’s dad laughed. “For such a tough guy, he’s an easy target.”
Kylie bit her inner cheek. “You’re messing with him.”
“Well, of course I am.”
“Why?” Kylie asked.
His dad shrugged. “I cheated on Joe and just finished a season of Pretty Little Liars without him. I’m bored.”
Joe stuck his head out of the kitchen. “Hey, PLL was supposed to be our dirty little secret.”
Kylie was smiling. “You watch Pretty Little Liars?”
Joe scowled and vanished back into the kitchen.
“Told you,” his dad said, grinning at her. “He’s sensitive as a little . . . boy.”
“Food,” Joe yelled. “Come and get it or I’m eating it all myself.”
They entered the kitchen. Joe’s dad went straight to the sink and jabbed a finger at the stack of dirty pots and pans. “What’s that?”
“Dinner first,” Joe said. “I’ll do dishes after.”
“Around here, we always do dishes first.”
“Not tonight, Dad.”
“Since when?”
“Since it’s midnight and I’m tired and you’re being an asshole. On purpose.” He jabbed a finger in the direction of the table. “Sit.”
“I’m already sitting,” his dad said, sounding irritated, but when Joe turned his back, the guy winked at Kylie, in that moment looking very much like his son.
Joe served pasta and sauce and a salad. Kylie smiled when she saw that the pasta was little noodles in the shape of the alphabet.
“Hey,” his dad said, poking at it. “This isn’t Chef Boyardee.”
“Nope,” Joe said.
His dad pushed away his bowl. “You know that I only eat my SpaghettiOs from a can. That’s how I like ’em.”
Joe pushed the bowl back at him. “We’ve been over this. The stuff in a can that you ate all through the eighties like it was going out of style has way too much sodium. Your doctor said you have to cut back. And it’d be a lot easier to feed you if you’d agree to eat something other than pasta.”
His dad picked up a fork. “You know what you are? You’re a pants-wearing, sodium-hating commie.”
Joe nodded. “Impressive. You managed to fling insults without using the F-bomb.”
“My PT and nurse both threatened to quit if I didn’t stop saying it,” he confessed. “They gave me a book on how to swear without swearing. I don’t give a shit what Nurse Ratched thinks, but my PT’s alright.”
“Well look at you, learning to be social,” Joe said.
His dad snorted, but still only poked at the food.
“Dad, just try it.”
“Fine.” He took a bite with exaggerated caution.
“Well?” Joe asked.
“Eh.” He chewed. Swallowed. Took another big bite. And then another. “It’s nothing you’d see on Iron Chef but it’s okay.”
Joe rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks. Do you remember that time the power went out and in order to eat we had to heat cans over a fire pit we made in the backyard?”
His dad took another bite. “The power didn’t go out. It was turned off because those fuckers—er, I mean those effers didn’t tell me that my check had bounced. And since you couldn’t find a can opener, you used a battery-powered screw gun from the garage and poked holes in the can. And also in your own damn finger. Bled like a fire hose. It was so bad we couldn’t tell the difference between the sauce and the blood.”
“Needed stitches,” Joe said fondly, as if proud of this moment. “We used superglue, remember?”
“Hell yeah, I remember. We saved hundreds of dollars in ER bills.”
Kylie stared at the two of them laughing together over this rather horrifying memory. She was starting to realize just how much responsibility Joe had on a daily basis. How much responsibility he’d always had, starting from way too young an age, taking care of both his little sister and his dad.
She might not have had her parents, but she’d had her grandpa. He’d taken care of her, always. She’d never felt the weight of the world on her shoulders as surely as Joe had felt it. Still felt it.
When his dad’s bowl was empty, Joe nodded in approval and rose, collecting all the dishes, ruffling his dad’s short hair as he moved to the sink. It was a small thing, a quick little gesture, but it portrayed such love and acceptance that Kylie felt her throat go tight.
Joe’s cell buzzed an incoming text. He glanced at it and his expression went grim.
“What’s up?” his dad asked. “Work?”
“Yeah. I’ve got to go back in. We’ve got something going down tonight.”
“Kick ass,” his dad said.
Joe opened a drawer filled with prescriptions and pulled out a notepad to check the entries.
“I’ve been taking everything,” his dad said. “Jesus. I’m not a baby.”
“Taking them as in actually swallowing them,” Joe asked, “or taking them to flush them?”
“I don’t flush them anymore. They cost too fucking—er, effing much.”
Joe nodded, put the pad away, and looked at Kylie.
“Don’t worry about me. I told you, I’m a delight,” she said. “I can Ube
r home from here.”
“I’ll drop you off.”
She didn’t bother to argue with him as they left. She waited until they were in his truck and on the road. “Your dad’s pretty great,” she said.
Joe snorted.
“He is.”
Joe reached over and grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his mouth. “Thanks. You handled him well, so thanks for that too.”
“There was no handling anything. It was nice to meet him.”
He slid her a glance that she couldn’t read.
“What?” she asked.
“I told you, he doesn’t usually talk to anyone except people he knows and is comfortable with. But he talked to you. He liked you.”
“A lot of people like me,” Kylie said and made him laugh, which in turn warmed her because she felt like he needed the laugh, and also . . . it felt good that she’d given it to him.
The next day after work, Kylie walked into the pub and found some of the gang at the far right side of the bar, where they always hung out. Pru, Elle, Willa, and Molly. Kylie took the only empty barstool and paused when they all stared at her.
“What’s up?” she asked, looking down at herself. “Am I trailing tissue paper on my shoe or something?”
“Yeah, you’re right, Willa. She’s most definitely sleeping with him,” Pru said and slapped a ten down on the bar. “She’s got the postcoitus glow.”
Molly grimaced. “Come on, guys. I can’t take that bet.”
“I can,” Elle said and dropped her ten. “Kylie’s smiling with way too many teeth. Plus we all know Joe’s hot as hell. And those abs—”
“Hey,” Molly said. “My brother, remember? And anyway, it’s what’s on the inside that matters, not the outside.”
“Not in the beginning,” Elle said. “Be honest. It’s all about first visual impression and chemistry.”
Molly shook her head. “Not always.”
“Give me an example,” Elle said. “Even one example where in the first two seconds what’s on the inside is more important than the outside.”
“Uh . . .” Molly sighed and shook her head. “Dammit.”
“Refrigerator,” Sadie said as she came and sat down to join them.
Elle laughed. “Okay, I stand corrected.”
“You don’t get to talk,” Molly told her. “You’re with Archer, who looks at you like I look at fully loaded pizza. If a man looked at me like that, I wouldn’t worry about first impressions at all.”
While they went on to debate this, Willa turned to Kylie. “So are you?” she asked quietly. “Sleeping with him?”
“Technically? No.”
Willa grinned. “And untechnically?”
Kylie bit her lower lip and Willa laughed. “I knew it. How was it?”
Magic . . . “We’re not together like that,” she said. “We’re just friends.” Sort of. “It’s complicated.”
“Honey, why would you want to be just friends with a perfect male specimen like Joe?”
“He’s . . . not my type,” Kylie said. Lame.
“How is hot and sexy not your type?” Sadie wanted to know.
She turned around to find everyone listening. Great. “Well,” she said, brain whirling. “He’s pushy. And arrogant. And . . .” And smart. And sexy. And he liked to kiss everything, and she did mean everything. Which wasn’t exactly a fault . . .
Molly was watching her carefully and raised a brow.
Kylie swallowed hard and shook her head. “He’s bossy.” She tossed up her hands. “And okay, maybe just a little bit really hot and sexy.” She strained to think of more insults to cancel out the hot and sexy but realized that suddenly every one of her friends had gotten an identical funny look on their face. Crap. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he.”
“Yep,” Willa said cheerfully.
Kylie closed her eyes briefly before swiveling in her barstool.
Joe was indeed standing right there. “I wouldn’t say we’re just friends,” he told her.
“What would you say?” Willa wanted to know. “For the record.”
“For the record . . .” He wrapped his fingers around Kylie’s hand. “I’d say none of your business.”
Willa sighed as Joe tugged Kylie outside.
Chapter 20
#IllHaveWhatShesHaving
Joe pulled Kylie along with him through the courtyard, past the water fountain and right into the alley.
Old Man Eddie was sitting on a crate, feet up, head tilted back, watching the stars. At the sight of them, he sat up straight and waved.
“Need to borrow the alley for a moment,” Joe said and slid him a twenty.
Eddie grinned, pocketed it, and saluted him. “Take as many minutes as you need, Soldier.”
And then they were alone. Joe watched as Kylie went through her bag of tricks and pulled out the red wig.
“What’s that for?” he asked as she put it on.
“It’s my superhero cape,” she said. “I’m a little brave, but Red’s all the way brave. She can handle anything. If we’re going to talk about what just happened, I really need my superhero cape. I mean, I’d rather have an invisibility cloak, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
She was crazy. In the very best way, and he let out a low, rough laugh.
“Are you laughing at me?” she asked.
“With you,” he said. “Always with you.”
“But I’m not laughing.”
He did his best to dial the good humor back. “Kylie, given what I do for a living and my family life, how many times a day do you think I actually laugh?”
“I . . .” She sighed, dropped her ‘tude, and shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Approximately never,” he admitted. “Unless I’m with you.” And that was the real admission. “So I’m not going to apologize for enjoying the hell out of your company.”
“Even though I said you were pushy and arrogant? And don’t forget bossy.”
“Yes, but you also said I was hot and sexy.”
“I did, but if you must know, it’s really annoying,” she said.
He laughed because she didn’t look annoyed at all, and he stepped into her so that even a sheet of paper couldn’t have fit between them, palming the back of her head to protect her from the brick. He couldn’t stop himself from touching her. And now that he’d had her naked and writhing for him, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get her out of his head either.
Deep down he knew he shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have slept with her. He’d known this, but he’d wanted her so badly she’d become way too big a distraction to ignore. Stupidly he’d assumed that would end immediately after.