At Peace

  He felt it start for her, her cunt spasmed, sucking him deeper and that felt so fucking good, he had no choice but to let go so he did and he experienced, for the first time, sharing an orgasm simultaneously with a partner.

  It was outstanding.

  When he was done, he gave her his full weight and only shifted to a forearm when he heard her breath go heavy.

  “Joe –”

  Before he thought about what he was doing, his head came up and his eyes locked on hers in the dark.

  “You even think of tellin’ me you’re goin home, I swear to Christ –”

  Her fingers came to his lips just like he saw her do to Keira at Colt and Feb’s barbeque.

  “Baby, relax,” she whispered. “I was just gonna tease you about tearing my underwear.”

  He felt something contract in the left side of his chest, something he didn’t get. It wasn’t exactly painful but it was strong enough that it made itself known. His fingers curled around her wrist and he pulled her hand away.

  “I’ll buy you another pair.”

  “I don’t need another pair.” Her thighs, still at his sides, pressed deeper. “Anyway, it’s worth the loss to have that memory. Big, bad, scary Joe Callahan, security to the stars, losing control and ripping away my underwear.”

  He pushed his hips into her and he heard her suck in breath.

  “Not a big fan of bein’ teased, buddy.”

  Her arms tightened around him and she whispered, “Then whoever did it to you wasn’t doin’ it right.”

  Cal didn’t reply and she gave him another squeeze of her arms.

  “We got about an hour, Joe, I need to sleep.”

  He again didn’t reply but he pulled out and righted her in the bed. He tugged off his jeans, pulled her key out of the pocket, putting it on the nightstand and tossed the jeans aside. Then he stretched out beside her and yanked the covers over them. She settled into him, wrapping a leg around his thigh, her arm around his gut and setting her cheek to his shoulder.

  He stared at the dark ceiling and moved his fingers on her hip and ass until he felt her relax into him.

  He thought she was asleep when she mumbled, “You okay, honey?”

  She meant Bonnie.

  He closed his eyes and his hand palmed her ass.

  “Go to sleep, Vi.”

  “All right,” she whispered on a weak squeeze of her arm.

  He felt sleep claim her and he knew he needed to be shot of her. He needed this done. He shouldn’t have started it up again, even with her getting the way it was, he should never have fucking started it again.

  But he did and even knowing he should end it, he had no intention of doing that.

  None whatsoever.

  * * * * *

  She slid away from him and his eyes opened as he felt her body leave his bed.

  He looked at the clock; it was six forty-seven.

  Fuck. They should have set the alarm, they’d overslept.

  She was hurrying, standing at the side of the bed, her hands on his tee, ready to pull it off.

  “Leave it,” he growled, her body jolted and she twisted to look over her shoulder at him.

  “What?”

  “Wear my tee home,” he ordered.

  “Wear it home?” she asked, sounding confused and turning to face him.

  “Yeah.”

  “But –”

  “I wasn’t askin’,” he told her. “Wear it home.”

  “I –” she started, stopped, he watched her face get soft then she whispered, “Okay.”

  She bent down and grabbed her robe and nightgown and turned to leave.

  “Buddy.”

  She turned back.

  “Get over here.”

  “Joe, I slept late,” she told him.

  “Come here.”

  She hesitated then walked the three steps to the bed. He reached out, grabbed her hand and yanked hard so she came off her feet, her hands and a knee landing in the bed. As she came down, he dropped her hand and hooked his fingers around her neck, pulling her mouth to his.

  He kissed her, her tongue tangling with his in that way he liked, like they were locked in some kind of hot, sexy battle for supremacy, winner takes all and then he let her mouth go but not her neck.

  “You kiss me before you leave my house.”

  She was breathing heavy and she whispered, “Okay.”

  He touched his mouth to hers for the third fucking time in less than a fucking day.

  Then he said, “Go home.”

  “’Bye Joe.”

  “Later buddy.”

  He watched as she turned and walked across his room before he called her name.

  “Vi.”

  She whirled. “Yeah, Joe?”

  He reached to his nightstand and hooked her key ring on a finger then held it out to her.

  She rushed back, snatched the key from his hand, leaned down, fingers to his cheek and brushed her lips against his. Then she pulled back, grinned at him, he felt that contraction in his left chest again before she straightened, turned and disappeared.

  He fell to his back and his hands went to his face, rubbing his skin.

  And again he decided he should end it.

  His life was good. He didn’t need anything to derail it. He’d worked hard, he kept going the way he was, he could retire to a good life by the time he was fifty.

  He travelled a lot, was never home, hated the fucking winters in Indiana, the cold seeped into your bones. He had no idea why he kept the house there except that it reminded him of his Dad, some vague memories of his Mom and then there was the six months when Nicky was there.

  His beach house in Florida was in the middle of nowhere, two bedrooms, tiny, a twenty minute drive through the bush just to get to a grocery store, perfect. Vi’d hate it. He’d taken a woman there once, didn’t remember her name, blocked it out because the bitch whined for two full days and he eventually drove her and her suitcase out, dropped her at the airport and left her there.

  He had his job, his place in Florida, his plan for his life; he didn’t need Violet’s shit, her problems, her baggage, her kids. He didn’t need to compete against a dead man, a cop, probably a good man. A man he couldn’t win against, not only win Violet but her daughters.

  Then there was the time when she found out the whole story of Bonnie, his Dad, Nicky, how sick that all was, how crazy sick it was. He remembered, like it was yesterday, the looks on people’s faces when they saw him after it happened. Their shock, disgust.

  No, he needed to end it with Violet. He definitely needed to be done with her.

  He knew it and, taking his hands from his face and rolling to his side, smelling her hair on his pillow, he still knew it.

  He just had no intention of doing it.

  Chapter Eight

  Come to Jesus

  I opened the kitchen door to see, over the bar opening into the dining area, Kate and Dane going out the front door.

  “We’re goin’ to Joe’s, Mom,” Kate called on a wave, Dane waved too and then they were out the door.

  I stood where I was and stared at the door, wondering why Kate and Dane were going to Joe’s. I also wondered why my daughter casually informed me of that fact like she went to Joe’s every evening before dinner.

  “Yo, Momalicious, what’s for dinner?” Keira asked, wandering down the hall and pulling me out of my stupor.

  I closed the door behind me and entered my house, putting my purse on the counter and deciding then to wonder, for the fifty thousandth time since I lifted the ban on Dane coming to the house when I wasn’t there, if I should have lifted the ban on Dane coming to the house when I wasn’t there. This was something Kate had difficulty with now that it was summer and she didn’t see him at school every day so I’d given in but only after I’d given her an honest sex talk which left us both uncomfortable. Hopefully Kate more so or at least enough for her to just say no.

  Then I remembered that Keira asked me a question so
I answered her. “I don’t know, baby, what do you want?”

  “Fried chicken,” she answered.

  “That takes marinating,” I informed her of something she already knew.

  “No, I mean Kentucky Fried Chicken, not Momalicious Fried Chicken.” She grinned and leaned a hip on the counter. “After a hard day at the garden center, I wouldn’t make my fabulous mother cook fried chicken.”

  Oh shit, she wanted something.

  I crossed my arms on my chest and looked at my daughter.

  “All right, gorgeous, what do you want?”

  She put her hand to her chest. “Moi?”

  “Spill.”

  “Just fried chicken,” she told me then smiled wickedly. “And a cut-rate American Husky doggie that’s cute, white and super fluffy.”

  The dog. The damned dog. Since the barbeque all she could talk about was the two hundred dollar dog.

  “We’ll talk about the dog later.”

  “Mom!” she leaned into me. “The weeks are sliding by. They only have five puppies and they’ve already sold three.”

  “Give me more time to think.”

  “I can’t!”

  “You can.”

  “Mom –”

  “Keira.”

  We locked eyes and I knew I’d win, I always did. Keira had the patience of a gnat. In no time, she huffed and stomped a foot then started out of the kitchen.

  “Hey,” I called after her as the phone started ringing. “Why’s Kate goin’ to Joe’s?”

  “Dunno!” Keira called back and I grabbed the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey babe, get your ass down to J&J’s tonight,” Cheryl said in my ear. “I’m off and since your hot-as-shit, bad boy, player, next door neighbor is off limits and I’m feelin’ a hankerin’ for some man company, I need someone to go on the prowl with me.”

  Since the barbeque Cheryl had started to call me daily. I knew why. One, she was a nice person. Two, she liked me. Three, she knew it sucked my husband died and thought I needed a friend. Four, she knew it sucked that Joe had played me and thought I needed a friend. Five, she knew it sucked that Daniel Hart was messing with my head and thought I needed a friend. And six, she didn’t have a lot of friends and even I knew I was a good one, she obviously guessed I was, so she wanted me to be her friend.

  Feb had told me the day after the barbeque that Cheryl had asked for my number and Feb asked if it was okay if she gave it to her. I said yes and since then every day she’d called.

  “Cheryl –”

  “Not that you’d be my first choice seein’ as you’re hot too, so you might cut into my action, but Colt’s workin’ so Feb’s home with the kid. Jessie’s a fuckin’ loon and she scares me a little. Mimi’s got kids and Al’s out with his buds tonight so she’s in. Dee’s workin’ so she’s out and I got a night off and a babysitter so it has to be you and it has to be tonight.”

  “Cheryl, there’s something I haven’t told you,” I said, grabbing a soda from the fridge and heading to my bedroom, opening it with a pop and fizz.

  “What?” Cheryl asked.

  “Hang on, I need to get to my room,” I said quietly, even though there was music coming from Keira’s room, another boy band playing so she probably couldn’t hear me but you couldn’t be too careful.

  “Ooo, juicy if the girls can’t hear,” Cheryl said into my ear.

  I closed the door to my room, took a drink from my pop and sat on my bed.

  “It’s about Joe.”

  “Your hot-as-shit, bad boy, player, next door neighbor?”

  I grinned at the phone. “Yeah, him.”

  “What about him?”

  “Well…” I hesitated, “it’s back on.”

  “What?” Cheryl yelled.

  “Um…”

  “How long?”

  “What?”

  “How long’s it been back on?” Cheryl was getting crotchety with impatience.

  “Since the night of the barbeque.”

  She was quiet a moment then slowly, she said, “You. Are. Shittin’. Me.”

  “No.”

  There was a pause then a shrieked, “Why haven’t you told me?”

  “I was, um… he went out of town and I wasn’t sure that, um… when he got back that we’d still…”

  “Is he back?”

  “He got back yesterday.”

  “Are you still –?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I knew it.”

  “You did?”

  “Girl, a man does not get like he got when those flowers were delivered when it’s nothin’ but a convenient next door booty call.”

  “It’s still a booty call.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No, he made that clear. It’s just sex.”

  I heard a “poof” sound of expelled breath over the phone then, “Yeah, right.”

  “Colt got intense when the flowers were delivered too,” I reminded her.

  “Yeah, Colt also had the asshole of all assholes doing sick fuck crazy ass shit to him and Feb for twenty freakin’ years so he knows your pain like no other.”

  Cheryl did too, she was involved in that mess as well, not for twenty years but also not in a good way, not that there was a good way in that mess, except maybe the fact that the crazy guy ended up being riddled with bullets. She’d told me all about it a couple of nights ago. I’d been astonished that she’d pulled it together so fast. It had been over a year ago, but still, she was right. It was “sick fuck crazy ass shit” and she made it to the other side.

  Then again, Cheryl had shared other stuff in her life so I got the firm impression she was a fighter.

  “Your hot-as-shit, bad boy, player, next door neighbor doesn’t know your pain,” Cheryl went on in my ear. “He’s just goin’ all alpha male when someone fucks with his woman.”

  My heart lurched and I whispered, “I’m not Joe’s woman.”

  “Babe, seriously? Wake up.”

  “I’m not.”

  “All right,” she said, “tell me, how are you not?”

  “Well, he hasn’t asked me out on a date,” I started.

  “He fuck you?”

  “Um… yeah.”

  “That’s a date to a guy,” she declared. “Next.”

  I started giggling. “Cheryl, really, he’s made no promises.”

  “They never do.”

  “Tim did.”

  “Tim was eighteen, a decent kid and got his bitch pregnant. Only the not-decent guys, like Ethan’s fuckhead father, bolt when that shit hits. You lucked out.”

  I knew that, boy did I know that.

  “Anyway, what else?” Cheryl pushed.

  “You met him, I don’t know how he was with you but he’s pretty straight and he made it clear. His truck is in the drive, I’m welcome in his bed. Other than that, no go. I’ve asked him over for dinner, pancakes, even the girls asked him over for dinner. He never showed.”

  “He took you to the mall.”

  “He got shang hai’ed by Keira.”

  “Girl, you been off the market way too long. You marry a man, he’s lawfully bound to drag his ass to the mall with you. Your girl is cute and she’s sweet and she’s funny but there is no fuckin’ man on this fuckin’ earth who goes to a fuckin’ mall unless there’s someone he wants to be with while he’s there or there’s some shit hot sale on TVs. A sweet, cute, funny teenage girl asks him or not. And that’s the God’s honest truth.”

  I licked my lips and thought about last night. I thought about how Joe met me on the deck like he was waiting for me to come over, as anxious to see me after a week and a half as I was to see him. I thought about how Joe walked back to my house to make it safer for my girls. I thought about that whole sad, crazy, ugly drama with his sad, scary, drunk-and-high ex-wife and how he was and how he let me be with him after. I thought about how he wanted me to walk home in his t-shirt. If that didn’t make a statement, him giving me his clothes, even demanding I wear them, no
thing did. And I thought about what Cheryl was saying.

  And I could not go there again.

  “Cheryl,” I said softly, “I can’t go there again.”

  “Babe –”

  “No, I just can’t. Okay? This is what it is, all it is, and I’m cool with that now that I know what it is. I live my life and I’m not alone some of the time and the sex is fantastic and I can take only that. Something else comes along then it comes along. Joe’ll deal.”

  “Something else comes along, Joe’s fuckin’ head will explode.”

  I wasn’t sure that was true. I wasn’t sure that Joe wouldn’t shrug, say, “Enjoy your life, buddy,” and walk away. I wasn’t sure of that at all.

  So I needed to stay right where I was and not go there again.

  “Can we stop talking about this?”

  Cheryl was silent then she asked, “You comin’ out with me tonight?”

  I couldn’t go over to Joe’s until the girls were asleep anyway so I said, “Yeah, sure, sounds fun.”

  “It’ll be a blast. Meet you there at, say, eight thirty?”

  “Great.”

  “Cool, see you then and… dress down, babe, I don’t need the competition.”

  “Shut up, you’re gorgeous.”

  “I’m a dick magnet.”

  “We’ll find you a good one.”

  “Well, hopefully you can spot ‘em because I can’t,” she told me then finished, “later.”

  “Bye.”

  She hung up and I got up from my bed. Taking another sip from my soda, I crossed the room, opened the door and yelled, “Keira! You comin’ with me to KFC?”

  “Yeah!” Keira yelled back.

  I put the phone on its charger in the kitchen, grabbed my purse, Keira hit the kitchen and I hustled my daughter out the door. I managed not to look at Joe’s house at all as I got in my Mustang, pulled out and drove away.

  * * * * *

  I looked in the bathroom mirror and hoped Cheryl wouldn’t be pissed at me.

  I decided not to dress down but to make an effort. I didn’t know why, just that after KFC (with Dane eating the vast majority of the bucket which I knew he would and also why I bought an entire bucket), I got the urge to make an effort. I hadn’t done anything since before Tim died (except dress for his funeral) where I could make myself up, wear something a bit nicer and feel good about myself for awhile, so I did it.