However if Cheryl wore spike-heeled slut sandals to a backyard barbeque, I figured my effort would pale in comparison.
I finished my lip gloss and walked to my bureau, selecting jewelry and putting it on. Then I looked down at my phone.
Since I started my preparations, I’d looked to my phone about two dozen times, struggling with whether or not to make the call.
Then I snatched it up, thinking, fuck it.
I went to the phonebook, scrolled down, found the number Colt had given me and I’d programmed in as “Joe’s Cell” and I hit go.
It rang three times.
Then it was answered with Joe’s rumbly voice saying, “Yo.”
“Joe?”
Silence then, “Vi.”
“Hey.”
“What’s up, buddy?”
“Um…”
I wanted to know, why I didn’t ask my daughter and her boyfriend I didn’t know but I mostly didn’t because she didn’t offer the information and I was careful not to be too nosy with my teenage daughter but I still wanted to know.
“Vi,” Joe called in my ear.
“Why did Kate and Dane come over today?”
Joe didn’t hesitate in answering. “Dane wanted to know about what I do.”
“What?”
“Kate talked to me at the mall, said Dane was interested in my business. He’s a senior next year, he’s considerin’ his future.”
“Oh,” I muttered, thinking again that Dane was a good kid, taking time to consider his future and being smart enough to talk to an expert about it then I looked to the clock, saw it was already eight twenty-five and that I needed to get out of there so I muttered, “Well, thanks.”
“Violet.”
“Yeah?”
“Is that it?”
“Yeah.”
“Everything else cool?”
“Um…” I decided on a different ring then the one I put on, took the one I had on off and slid the other one on and said, “Yeah, sure, why?”
“You seem distracted.”
“I’m a Mom, we’re always distracted.”
“Know some times you aren’t distracted, buddy.”
I stopped moving and I felt a rush of heat between my legs, remembering those same times.
“Joe,” I whispered.
“What’s on your mind?”
Did booty call partners care what was on their booty call’s mind?
“Um…”
“Vi,” his rumbly voice was a warning. He was, I found, not fond of asking twice.
“Keira wants a dog.” I blurted.
“Come again?”
“Keira wants a dog. She’s always wanted a dog. Her friend Heather’s dog had puppies, they’re some kind of breed that costs a lot of money and Keira wants one.”
“So get her a dog.”
“They cost two hundred dollars, they’re an extra mouth to feed and I need vet bills like I need a hole in the head.”
This was met with total silence. Silence so total, it scared me and I stopped randomly pawing through my jewelry box and listened to the sheer totalness of the silence.
Then softly, Joe said, “It’s dog food, buddy.”
“I know.”
“That’s not an extra mouth to feed.”
“Um…”
“You hurtin’?”
“Hurtin’ for what?”
“Money.”
I swallowed, thinking this was definitely not booty call territory.
“We’re good.”
Again that utter silence.
Then he muttered, “Bullshit.”
“No, we’re fine.”
“We’ll talk when you get over here tonight.”
We would?
“Joe –”
His voice dropped low when he ordered, “Wear my shirt over, baby.”
My stomach flipped, not pleasantly, and I whispered, “You want it back?”
“No, wanna fuck you in it again.”
My stomach flipped again, this time pleasantly, and I whispered, “Okay.”
“Better than your nightgowns.”
“You’ve never fucked me in one of my nightgowns,” I reminded him. “You always take them off.”
“Skin feels better than lace, buddy.”
“Oh.”
“Those things are sweet, but you look better naked.”
“Oh.”
Wow.
He thought I looked better naked than in my nightgowns?
Wow.
“Anything else distractin’ you?” he asked.
It seemed to me, he wanted to talk. It seemed to me, he wanted to take the constant Mom load off my mind, a load I used to be able to share with Tim, a load I’d borne alone for too long.
That’s what it seemed like to me.
Then again, that was probably what I wanted it to seem like.
“Well, except for the fact that I lifted the ban off Dane bein’ here when I’m not and wondering if that was the right thing to do, no.”
“Looked in your house last night when I got home. The kids were all in the kitchen, makin’ dinner and laughin’. You were good, least last night.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
I liked the thought of Joe looking in my house and seeing the kids laughing. That felt good.
It felt good until Joe continued. “Still, he’s a teenage boy so every other minute he’s thinkin’ about gettin’ in her pants.”
That felt bad.
“Joe!”
“Bein real, buddy, you should know that and you should talk to her about condoms.”
“I’ve already talked to her about abstinence.”
Joe burst out laughing and I froze, listening to the richness of it. I’d never heard him laugh. I wasn’t even certain he could laugh. He was my hot-as-shit, bad boy, player, next door, security to the stars booty call. He was a serious, scary, rugged, sinister, alpha male. Men like that didn’t laugh.
When his laughter died down, I could still hear its timbre in his question. “Your folks talk to you about abstinence?”
“My mother is asexual. I think my father kidnapped Sam and me.”
“Everyone’s mother is asexual.”
“Not like my mother. She’s a robot programmed to one emotion, disapproval.”
“See you’re close with your Ma.”
“She doesn’t even send me a Christmas card.”
Again, there was silence, this time it was strangely weighty then he asked, “No shit?”
“No shit. She has nothing to do with me or my girls.”
“That’s fucked.”
“Yep.”
“You send her one?”
“Every year but only because I semi-kinda-like my Dad because he buys gifts for the girls on the internet that he can hide from my Mom amongst other purchases.”
“Your family sounds kind of fucked up, buddy.”
“I’m American, it’s the American way.”
“Got that right,” he muttered.
I wanted to ask about his family. I knew his mother was Italian and from Chicago but there were a lot of Italians in Chicago, that’s why they made the best pizza in the world there (outside of Italy, I was guessing, since I’d never been to Italy). When he spoke of her, he said “was” which made me think she wasn’t around anymore. He also had a murdered cousin named Vinnie that he was close to who happened to be in the mafia, pre-murder. This was kind of scary information to have and I was trying to ignore it, especially since Daniel Hart was involved. That’s all I knew.
But I didn’t think it was my place to ask and I had to get to Cheryl. I was now, officially, late.
“Joe, I gotta go.”
“All right, Vi,” I started to say good-bye but he went on. “I see Dane again, we’ll have a talk.”
I blinked then asked, “About what?”
“About respect.”
“Respect?”
“Respect for his woman. Takin’ care of her.�
��
I froze again.
Then I whispered, “Joe –”
“Figure you don’t regret what happened to you, you got Kate, but that shit goes down for them, it could play out differently, they should be clued in. Yeah?”
Why was he being so nice?
And laughing?
And interested in everything?
I didn’t come up with any answers because Joe kept talking. “Speakin’ of that, Vi, you said you weren’t on the pill and we haven’t –”
“I, uh… went back on after the first time, we, uh…” God, how embarrassing. “Anyway, no worries. It’s all good.”
How fun, telling my booty call I’d been having regular periods.
He cut into my embarrassment with a quiet, “Good news, baby.”
And why was he calling me “baby” more often?
I wasn’t complaining but did booty calls use sweet nothings?
I needed to ask Cheryl so I repeated, “Joe, I have to go.”
“Use your side door tonight, lock it.”
“Okay.”
“Later.”
“Bye.”
I slid my phone closed and stared at it.
He kept moving the goalposts for this booty call business. How could he say no to dinner but then talk to my daughter’s boyfriend about condoms and respect for his “woman”?
It didn’t make sense and I didn’t have the time or experience to stand in my bedroom pondering it. I needed to get to J&J’s.
And anyway, Cheryl would have the answers.
* * * * *
I wandered back to the bar from the bathroom, seeing Cheryl sitting at the bar, a fresh drink in front of her, a fresh drink in front of my empty stool and an extremely attractive, tall, dark blond man standing behind her. She was twisted in her stool, looking up at him and chatting.
I was not wrong about her outfit; she definitely made me pale in comparison. No man was looking at me considering the amount of cleavage and leg she was displaying. I’d actually seen two guys walk into tables because they were mesmerized by her flesh display.
I slid by a couple of people, having to get close to the blond guy Cheryl was talking to to get to my seat. He looked down at me as I squeezed by, I saw he had nice, dark brown eyes and was more than a little attractive up close and I slid onto my stool.
“Hey,” he said and I heard he also had a nice, deep voice.
“Hi,” I replied.
He kept looking at me and I smiled at him, waiting for Cheryl to introduce us. When she didn’t, I looked at her to see she was looking down to Colt’s end of the bar (which was the way I thought of it since Colt always sat at the last stool of the bar, closest to the wall, the office behind him). She was smiling a little, sneaky smile and I was about to look over my shoulder to see what she was smiling at when the man spoke.
“I’m Mike.”
I looked up at him and said, “Violet.”
“I know, Cheryl mentioned she was out with you tonight.”
“Ah,” I said because there was no real response to that.
I picked up my cranberry juice and vodka and sucked on the straw.
He kept talking. “You should also know I know you because I work with Colt.”
I put down my drink and asked, “What?”
“I’m a cop. Lieutenant Mike Haines.”
“Uh…”
“It’s okay, Violet, I just didn’t want you to find out later that I knew your deal. Would suck, we had a conversation, I didn’t mention it and then you found out I knew all about it. You’d think I was a dick, so thought it best to lay it out there.”
That was nice so I smiled and said, “Thanks.”
He smiled back and said, “Hope it’s not weird. Can’t imagine how weird it’d feel, someone knowin’ you before you know them. Don’t know how Feb handles it when the serial killer tourists hit the bar.”
Feb had mentioned this to me at the Christmas party at Myrtle’s house. She told me how the people who heard about her bad business and read about it in the book that was published came to the bar. It was quieting down but at first it was constant and she, nor Colt, nor anyone in town, liked it much.
“Unfortunately, I think she’s used to it,” I told him.
He smiled again and, this time, I noticed he had a nice smile in fact it was a really nice smile. “Yeah.”
“Anyway, thanks for bein’ honest.”
“Colt doesn’t talk, he just briefed us in case shit went down,” Mike assured me.
I smiled again too and said, “Well, glad you’re briefed.”
“Has shit gone down?”
I shook my head. “Since the flowers? No.”
Cheryl, who had been silent during our conversation, suddenly stood up.
“I’m gonna go visit the powder room. You two talk.” She looked up at Mike and said, “You can take my stool. I’m gonna cruise the room before I get back. Just in case Colt didn’t give you the full brief, she works at the garden center and has two daughters. They’re gorgeous, good kids. And she’s nice so, you fuck her over, you’re on my shit list.” Then she looked at me and said, straight out, “He’s got a son and a daughter and he’s single. His divorce was finalized two months ago, don’t know what’s up with the divorce, I quizzed Colt, he was locked up tight, Feb too. Joint custody. Haven’t met his kids so I can’t vouch for them, they could be hooligans. Beware.” Then, after sharing those tidbits, she clapped me on the shoulder, Mike on the arm and ordered, “Commence flirting.” Then she walked away.
I watched her move and I did it with my mouth hanging open. I knew it was hanging open but I couldn’t find it in me to close it.
Mike took her stool and leaned into me so I swung my eyes to him.
“Relax, Violet,” he put his hand to my knee, gave it a squeeze then took his hand away, “I’m all for flirtin’, if you’re up for that, but we can also just talk.”
“I’ve no clue how to flirt,” I blurted. “I married my high school boyfriend.”
He grinned and I noted he had a nice grin too, more than nice, it was devilish, then he asked, “Wanna learn?”
I laughed at the concept of Lieutenant Mike Haines, one son, one daughter, joint custody, teaching me how to flirt in J&J’s Saloon and said, “Sure, sock it to me, how do you flirt?”
“You want the hard core stuff or the subtle stuff?” he asked.
I picked up my glass and rested the straw on my lip, looking at him the whole time and decided to be adventurous. “Hard core.”
Then I used the tip of my tongue to nab my straw, sucked back some drink and saw his eyes watch my mouth do this.
Then his eyes came back to mine and he muttered, “You’re full of it.”
I swung my drink away and asked, “What?”
“The straw ploy,” he dipped his head to my drink, “advanced flirting,” I looked at my drink then at him when he finished approvingly, “the tongue, nice touch.”
I was feeling suddenly strange and I put my straw back to my lips, mumbling, “Um…” then I covered the fact I didn’t know what to say by sucking up another sip.
Mike went on. “Next thing you’ll do is tie the stem of a cherry in a knot with your tongue.”
I choked on my cranberry juice and vodka.
Mike put a hand to my back, which was easy to do considering I was leaned nearly double trying to take in deep breaths while still choking.
“Hey, you okay?”
I lifted up, placed my glass on the bar and patted my chest. “Just… went down the wrong tube,” I gasped.
“Take another sip, it’ll help,” Mike advised, I took his advice and he was right.
I put the glass back on the bar, looked at him and said hesitantly, “So, um… flirting question.”
“Shoot.”
“Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”
“Nope,” he smiled.
I smiled back when he didn’t answer and asked, “How old are you?”
“Fo
rty.”
“Okay, I’m thirty-five.”
He was still smiling when he said on a prompt, “Right.”
I carried on. “And you’re saying, at our ages, the knotting the cherry stem flirting trick still works?”
“Sweetheart, I’ll be a hundred and two and that’ll work like Viagra.”
Shit!
“Why?” he asked, watching me closely.
“Just that, I thought you boys got over that at, say, nineteen, maybe twenty.”
“Nope.”
I couldn’t believe it. I’d flirted with Joe the entire time we were at J&J’s together. No wonder he thought he could take me home and fuck me.
“Violet, you okay?”
“No,” I told Mike. “Not too long ago, a guy told me he’d pay me fifty bucks to tie a cherry stem with my tongue. I thought he was jokin’ around.”
Mike grinned and said, “Sorry, darlin’, he wasn’t.”
“Shit,” I whispered.
“You do it?”
“Yeah,” I told him. “He didn’t seem impressed.”
“Oh, he was impressed,” Mike assured me.
I guessed he was since he dragged me out of the bar not five minutes after, took me home and fucked me.
God, I was an idiot.
“You get the fifty?”
“Kind of… we had somewhat of a fight the next day and I threw it in his face.”
Mike burst out laughing.
“What?” I asked when I thought he could hear me over his laughter.
He leaned in. “The next day?” He shook his head as I realized what I gave away or what he thought I gave away which was, essentially, what I gave away and then he whispered, “Darlin’.”
“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”
“God’s honest truth?” he asked.
“Hit me,” I told him.
“You squeezed by me, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in this town since Feb came home. Now I think you’re cute as all hell but still beautiful. What I don’t think is that you’re an idiot.”
I bit my lip then I whispered, “Thanks.”
“Won’t pay you fifty bucks but I’ll take you to dinner tomorrow night, you tie a cherry stem in a knot with your tongue,” he offered and I felt my body still. “Though, you should know, you don’t, I’ll still take you to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Are you asking me out on a date?” I asked moronically.
“Yeah,” he answered quietly, not making me feel like a moron.
At Peace Page 18
