“Are you asking me out on a date?” I asked moronically.
“Yeah,” he answered quietly, not making me feel like a moron.
I didn’t know what to do. I liked him but Joe had been acting differently and, considering that Cheryl and I hadn’t been there but for a drink that led into two when Mike showed and she knew everyone in the bar and introduced me to all of them so I hadn’t had the time to ask her about Joe, I didn’t know what to think of Joe.
However Joe had been clear what I should think of Joe and, seeing as Joe was pretty clear about most everything, I figured Joe would be clear if I should think differently about Joe.
And Mike was handsome, nice, funny, he had a great smile and a devilish grin and he thought I was beautiful.
Therefore I said, “Okay.”
“Remind me,” he said and I blinked.
“Remind you?”
“Remind me, tomorrow night, you let me kiss you when I take you home, to thank Colt for takin’ that case that hit my desk so he’s workin’ tonight and I’m here with you.”
I was wrong. Mike was handsome, funny, he thought I was beautiful and he was really, freaking nice.
“Are your kids hooligans?” I asked and he smiled.
“Yeah, terrors. It’s good they’re growin’ up and out of the house with their friends most of the time, now they can terrorize other people. Your girls?”
“Kate’s okay, except she’s wrapped up in a boy so she pretty much doesn’t exist unless his essence is inserted in the atmosphere. Keira’s a pain in the ass but at least she’s funny while bein’ a pain in the ass.”
“Sounds like teenagers.”
“You should be warned, Keira also listens to boy bands,” I watched him flinch and couldn’t help but laugh.
“My son Jonas is in a band. Drums,” he informed me.
“Ouch.”
He nodded and added, “Loud.”
“Ouch again.”
I grabbed my glass and took another sip, his eyes dropped to it and he asked, “Do you want another?”
I shook my head and said, “I drove here.” Then I leaned into him and shared conspiratorially, “See, rumor has it, cops hang in this bar. Wouldn’t be good for a girl to get tipsy and then slide behind the wheel of a car.”
He leaned in closer too and grinned before saying, “Yeah, I heard that rumor too and cops really don’t like that shit. But, if I buy you a drink, you’ll promise to get you and Cheryl a taxi?”
I nodded as I sucked on my straw, he watched my mouth then shook his head, muttering, “Flirting lessons, fuck me.”
“I’m not flirting,” I told him.
“Then sweetheart, you’re a natural.”
I didn’t respond because I watched as his eyes went behind the bar, he gave a jerk of his chin then tipped his head to me which I suspected was his nonverbal, man ordering of another drink for me. His eyes came back to me but then they jerked over my shoulder and he straightened a bit. He focused on something then looked at me.
“Violet, there a reason Joe Callahan is lookin’ at me like he wants to rip my head off?”
I felt my body tense, my chest expand and I whispered, “What?”
His eyes went back over my shoulder and I watched his frame relax as he muttered, “Must be seein’ things.”
I looked over my shoulder to see Colt’s stool empty, so was the one next to it. A bunch of people I didn’t know were huddled at the end of the bar. No Joe.
“I know Cal’s helpin’ out with your thing, he’s your neighbor,” Mike said and I looked back to him. “Coulda sworn he was just there, lookin’ pissed as all hell.”
“He wasn’t there?”
“He was there, now he’s gone. Man’s fast, always was.”
At the thought of Joe being there, I licked my lips then bit them and Mike’s gaze grew more intense. “There a reason he might be lookin’ at me that way?”
I stared into his eyes and remembered he was honest with me right off the bat. He deserved the same thing.
“Joe and I are complicated.”
“You call him Joe?”
“Yeah.”
“No one calls him Joe.”
I shrugged.
“How complicated?” he pressed.
“I don’t really know but I think, in the end, not very.”
“What does that mean?”
“Honestly?” I asked and he nodded. “I wish I knew. I don’t. All I know is, he’s being cool about the security thing, he’s helping to keep my girls safe and he and I are not very well defined.”
“Not very well defined?”
“Not at all.”
“Sounds like Cal,” he muttered and a chill slid across my skin, so cold I shivered. “You cool with that?” Mike went on.
“Not really.”
“You want defined?”
“I had clearly defined for seventeen years. It wasn’t perfect but it was pretty damned good. So, yeah, I want defined.”
“Not fuckin’ with you, Violet, swear to God, but Cal’s not about defined.”
I knew that but it sucked having it confirmed.
“He’s given me that impression,” I told Mike.
Mike’s jaw got hard and he looked at the bar as my drink was placed there by Darryl. He pulled out his wallet, slid a bill on the bar, gave Darryl a curt nod and I took the final sip of my last drink before I placed the empty by my new one.
“Mike?” I called and his eyes cut to me.
“Yeah?”
I took in a deep breath and asked, “How are you with defined?”
“I liked defined. My wife liked designer handbags that I couldn’t get her on a cop’s salary, our credit card bills were out the roof, month after month, no matter how much I talked to her about it. The house, not big enough. The car, not sporty enough. She married a cop, don’t know what she thought she’d get, ‘specially when she also didn’t think she needed to work. So her definition of defined wasn’t mine. But yeah, in the end, defined is a fuckuva lot better than not defined, as long as both people get where they’re goin’.”
“I like designer handbags,” I told him.
“Great,” he muttered.
“I work though.”
He looked at me.
“And, well, obviously, I like my daughters to eat and maybe, if I can swing it, my youngest to have the dog she’s always wanted and that’s more important than a handbag.”
He kept looking at me then said softly, “Yeah.”
“And, by the way, all women like designer handbags,” I told him, grabbed my drink and took a sip then finished, “Just to warn you. If you’re lookin’ for a woman who doesn’t like them, well… you’re kinda screwed.”
He grinned and asked, “They all need one a month?”
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.
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