“You’re scary beautiful,” I told him, unable to stop myself and his eyes went intense but he shook his head.

Then he said, “You’re just beautiful, buddy.”

Oh God.

My hand tensed against his face and I breathed, “Joe.”

“Go home, Vi.”

“Joe –”

He kissed me quiet then muttered, “Get to your girls.”

I had no choice so I said, “Okay.”

He pulled out of me, rolled off and I rolled out of bed.

I yanked on my underwear, pulled on his tee from the night before (I was stealing that too, he wouldn’t miss it, he had a million of them), grabbed my dress, my shoes, went back to the bed, leaned in and kissed him.

“Come home safe,” I whispered.

“Later,” he replied.

Then I forced myself to walk calmly out of his room.

* * *

Mike had called every day since our date. He didn’t say much, he was either busy at work and couldn’t talk long or he had his kids with him.

But what he said was nice.

Wednesday late afternoon, he called to say he had to cancel because he had to work. He didn’t seem happy about it.

I didn’t know what to feel.

Relieved, a little. Disappointed, definitely. Confused, absolutely.

* * *

Joe didn’t call at all.

* * *

But the person who hung up did.

They called every day then hung up.

It was when they called and Keira answered then they hung up that I got worried because Keira told me that wasn’t the first time and because Kate told me she’d had several hang ups too.

So I called Colt and told him about the hang ups and he said he’d look into it.

Daniel Hart had never called and hung up. He didn’t seem the type. And, for that reason, this scared me. There was no logic in being scared. It could be some kid from Kate and Keira’s school. Maybe Keira had an admirer who didn’t have the courage to say hello. Or maybe it was some idiot kid who thought it was funny.

But I got a bad feeling about it.

* * *

So I didn’t need to be freaked out by what Daniel Hart would do next and hang up calls from psychos or maybe stupid kids.

And I didn’t need to be dating a nice, handsome guy who made me laugh and laughed with me and who was good kisser, like Mike, while being Joe’s booty call.

I was a mother. I needed to set an example. And I needed to get my shit together.

Therefore, Joe being gone and not around to get under my skin, I decided Joe had to go.

It was brilliant and I loved it, even fighting with him, I loved it, as crazy as that made me. He scared me but he also made me feel alive and I’d never met anyone like him and even with Tim, I’d never felt that alive.

Tim was about contentment and happiness. We had our ups and downs, we fought, but mostly life was even and good. I believed in him, our life, our family and he believed in all that too and he never gave me any reason to doubt that he did. The girls and me, we were his world and he let us know it.

It was steady, strong and beautiful. It wasn’t the wicked ride on a roller coaster that was Joe.

But those roller coasters were always the best ride in the park.

Even so, I knew it wasn’t right for me and it wasn’t right for my daughters.

So he had to go.

* * *

I lay in bed with my hand curled around my phone and decided I needed to make the call to end things with Joe.

I lifted the phone, slid it open and scrolled down to “Joe’s Cell”, took a deep breath that hitched in the middle, closed my eyes tight, opened them and hit go.

I put the phone to my ear.

It rang twice then Joe said, “Yo.”

“Hey.”

“Buddy.”

I closed my eyes tight again.

I really liked it when he called me “buddy”, maybe even better than when he called me “baby”.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Um…” I could say no more. I wanted to… no, I didn’t want to, I needed to… but I couldn’t.

There was a hesitation then, softly, “Baby.”

Nope, I was wrong. I liked “baby” more.

“Somethin’ happen?” he asked, voice still soft.

“What?”

“He get to you?”

“Who?”

“Hart.”

Damn, he was worried about me.

“I don’t know,” I told him. “We’re getting hang ups.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “You tell Colt?”

“Yeah.”

“He didn’t tell me.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll call him,” Joe said then he asked, “What’d Colt say?”

“He said he’d look into it.”

“That all?”

“He didn’t go into specifics of what lookin’ into it would mean.”

“I’ll get specifics,” Joe stated firmly.

Yes, he was worried about me.

Okay, yeah, I liked him. Shit.

“The girls gettin’ the calls?” Joe asked.

“Yeah.”


“Shit,” he clipped, sounding pissed now. “They freaked?”

“I think they’re a bit worried, this is new, it’s never happened before.”

“Not Hart’s style.”

“That’s what makes it weird and scary.”

There was a pause then he said quietly, “You’ll be all right, buddy.”

“No alternative.”

He laughed shortly before saying, “Right.”

I didn’t reply.

Surprisingly, Joe did. “That why you called?”

No, it wasn’t.

“Yeah,” I lied because I chickened out. I’d do it later, in a note I’d put in his mailbox before Kate, Keira and I went on vacation (not that I had money for us to go on vacation but maybe I could sell a kidney or something). “You’re probably busy, I should let you go.”

“Vi, I’m drivin’ in LA. I don’t have a cell glued to my ear, they might arrest me.”

I didn’t think. If I did I would have quashed it. So, not thinking, the giggle slid right out of me.

Joe Callahan, rugged, tough guy, alpha male cracked a joke.

And it was a funny one.

When I stopped giggling, I told him, “I wouldn’t want you to get arrested.”

“Me either, been there, it sucks.”

This surprised me.

“You’ve been arrested?”

“Hard knock life, buddy, you saw my ex-wife crawlin’ drunk and whacked out of her mind on the floor.”

I blinked at the ceiling.

First he cracks a joke then he’s sharing. Before that, before he left to be away from me for two weeks, he made love to me, slow and sweet.

What did I do with this?

“I grew up, she didn’t,” he went on sharing.

“So you were arrested when you were a kid?”

“Juvie was my second home.”

“Wow.”

“Wasn’t home sweet home, buddy. Like I said, it sucked.”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly.

“I’m not, taught me a lesson, that’s life, you learn or you die.”

God, now he was being a sage and he was good at that too.

“Keira get her dog?” Joe asked.

“Next week,” I told him. “They aren’t totally weaned yet but we gave them the money and she picked the one she wanted. She’s over the moon, she can’t wait. She so can’t wait, we also have a dog food bowl, a dog water bowl, a dog bed in Keira’s room and four, enormous bags of puppy chow in the garage.”

“Sounds set.”

“That dog is so set, it isn’t funny. The thing is tiny. It’ll take him a year to get through that puppy chow. I just hope he doesn’t eat any of my shoes. Feb’s puppy eats all her shoes.”

I heard his soft laughter, something else I’d never heard from him and something else I liked, before he said, “Hang on a second, gotta give the keys to the valet.”

“Valet?”

“Yeah, at the hotel.”

“Oh.”

The thought of Joe at a hotel with a valet surprised me. He seemed more like a motel on a deserted highway type of guy, somewhere to crash where your car was outside your front door, ready for a quick getaway.

I waited, listening to what were sounds of Joe giving his keys to a valet then Joe said, “Back.”

I liked him being back, I also liked that he wanted to keep me on the line so when I said, “Hi,” I said it softly.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

“What?”

“We’ll get to what when I get to my room,” he told me mysteriously then continued. “Speakin’ of your garage, you need to start parkin’ your Mustang in there.”

“What?”

“Your ‘Stang, buddy, sweet ride. You should take care of it. You need to park it out of the elements.”

“I can’t.”

“Your garage is full, you should clear it.”

“No, I mean, the door won’t open, it’s jammed shut. Something wrong with the garage door opener.”

He said nothing for a second then he said, “I’ll look at it when I get home.”

I felt my breath leave me and I stared at the ceiling.

He bought my daughter a dog.

He made love to me.

I’d heard him laugh and crack a joke.

He was going to look at my garage door and he listened and advised when I talked about the girls.

And he wanted me on the line.

And, again, he bought my daughter a dog. And he did it because she lost her Dad.

“Violet?”

“What?” I whispered.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied but I wasn’t. I wanted to believe in him, I really did and he was giving me a lot to believe in.

“Where are you?”

“Home.”

“Yeah, baby, but where are you?”

“In my bedroom.”

“Where?”

“Where in my bedroom?”

“Yeah.”

“On my bed.”

“The door closed?”

“Um…” I looked at the door I’d closed to mute the explosions from the movie the kids were watching then I replied, somewhat confused, “Yeah.”