“You wearin’ jeans or one of your sweet skirts?”

Oh Lord, I wasn’t confused anymore.

“Joe –”

“Baby, answer me.”

“A skirt,” I whispered.

“Pull it up.”

“Joe –”

“Vi, pull it up.”

“Are you in your room?”

“Yeah.”

“Joe, I’ve never –”

His voice was sexy low when he said, “I’ll talk you through it, baby, now I want you to pull your skirt up for me.”

I bit my lip and tucked the phone in the crook of my shoulder then I shimmied my skirt up.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“It up?”

“Yes.”

“At your hips?”

“Yeah, Joe.”

“All right, buddy, slide your hand in your panties.”

Oh God, I was going to come and I hadn’t even touched myself.

“Violet?” he called.

I slid my hand in my panties.

“Joe,” I whispered when my finger hit my clit and the feel of it slid through me.

“Christ,” he muttered, his voice gruff.

“Are you –?”

“No, wanna listen to you.”

“You want me to do it alone?”

“I’m here, baby.”

I rolled my finger, my neck arched and a mew came out of my throat.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Think of my mouth there.”

I kept rolling my finger, thinking of his mouth there and moaned, “Joe.”

“Jesus, buddy, you already sound close.”

I was. This was hot. I’d never done anything like this.

And anyway, thinking of his mouth there, hearing his voice on the phone, it worked.

“I like your voice,” I whispered then my hips bucked and I moaned again before I breathed, “I wish you were here.”

“Not as much as me, sounds so good, baby, this I’d like to see.”

I didn’t reply, just pressed and rolled my finger and ground my hips into it.

“Next time you’re in my bed, you do this for me,” he told me.

“I don’t think –”

He cut me off to order, “Slide your finger inside.”

“I like what I’m doin’.”

“Do what I say, Violet, slide your finger inside.”

I stopped rolling and slid my finger inside. It wasn’t the first time I’d done it but it had been a long time and it felt nice.

“How wet are you?” Joe asked.

“Very.”

“Christ, I miss that cunt of yours,” he growled.

“Joe,” I breathed, feeling myself spasm at his growl.

“Make yourself come, baby.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

He talked me through it and I came, not loud, quiet, but it felt good and he heard.

After, I slid my hand out of my panties, pulled my skirt down and rolled to my side, curling my legs up and feeling strangely that this was one of the most intimate things that had passed between us and he was most of a continent away.

“When’re you comin’ home?” I asked softly.

“Soon, doublin’ up on meetings, I should be home by Saturday.”

“Good,” I whispered.

“How’re you feelin’?”

I smiled into my pillow and answered quietly, “Nice.”

“Right now, I’d like to lick your fingers clean.” Another mew slid from my throat and when it did he growled again, this time unintelligibly.

“Mom!” I heard Keira screech, my body jerked on the bed and I sat upright.

“What the fuck?” Joe asked in my ear.

“Mom!” Keira screeched again, this time closer.

“Oh my God!” Kate yelled.

“Oh God, Joe,” I threw my legs off the bed and started running to the door.

“Call Colt,” Joe ordered urgently.

“Okay.”

“Now, buddy, right now.”

“Okay,” I slid my phone shut and threw open my door.

Keira was outside the door, her hand lifted toward the knob.

“Mom!” she shrieked in my face.

“What, baby, what?”

“The door… she’s at the door.”

She?

I looked into the living room to see both Kate and Dane at the window staring out.

Kate looked at me and breathed, “Oh my God.”

I couldn’t hear her, I just read her lips.

“Come away from the window,” I ordered as I rushed to it but they didn’t move so I got in front of Kate and looked out.

Then I breathed, “Oh my God.”

Kenzie Elise was standing at the door. She was wearing a drapey, ripped up, sleeveless t-shirt that looked like it cost more than my couch, skinny jeans and high-heeled platform, shiny taupe pumps. Her long mane of strawberry blonde hair was out to there and she had more makeup on than I wore on my date with Mike.

“Do you think she’s got the wrong house and is lookin’ for Mr. Callahan?” Dane suggested.

She didn’t have the wrong house but that didn’t mean she wasn’t looking for Joe.

I watched her lift her hand and press the buzzer and I guessed, by the irate way she did it, it wasn’t the first time. In a perfect world, I would be in the position to ask Joe to install a doorbell that was louder, say, one you could hear while you were having phone sex.

She turned and her eyes fell on us at the window and she didn’t look happy when she’d turned and she looked less happy when she spied us.

I jumped away from the window and went to the door.

“If she’s lookin’ for Joe, tell her he joined the Peace Corps,” Keira advised quickly, she’d surmised the situation and clearly wanted to run interference on Kenzie’s bid for Joe, making certain I had a clean go.

I gave my daughter a look, hit the necessary buttons on the alarm panel and then opened the door.

When I did, Kenzie looked down her nose at me. She actually tilted her eyes, not her head, to stare down her nose at me from her towering height in her platform heels.

“Hey there,” I said, like she or any other famous movie star came to my door every day and like the last time I saw her she wasn’t practically naked and crawling around on the floor.

“Is Cal here?” she asked.

Damn. I knew she was looking for Joe.

“No, he’s in LA,” I told her.

“How do you know where Joe is?” Keira asked and I looked behind me to see Keira, Kate and Dane had all gathered close to my back. Keira was staring at me; Kate and Dane were staring at Kenzie.

“He told me,” I said to Keira.

“When?” Keira asked.

I would have paid money at that moment to have a less astute daughter.

“She calls him Joe?” Kenzie interrupted us with her question and I looked back at her because she sounded kind of pissed and when I looked at her she was glaring at Keira.

“Yeah, we all call him Joe,” Keira shared. “Or, at least, Mom, Kate and me do. Dane calls him Mr. Callahan.”

Kenzie’s eyes came to me and I was right, she was pissed.

“He doesn’t let anyone call him Joe.”

I opened my mouth to speak but Keira got there before I could.

“He lets us call him Joe, he likes it.”

I wracked my brain for a way to intervene and stupidly offered, “Would you like to come in, have a pop or a beer?”

She stared daggers at me and announced, “We need to talk.”

I didn’t know what she wanted to talk about, though I did know, whatever it was, I didn’t want to talk about it but I couldn’t exactly shut the door in her face in front of the kids because they didn’t know anything about anything and I didn’t want them to.

Therefore, I invited, “Okay, come in,” then I stepped out of the way.

Her eyes swept Kate, Dane and Keira then they came back to me.

“Alone.”

I looked into my house. There wasn’t much alone space in my house unless I took her to a bedroom which I wasn’t going to do.

Then I saw the sliding glass door to the deck. It was a nice night, not muggy, fresh and warm. The deck was perfect.

“We’ll go sit on the deck,” I told her and swung my arm out, showing the way. She sashayed in, all leg (or, more aptly, bony leg) and swaying hips and she walked through my house as if prolonged exposure to the air the girls and I breathed would contaminate her.

I walked behind her and ordered the kids, “Go back to your movie.”

“Mom –” Keira started.

“Come on, Keirry, let’s finish the movie,” Kate urged, her eyes on me, she grabbed her sister and started pulling her to the couch.

I threw my eldest a smile, saying a silent prayer to God in thanks he gave me one sane daughter and hustled behind Kenzie.

She pulled the door open herself and walked out, her pumps sounding on the wood of my deck as she headed straight to the wrought iron furniture Tim had bought me at an end of season sale three years ago. The furniture was fantastic, a circular table, wide, comfy chairs that rocked and a big umbrella. There were also two loungers. All of these had elegant, tailored gray pads on them.

She dumped her big, slouchy, designer handbag on the table without looking at me or my garden and started digging through it.

I closed the sliding glass door and approached her, stopping out of distance of her nails.

She pulled out a gold case, selected a cigarette, dropped the case back in her purse and put the cigarette to her lips, lighting it with an elegant, slim, gold lighter.

Then she let out of a plume of smoke and stared out at my lawn.

Without anything to say to her, I looked around my deck.

If I wasn’t at the garden center, at the grocery store, doing laundry, ironing, cooking, cleaning house, buying expensive dog food and water bowls, sleeping with Joe or just plain sleeping, I was in my yard.

My boss Bobbie gave great employee discounts and I took advantage as much as I could on our tight budget. I’d used some of the money my brother gave me to augment this but most of that I tucked away for a rainy day. But, even if I said so myself, I didn’t do half bad with my yard.