Cheryl put her forearms on the bar, her eyes on Mike, all ears. “What kind of nut am I?”

Mike looked at her. “The kind I don’t think is cute because I’m not sleepin’ with you.”

Cheryl smiled huge at me.

“He’s a good guy but he can be bad,” I shared, her huge smile got even bigger and she leaned toward me.

“Do tell,” she invited.

“Fuck,” Mike muttered.

“I mean, he can say it straight,” I explained.

“Girl, if I didn’t know that already, I’ve just learned,” she replied.

“This is true,” I mumbled.

“Right, so, now that I know I like you, time to get this over with,” Cheryl announced and before Mike or I could say anything, she turned her head and shouted, “Vi! Get your ass over here.”

Oh my God! No! Shit!

I looked at Mike and he had his head bent and his eyes closed.

“Mike?” I called and he opened his eyes and looked at me.

“Fuck,” he muttered then his eyes shifted over my shoulder and he sighed.

“Uh…hi,” I heard and turned.

There she was. Violet Callahan. And she was even more gorgeous close up. Worse, Jessie and Mimi had followed her down. They either started our way before Cheryl gave them the okay or they had the ability to dematerialize and re-materialize at whim.

“I’m Violet,” she told me sticking her hand out. I took it, her fingers curled around mine tight and she kept talking. “And, so this isn’t more uncomfortable for you and me, I’ll get it out of the way. I know you know about, uh…you know and obviously I know since I was, um…there so we both know. And that’s done. Oh, and I know you’re Dusty. And I also looked you up on the internet and saw your pottery. It’s pretty. So pretty I bought a bowl and a platter. Joe freaked because I spent three hundred and fifty dollars on a bowl and a platter. He said the most he’s ever spent on a bowl was twenty dollars and it came with four of them and a set of plates and he’s never owned a platter. But they were worth it, they were that pretty. And I’m not sayin’ that to get you to like me. I’m just sayin’ that because it’s true. And I didn’t buy them to get you to like me either. I bought them because I liked them. And Joe didn’t say that about them because he didn’t like them. I don’t know if he liked them. He’s not a pottery kind of guy. They came through the mail a couple of days ago and I put them out on the shelves in our livin’ room and I’m not certain he’s even noticed them. Probably not. But not because they aren’t pretty. Because he’s Joe. Oh, and I wasn’t internet stalking you or anything. I was just curious. It’s not like I read everything about you, though there isn’t much. Just your gallery page and –”

“Vi, shut up, you’re babbling,” Jessie cut in.

Vi jerked my hand she still held then let it go, crying, “Shit! I am. Sorry.”

“You had a thing with my boyfriend. It was intense. You still like him. You don’t want to lose him from your life. So you’re nervous. I get that. You aren’t the first woman I’ve known who’s known what it’s like to kiss my man,” I offered to put her at ease.

“Stealth kisses,” she muttered.

“What?” I asked.

“Fuck,” Mike murmured.

Vi’s eyes went huge.

“Sorry, uh…” Vi stammered and stopped.

“Stealth kisses?” I asked.

“Fuck,” Mike murmured.

Vi bit her lip.

I burst out laughing, slapping my hand on the bar while doing it and everything.

“Oh my God!” I shouted when I was down to chuckling. “I think of them as slow burn kisses. Stealth is so…much…better.”

“Fuck,” Mike murmured.

Vi smiled a tentative smile at me and said softly, “Slow burn is good too.”

I heard Mike sigh.

I ignored that and turned to Cheryl. “Four tequila shooters,” I ordered.

“Don’t forget me,” Cheryl returned.

“Right then, five,” I corrected.

“Fuck,” Mike muttered.

I looked over my shoulder and grinned at him. His eyes dropped to my mouth. Then he sighed again.

Then he claimed me, turning me into him and dropping his head to brush his mouth against mine.

When he lifted it, he said quietly, “I’m outta here. You need me, I’m down at the other end of the bar.”

“I think that’s a good call,” I approved, grinning.

His eyes swept the area behind me and he muttered again, “Fuck.”

My grin became a smile.

Mike’s arm gave me a squeeze then he got the heck out of there.

“Shots ready,” Cheryl announced and all the women reached in and claimed a glass. “What’ll we toast to?” she asked.

I looked at Vi.

“Stealth kisses,” I declared.

“Absolutely,” she replied.

I smiled at her. She smiled back.

We lifted our glasses and tossed them back.

* * *

“Cake.”

This was said in my ear by a very deep, very rough male voice.

I turned and my eyes hit a wall of tank top covered chest. They went up, up, up and I locked eyes with a bald man who, I had to admit, wasn’t entirely attractive. In fact, I didn’t get scared easily and, one look, he scared the crap out of me.

“Sorry?” I whispered.

“Cake,” he repeated.

“Uh…” I mumbled.

“As in, you owe me,” he explained.

“I owe you cake?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Uh…” I mumbled again. “Like, you’re saying I owe you money?” I asked, concerned he would think this because first, he was scary. Second, I’d never seen him in my life and third, whatever money he thought I owed him I knew I’d pay just because he scared me.

“No,” he drew this out like I was a dimwitted child, “like I’m sayin’ you owe me a cake with twelve layers and a fuckload of frosting.”

What?

 “Ryker,” I heard Mike say and I felt his chest pressed to my back.

Oh thank God.

Mike was there.

I leaned into him.

We were still at J&J’s. The drinking had progressed but I’d moved to beers since I didn’t want to get shitfaced too soon. As I drank and gabbed with the nutso women The ‘Burg seemed to both produce and attract, I understood with deep clarity why Mike had a thing for Vi. She was funny, she was sweet and there was also the fact I’d mentioned before that she was gorgeous.

Not to be conceited or anything but she reminded me of, well…me.

Except brunette with two daughters and a brutal history that would take most women down to their knees in a way they’d never get up. By her account, she pulled herself up, twice, and knowing that made me like her more.

She was like me even down to the man. Joe Callahan was rough around the edges, he had two scars that curved down one side of his face that only made him look dead cool and smokin’ hot and, unlike Cal, Mike had had his hair cut in the last month. But from all reports (these not only Vi’s but also from Cheryl, Mimi, Jessie and Feb who, with Cheryl, wandered to our hen pack when she wasn’t working) Cal was bossy, alpha, badass, protective and could be a pain in Vi’s ass. Not that Mike was a pain in my ass but I suspected when that happened (as it always did), Mike would be the same kind of pain in my ass. This being bossy, alpha and badass in a good guy up top, bad boy underneath kind of way, of course.

By the by, Feb reported Colt was also like this.

Eventually we decided to wander down to the men where Rocky had stayed and I got this since she had a brother who was a current cop, a Dad who was an ex-cop and she was used to being around the boys. She did welcome us and then joined our klatch after she introduced me to her husband though.

Taking in Colt, Cal, Tanner and Mike I was wondering why I hadn’t moved back to The ‘Burg years ago when the man Mike called Ryker came up behind me talking about cake.

“You know this guy?” I whispered to Mike, not tearing my eyes off Ryker.

“Yeah,” Ryker answered my question then he jerked an enormous hand my way and he went on. “Everyone knows me. Now you do too. I’m Ryker.”

I didn’t want to but I took his hand. He squeezed hard. I tried not to wince. He let me go.

Ryker looked over my shoulder at Mike.

“Nice hair,” he noted and I was thinking he wasn’t talking about Mike’s.

“Ryker,” Mike said in a very low voice that sounded like a warning.

“Pretty voice,” Ryker went on.

“Ryker,” Mike repeated.

Ryker grinned and if I was scared before, I was really scared now.

“Seriously great rack,” he commented.

I blinked.

“You’re done,” Mike stated and his voice didn’t sound like anything. It was, quite simply, a warning.

But I was thinking that I didn’t want Mike to have a smackdown with this guy. I figured Mike could take care of himself. I’d seen him in action with Beau and he took Beau down to his knees in a split second and kept him there with no apparent effort. But this guy had two sleeves of tattoos. He was tall. He had a lot of bulky muscle. He had no hair at all. It was early April, there was still a nip in the air and he was wearing only a tank top with no coat in evidence. He had a knife on his belt. And even his smiles were terrifying.

Before Ryker could say anything to piss Mike off (more), I cut in.

“Um, please don’t have a smackdown with my boyfriend. We just moved in together and when I say ‘just’ I mean, like, last night. Drunk sex for us is awesome. I’m half-drunk. I intend to get loaded. You have a smackdown with my boyfriend, you might be tempted to shank him with that knife. This would mean I might miss out on drunk sex and that would be upsetting.”

Ryker stared at me and I quailed hoping I didn’t do it visibly.