At Peace
Page 54

 Kristen Ashley

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“Thanks,” she mumbled and then headed down the hall.
I dropped my head and looked at my midriff through my arms thinking that could have gone better.
I was also thinking about what Keira said about Joe.
Then the phone rang. I straightened, happy to have something to take my mind from my thoughts, walked to it, picked it up and put it to my ear.
The minute I said “Hello,” whoever was on the other end hung up.
* * * * *
Mike called while I was at the garden center and told me that he got reservations at Costa’s and I should dress nice.
This was a miracle. I’d heard about Costa’s, a lot about it, and everyone said it was great (Feb especially loved it, she’d mentioned it more than once, but then I noticed Feb liked her food) but it wasn’t easy getting a table there, especially at short notice.
This was also nice, Mike thinking to call and tell me to dress up. He’d obviously had a wife and knew the drill (this was something I suspected that Joe didn’t know, considering Bonnie was his ex and they’d been over for at least seventeen years, if I read it right, though he could have five ex-wives as far as I knew). I was already panicking about my double decker night starting with Mike and ending with Joe. I didn’t need to worry about my outfit.
And it felt good, going home, getting gussied up to go out on a date. I’d never actually done that as an adult, it was kind of exciting and scary at the same time. I wore my clingy lavender dress that Tim thought was hot and my new high-heeled sandals that hadn’t until then made it out of the box. I liked having a reason to wear them, it felt good.
Even so, I’d kind of been hoping that the date would suck, which would make my life easier since I could call things off with Mike if it didn’t work out.
But the date didn’t suck. Mike picked me up and I noticed yet again he was very good-looking but this time I also noticed that he dressed well (blazer, shirt and jeans, casual for what was supposed to be a dressy night but he pulled it off because he had a good body, broad shoulders, lean hips, long legs, he wasn’t as tall as Joe but he was taller than me, even in my sandals and that was saying something). And the date was good because Mike was like he was at the bar, easy to talk to, he smiled a lot, he teased, he flirted, he laughed and he made me laugh. He was into me and made no bones about it, which felt better than having a reason to wear high-heeled sandals.
And the food was amazing.
As easy as Mike was to be with at the restaurant was as anxious as I got on the drive home, which was to say by the time I got home I was a wreck. First, he told me he would kiss me which meant, second, I had kids at home who I didn’t want to see me kissing someone and, last, I had a booty call next door who I also didn’t want to see me kissing someone.
But Mike had an answer for that too. He got out of the car and came to my side as I got out then he took my hand and he didn’t lead me to the door. He led me to the open stretch between my house and garage, out of sight of anyone but someone who really wanted to look.
Then he took me in his arms and he kissed me.
At first I was disappointed. Not long after, I realized that Mike didn’t kiss like Joe, hard and demanding right off the bat. He also didn’t kiss like Tim, hot but sweet and familiar. Mike was a stealth kisser. It started slow and soft and he built the heat. Before I knew it, his hand was at my ass, pulling me into his hips, his other arm was wrapped around my shoulders and I was plastered against him, feeling his hard body, his kiss, his arm and hand and what his tongue was doing in my mouth and I was feeling it everywhere.
He pulled away and I noticed my hands were in his hair, both of them, behind his ears and I didn’t realize I’d put them there to hold him to me.
“Not gonna thank Colt,” he muttered. “After that, gonna buy him a bottle of bourbon.”
“Mike –”
“Wanna see you again, sweetheart.”
For some reason I replied instantly, “Okay.”
He smiled and he had a great smile, even greater close up.
“When?” he asked.
“What?”
“When can I see you?”
“Um… when do you want to see me?”
“You’re comin’ to my house, Wednesday night. I’m makin’ you dinner.”
“Okay,” I said again and again I said it instantly, even though it was beyond crazy talk to say okay to dinner at his house after a first date and with Joe on the hook.
Then I stopped thinking of all this when he kissed me again. The second time, the fire only banked, he was able to build the heat a lot faster and he did.
Then he walked me to my door, came in long enough to meet Kate (who tried to be nice and succeeded), Dane (who thought Mike being a cop was “way cool, dude”) and Keira (who studied him like he was a specimen under a glass and not a very interesting one).
I showed him the door, apologized for Keira being a pain in the ass and he grinned, cupped my jaw and whispered, “Wednesday.”
I nodded, my knees a little shaky, and he left.
I told the kids not to stay up too late and went to my room.
When I’d closed my door, thrown my purse on the bed and sat down to take off my sandals, my cell in my purse rang. I pulled it out and the display said “Joe’s Cell”.
I closed my eyes, sucked in breath and felt like a slut. This was mainly because I was acting like one.
I slid my phone open, put it to my ear and said, “Hello.”
“Wear those shoes over here.”
“Joe –”
“The dress too.”
My stomach dipped.
“No,” Joe ordered, “lose the dress, just the shoes.”
“Joe –”
“Later, buddy.”
I didn’t know what to think about Joe watching me go out on a date with Mike. I also worried that maybe he saw us making out. I did know what to think about me making out with one guy and barely sitting down before the next one called and told me what footwear to wear to his booty call.
Nevertheless, I wore the shoes.
And, being a slut, I was glad I did with the way Joe f**ked me while I was wearing them.
* * * * *
The next morning before I had to go home and before Joe was leaving town, something new happened.
He woke me earlier than I had to get up to be home well before the girls would know I was gone and he woke me with his hands and his mouth. He used them like he’d never used them before, not hard, not demanding, not greedy but gentle, tender, generous, taking his time and he let me do the same.