Games of the Heart
Page 77

Joe was going to take Mike’s back.
Vi’s body melted into her husband.
“You back off,” he ordered.
Vi’s body went stiff.
“What?”
“She knows about you, Mike, me. She was cool with me but Mike laid it out she’s not ready for you. She just lost her brother. Impression I got, she’s hurtin’ and not just knowin’ shit’s goin’ down with her family’s land. You and your girls, you all back off. You wait for me to give the all-clear.”
“She knows?”
“Yep.”
Not good.
“She lost her brother?” Vi whispered.
Joe’s arm grew tight and his voice got low, “Vi –”
“All right. All right. I’ll wait for the all-clear.”
She gave in but she didn’t like it.
Violet was curious, sure.
But she’d also lost a brother. Vi knew how that felt.
“Can we stop talkin’ about Mike Haines?” Joe asked.
She smiled again then whispered, “Okay, Joe.”
His arm got tight again, this time with intent, pulling her closer to him.
“Thinkin’ it’s time to make another baby, Vi.”
She stopped smiling but forced herself to do it. Inside, she still was.
This was because this wasn’t the first time Joe informed her he was thinking about this. Approximately one week after she gave him their daughter Angela, he started sharing these same thoughts.
“Already gave you one, Joe.”
“Want a boy this time.”
Vi rolled her eyes.
“I don’t think my womb produces boys,” she informed him.
“We’re gonna see.”
“Joe –”
He rolled into her, she saw his face and even in the dark she saw the determination.
“We’re gonna see,” he repeated firmly, his voice a rumble.
Yes, they were definitely going to see.
“All right, after my next period, I’ll go off the pill,” she agreed.
“Too late. I dumped what you got in the toilet before comin’ to bed.”
She blinked at him through the dark.
Then she burst out laughing but she stopped abruptly because her husband’s mouth came down on hers hard and, just like Joe, he did not delay in getting busy practicing to make more babies.
Though, truthfully, he needed no practice.
He was already an expert.
Chapter Twelve
First Kiss
“Oh my God,” I breathed then came.
Mike pulled out and I was no longer on my knees. I was on my back, Mike’s hands behind my knees shoving them high. Then he was on me and in me, thrusting hard.
Still coming, I swung my legs in and circled his shoulders with my arms.
He buried his face in my neck and I listened to his noises as I held on tight.
Then he planted himself and I felt his teeth sink into my neck.
Nice.
I held him. I felt him. I smelled him. I accommodated him. I listened to him breathe.
Then his head came up and his hot, dark eyes looked into mine.
“I love lunch,” I whispered.
Mike grinned.
Then his head dropped and he kissed me.
*
I was at my wheel, my music on, the barn doors open so I could see the lane and anyone who might be driving down it.
It was Thursday afternoon.
As far as I knew, Debbie was gone.
I definitely knew Dad was ticked.
I’d called Dad and Dad had called Debbie in an attempt to sort her shit out. She’d given him the same song and dance about looking out for the boys. Seeing right through this, Dad became livid.
Needless to say, he and Mom were closing things down and driving up. They were going to be there Monday. Monday night, family meeting with Mike and his kids at the table.
When I called Dad, I came clean therefore Dad received the lowdown. Mike was in my life. I’d helped his daughter bake a birthday cake. Mike was taking my back with Debbie.
Imparting this news, I was prepared for anything. Dad was a Dad. In other words, the kind of Dad who, no matter my age and no matter the guy, that guy would have to prove himself good enough for me.
This had never happened and Dad had met a few of my past guys.
Seeing as I was telling him about one he already knew and the reasons he already knew him, this could go either way.
What I got was a muttered, “Oh, thank Christ.”
Although I was prepared for it to go either way, still, that surprised me.
“What?” I asked.
“Good family. Decent parents. Decent job. Decent house. What I hear, good father. Good friend to your brother. Stupidest thing in a long line of stupid things your sister did was let that boy slip through her fingers. Glad one of my daughters is smart enough not to let a good man get away.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird?” I asked quietly.
“God’s honest truth, she’s made me angry more than once in my life, this shit, angrier than ever,” Dad replied. “But I love her. She’s my daughter. Sayin’ that, had no clue what Mike was doin’ with her. Didn’t need to be a clairvoyant to see that boy was happy eatin’ pancakes at Frank’s when he was seven, seventeen and would be doin’ the same thing when he was seventy. Your sister likes croissants better than Hilligoss. Those two didn’t fit. You. Now, that I can see.”
If Dad had no clue, he was in denial. Then again, if he knew Mike did Debbie when she was fifteen, he might not be so hot on him for me. I wouldn’t have shared this information anyway but this was an added incentive not to.
Instead I just whispered, “Thanks Dad.”
“Still, he jerks you around, I’ll kick his ass.”
I smiled and with that, the difficult part was done.
I didn’t want to call Dad but once it was done I realized Mike was right. I should have done it earlier. It was good to know him and Mom were coming up just because I liked the idea of them being there. I liked it better because they were both good with the boys. But I liked it best that, after that scene with Debbie, I had more of what Mike called “firepower”.
I figured I was going to need it.
Mike and my lunchtime specials the last three days were about fast sex, fantastic orgasms, quick cuddling but not a lot of conversation. With his work, his schedule and his kids and me wanting to be with the boys in the evenings so they wouldn’t be alone with their thoughts and without their Mom, these opportunities didn’t come often. We whispered goodnights to each other over the phone but this didn’t last long either. He had to get up and hunt bad guys. I had to get up, exercise horses and make pottery. And he might have a long hall separating his room from his kids’, but I was smack next to Kirby’s room, across from Finley’s and I knew from growing up there the walls were thin.