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 fucked 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.
And after we both climaxed, when all four of my limbs were wrapped around him and he was kissing me softly while gliding in and out of me, I realized that Joe Callahan just made love to me. For the first time, he didn’t fuck me, he made love to me.
Honestly, I couldn’t say which was better, they were both fantastic, but it was a beautiful and welcome, albeit confusing change.
I didn’t think he had it in him and it made matters far, far worse knowing he did.
“I’ve gotta get home,” I whispered against his mouth.
“I know,” he whispered back.
I ran a hand through his hair and down his scarred cheek, my fingers halting there but my thumb gliding along his lower lip.
“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.