Games of the Heart (57 page)

“Had the talk with the kids.”

Silence then, “Oh shit, really?”

She knew what he was saying. He’d told her last night he was going to do it.

“Yeah.”

More silence then, “Uh…you gonna clue me in or are you gonna make me have a nervous breakdown?”

“How do you feel about moving in?”

This got him a whispered, “What?”

It was a good whisper. A happy whisper. And Mike liked it a fuckuva lot.

“No’s idea,” Mike shared. “He’s concerned about the bathroom situation at the Holliday farm. Clarisse is worried about you living out of a suitcase.”

This bought him more silence then he heard her sweet, musical laughter.

When it started dying down, Mike gave it to her.

“Try-outs,” he said softly. “The kids did not blink when I mentioned you spending the night and like I said, you moving in was their idea. Still, it’s a big change for you, me and them. You move in this weekend, we try it out. Keep our finger on the pulse of where everyone is. We need to step back, we’ll reconsider and deal. You in?”

 
“My freshman year, Debbie forced me to try out for the volleyball team. She said I needed focus and the discipline of athletics. I totally failed. I was ousted in the first cut.”

Mike said nothing.

“Bet I’ll be better at this,” she said softly.

Mike had no doubt.

“So you’re in,” he said softly back.

“Abso-freaking-lutely,” she replied.

“Pack your bags, Angel, this shit goes down tomorrow night,” Mike ordered.

“I’m all over it, honey.”

Mike smiled. It was a happy smile. And it felt fucking great.

“Mike?” Dusty called.

“Still here,” Mike told her.

“I love your kids,” she whispered.

Mike closed his eyes. No smile. But what he was feeling was still fucking happy.

He opened his eyes. “Good,” he whispered back. Then, “I gotta hit the road.”

“I gotta start packing.”

His smile came back.

“Later, darlin’.”

“Later, honey.”

Mike hit the button on his phone.

Then he walked to hall, gave his dog one last rubdown then he hit the garage still smiling.

* * * * *

I had my purse and a carryon over my shoulder, one of my smaller suitcases in my hand. Mike was following me with two of my big suitcases. Layla was dashing between the both of us, panting, clearly ecstatic. She was either happy because she was a dog and life in general was just plain good or she understood the concept of suitcases and she liked company. Whatever, she was excited so I was glad she was right there with me.

I barely started packing yesterday before Kirby started moving back into his room. He’d called his good-bye fifteen minutes ago from his bedroom.

When I left, Fin, who helped Mike, Dad and me with my suitcases and boxes, was standing in the foyer of our house grinning at me, his face knowing.

Mom and Dad were exchanging glances wishing I was twenty years younger so they could lecture me on moving in with a man out of wedlock because they knew at my age they absolutely could not.

Rhonda was biting her lip and giving me looks. I had no idea what this meant but then again, all the time I’d spent with her in my life and especially recently, I had no idea how Rhonda’s head worked.

Mike had shared with the kids when they got home last night this was happening. That meant today I received fourteen (yes, fourteen) excited texts from Rees about how she was happy another girl was moving in. Then about how we could share makeup. Then she asked if she could borrow my clothes. Then she asked if we were going to bake another cake because she wanted to make one for Fin. And this went on.

I got one text from No that said, “Yo. Cool. Moving in. See u Sun. Ur on schedule. U vac and dust this wk. L8r.”

So clearly Mike hadn’t lied. They were cool with it. Rees got a new wardrobe and No got another week of being lazy before he had to do chores.

Both worked for me.

I hit the room and dumped my carryon on the bed and my bag beside it. Mike dumped my bags on the floor next to the one I’d dropped. Then he tagged my neck, pulled me to him and brushed his mouth against mine.

When he lifted away he muttered, “Haulin’ for you is done. You settle in. Cleared some drawers and shifted stuff in the closet. You’re good to go. I’ll go get your other bags and take your boxes down to the basement. Then we’ll order Shanghai Salon. I’ll grab the menu.”

Then he let me go and walked out of the room.

I watched him do it, liking the way he moved. His body was long and lean, his limbs loose. Even when he was younger, I liked the way Mike moved. There was a confidence to it, an easiness. I used to love to watch him play basketball, I never missed one of his games. I even begged and pleaded with my Dad to take me to away games just so I could watch Mike move.

I drew in breath and looked around the room.

My house in Texas was awesome, the rooms big, the windows huge.

But this room was way bigger, so was the closet and the bathroom off Mike’s room was a woman’s dream. It even had a sunken oval tub. Heaven. The balcony far from sucked and I loved it that I could see my family’s farm from there. It was like I was still home but without the hassle of living with five other people sharing one bathroom. I had a closet which I hadn’t had even in the guest room since Rhonda had a bunch of stuff packed in there. I got a room that smelled like Mike’s aftershave. And I got to sleep in a big, six thousand dollar bed with Mike.

My eyes glided through the room, taking it in. Layla had followed her Dad so I was alone. I had a moment to savor it, so I took it.

Then my eyes hit on them and I froze.

On the nightstand next to what was my side of the bed when I was with Mike there was a bouquet of roses. The deepest, richest red mixed with the deepest richest peach. The peach was a peach so deep I’d never seen anything like it. The bouquet was huge. There had to be a dozen of each. Long-stemmed but the blooms had been arranged close in a vivid, velvety dome.

Woodenly, my eyes never leaving them, I walked toward them because out of the blooms stuck a white card. And on the outside of the card it said,
Dusty.

I lifted my hand and grabbed the card. The paper of the envelope was expensive, thick. I flipped it open and pulled out the card inside. No picture. Nothing. It was just white and had a line embossed around the edges.

In Mike’s scrawl in black ink it said,
Welcome home, Angel.

I stared at the black scrawl then I heard Layla’s dog tags jingling and I knew Mike was coming back. So I lifted my head and aimed my eyes at the double doors that led to his room.

He walked in carrying two more suitcases.

I stood there. Still. Frozen. Looking at the most handsome man I’d ever seen in my life. The man I fell in love with when he was still mostly a boy. The man who raised two great kids against the odds. The man who kept the streets of my hometown safe. The only man outside my brother and father who even tried to take care of me, he did it in a way that was beautiful, precious, so I let him.

The man who made me happy.

The man who was happy being with me.

Mike’s eyes came to me, they dropped to the card in my hand but he didn’t miss a step and took the new bags next to the ones he’d already brought up. Then he dropped them to the floor.

Then he held my eyes and noted, “You aren’t unpacking.”

“I love you,” I whispered.

His face went soft and God,
God,
he was so
fucking
beautiful.

“I’m a guy,” he stated bizarrely then went on equally bizarrely, “I don’t live and breathe clean. But I prefer it. Have I just bought myself a life of pickin’ my way through your jeans, tees, belts, bras and panties to get to the bathroom?”

“I love you,” I whispered.

He smiled a beautiful smile.

Then he muttered, “I’m takin’ it that means yes.”

He didn’t sound the least bit peeved.

God,
God,
I loved him.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“You don’t do your week of vacuuming and dusting, No’s gonna freak.”

“I love you,” I repeated.

“And if his ass isn’t in front of the TV, he’s about music. Either he has it on or he’s playin’ it. Luckily, he’s good. Unfortunately, it’s constant. If you don’t like music, you’ll have to find a way to like it.”

“I love you.”

“And if Reesee isn’t with Fin, she’s on the phone with him or texting him. So you’ll have to get used to having half her attention at all times, including when Fin is here.”

“I love you.”

“My hours are erratic, honey. My job isn’t nine to five. I know bein’ with me for a while, you’ve experienced that but livin’ here, you’ll be livin’ it. You’ll need to get used to that too.”

“I love you.”

“You get Layla’s friendly. What you don’t get but will, and that’ll be constant too, is Layla’s
friendly.
She’s entirely unable to be on her own. She gets that when we’re all gone and she doesn’t like it. She makes sure we know it when we get home. I don’t want her to beg ever but especially when people are eating. The kids never got this concept so they’re always givin’ her shit. So she begs. I’ve given up. You’re free to eat what you want or share with the dog. I’ll leave that up to you.”

“I love you.”

Mike held my eyes.

Then he whispered, “I know.”

“I’m not gonna cry,” I told him softly.

“Don’t,” he told me softly back.

“I’m gonna unpack,” I decided.

“Good,” he replied.

“Then we’re gonna eat Chinese,” I informed him of something that was his decision in the first place.

“Yeah, we are.”

“Then we’re gonna break in the bathtub.”

His eyes flashed and he repeated in a growly voice that shot straight through to “Little Dusty”, “Yeah, we are.”

I smiled at him.

Then I put the card on the nightstand knowing as soon as I had a moment, I was going to find a place to keep it so it would be safe. Forever.

Then I reached out, tagged my carryon and dragged it across the bed to me.

“Dusty?” I heard Mike call and I looked to the doors to see him and Layla there, Layla panting, ready for their trip back down the stairs to Mike’s SUV.

“Yeah, honey?” I asked.

“I love you too,” he whispered then he turned and walked down the hall.

I deep breathed. Then I did it some more.

Then, when I had my shit together, I zipped open the carryon and started to unpack.

* * * * *

 
“Shit, fuck, Jesus,” Mike muttered about a half a second after we entered J&J’s Saloon.

I looked at him, confused.

He’d been in a good mood. It was Saturday night. My bags were unpacked. I hadn’t yet tossed any clothes on the floor. We’d had Chinese the night before. We’d broken in the tub. It totally serviced two full grown adults and it did it splendidly. I performed my “I’m glad I’m living with you” by waking Mike up that morning super early with my mouth wrapped around his cock. He liked it, maybe better than I liked the roses (but just barely). As was his way, he took over. I liked that better even than the roses (but just barely). Then I’d dragged his ass to Hilligoss and made him let me buy. This took a while and the line behind us got a little irked. Mike gave in when I dug in to the point some guy called out, “Seriously? I can smell ‘em. This is torture.” We ate donuts at his kitchen table (not including the one I snarfed in the car). We went to the grocery store. We came home and put the groceries away together. We had lunch together. We had more sex. We made dinner together. We ate it together.

And now we were at J&J’s.

Life was good. His kids wanted me in his house and he did too. I was in his house. Dad was around, helping me, Fin and Kirb to prepare the fields for planting. Debbie hadn’t pulled anything recently. Beau had not called. Fin hadn’t gotten into any fisticuffs keeping scumbag kids away from his girl who happened to be the most beautiful girl in the world and Mike’s daughter. Mike had not heard from Audrey. And, with IMPD, he’d long since solved the case of the person who was burgling The ‘Burg.

Now he looked unhappy.

“What’s up?” I asked.

Mike put a hand to the small of my back and guided me to the end of the bar closest to the door. It was Saturday night, still relatively early, but the place was busy.

“I’m rethinkin’ this,” he muttered as we got to the bar.

“Why?” I asked.

“That’s why,” he answered, his eyes pointed at something across the room and I looked that way.

There were two female bartenders. One I vaguely recognized as February Owens now Colton. The other was a blonde who was really very pretty but also kind of slutty. Still, she worked it. Neither of them had been there the last time Mike and I had hit J&J’s. That time the bar was worked by Feb’s brother Morrie and a guy Mike introduced me to as Darryl and the floor was worked by a woman named Ruthie.