Later we climbed into the Mustang and went to Fulsham’s Frozen Custard Stand. Joe and I got cones, the girls got turtle sundaes. While we ate them, Joe and Kate sat side by side on the top of a picnic table outside while Keira sat on the seat by Kate’s feet and I sat on the seat by Joe’s feet, my back leaning into his legs.

I listened to Kate and Keira talk to Joe, Joe not saying much, Keira talking most but both Kate and Keira including him. Kate talking about her music and Keira talking about Joe’s house.

While I listened I noticed people looking at us. They didn’t stare but their curiosity was obvious. It was hot and muggy; we needed a storm to erase the humidity but hadn’t had one in days. Because of this, and summer coming to an end, school starting soon, the Stand was busy, tons of kids, some couples, more families. Studying our onlookers, I noticed Joe was the focal point of their curiosity, the girls and I too but not so much. It was clearly a sight to see, Lone Wolf Joe Callahan out with a woman and her two teenage daughters.

Again, this disturbed me. I couldn’t put my finger on why and I told myself eventually it would go away, people would get used to us and that bad feeling I got would fade.

We went back home and the girls went to their rooms and back to their new toys. Joe went to the fridge, opened a bottle of white wine, poured a glass for me, got himself a beer and we went out to the deck. He pulled the chairs to the railing and we sat, side by side, our knees cocked, feet up on the railing, sipping wine and beer and I figured, since I loved him, since we’d had a good night and since this was us, it was good and this was going to be the way it was, I needed to know more about Joe.

So I asked Joe questions.

He didn’t hesitate with any of his responses. Including the scary ones, such as him getting the scar on his belly a long time ago when he was a bouncer and some drunk guy slashed him with a knife.

At my indrawn breath, Joe murmured in a gentle voice, “It wasn’t deep, baby, didn’t cause any harm.”

I didn’t point out that it did, seeing as it left a scar. I just asked about the other one.

That one was scarier, seeing as it was a scar from a bullet wound Joe got while bodyguarding. He didn’t say who he was guarding, apparently this was secret information and if he told me, he’d have to kill me (though Joe didn’t explain it that way, he just said. “Can’t tell you, Vi, so don’t ask.”).

What he did say was, “After that, focused on the systems. Dyin’ young to protect ass**les I didn’t like f**ked with my plan for retirement.”

This was funny, Joe cracking another joke, and I laughed but I also leaned to the side, putting my head on Joe’s shoulder and dropping my legs so they rested against his. In return, Joe slid an arm along my shoulders and pulled me closer. The chair handle bit into my side but I didn’t care. Bobbie had some lawn furniture that almost matched mine and there was a loveseat-style piece so I decided, since I didn’t have to pay a mortgage anymore, and since I liked sitting outside with Joe, our knees cocked, feet to the railing, I was going to buy it.

While we did this, I thought that it was good Joe was wise and he had a plan for retirement. If he’d been gung ho macho, taking these jobs just for the money and the thrill and not thinking about his future, he might not be there, on my deck, drinking beer with me at his side and my girls in the house.

And I liked him there.

But I’d like it better once I bought that loveseat.

After the scary portion of the evening’s conversation was over, Joe got up and got himself another beer, refilled my wine and he came back. Then we made plans to ask Lindy to come to dinner so the girls and I could meet her and we talked about the upcoming visit from my in-laws, something Joe didn’t seem all that concerned about.

“They’re people Vi, they got two choices, they like me or they don’t. I deal either way. They’re good people, even if they don’t, they won’t make it your problem or the girls’.”

He was right, they had two choices and, knowing Bea and Gary, they wouldn’t make it my problem or the girls’ if they didn’t like Joe.

The girls came out and said goodnight, first Keira who patted Joe on the arm but gave me her usual kiss. Then Kate who gave me a kiss but didn’t touch Joe, she just said, “’Night, Joe,” to which he muttered, “Sweet dreams, girl,” which made her look at me in that startled way the girls looked whenever Joe did something affectionate but, startled or not, one day I figured they too would get used to being around an affectionate Joe.

Joe and I sat quiet for awhile and this would have been nice if my mind didn’t wander to Mike wondering what he was doing, wondering if he was okay. I was also thinking how much it sucked that our situation wasn’t one where we could shift to friends and I could call him, just to talk. I liked talking to him (amongst other things) and I didn’t like that I no longer could do it. He didn’t say that wasn’t cool but I knew in my heart it wasn’t. I was happy with my decision and I knew I’d made the right one. But that didn’t mean I didn’t miss Mike.

However, I didn’t share this with Joe.

Then Joe and I went to bed and I figured, both of us being in a mellow mood, having a good night, he’d feel in the mood to make love and I was looking forward to it.

He wasn’t. He was in the mood to f**k me, rough and hard, both of us on our knees, Joe behind me, his fingers between my legs, the fingers of his other hand working my nipple. I was mostly up, bent slightly, my hand holding onto the headboard, my other hand covering his at my breast and I was trying not to be too loud when he made me come. By some miracle, I managed this and luckily Joe had my neck to stifle his groan when he cl**axed.

After, Joe kept me where I was and stayed buried inside me.

“You got the sweetest cunt I’ve ever had, buddy,” he whispered in my ear, sliding out and gliding back in.

It wasn’t the most flowery compliment in the history of man but, from Joe, who stayed planted and was filling me with his big cock, it worked really well.

“I like your c**k too,” I whispered back and I felt him smile against my neck.

“Know that, Vi. Every time I f**k you, you act like it’s been years since I’ve been inside you.”

I twisted my neck to look at him and his head came up.

“You don’t have to be conceited about it.”

He pressed in deeper, heard my soft gasp and chuckled. “Baby, you don’t want me to be conceited, maybe you should stop doin’ shit like that.”