At my words, his hand fisted in my hair then he used it to pull up my head and hold it steady for his mouth to take mine in a deep, heady kiss.

He settled us back to where we were and I stared at his shadowed chest in the dark.

Then I took a chance.

“I know it isn’t why you’re here but I don’t care,” I said to Joe in the dark, my arm moving around his waist, closing in, going tight. “I’m glad you’re here because I like what we just did and because I like you in my bed and because I feel safe and I feel my girls are safe. I don’t want you to go all Joe on me and remind me that isn’t what we are. I don’t care it isn’t. You should know that’s how I feel and I haven’t felt safe for a year and a half and you cannot know how much that sucks. So,” I twisted my neck and kissed his chest again then murmured into his skin, “thanks for makin’ us safe.”

Then I settled back, cheek to his shoulder and gave him a squeeze.

His body had gone still while I talked, still and tense. I felt it but I ignored it and decided to go for the gusto.

“And, by the way, I liked having you at my table and the girls did too. I know that isn’t what we are but you’re welcome there anytime you get hungry and I’m cookin’.”

“Vi –”

“Shut up, Joe.”

“Buddy –”

“I said, shut up.”

Surprisingly, he shut up.

And he didn’t do what I worried he’d do, retreat, not in any way. He turned into me, slid his knee between my legs, forcing my thigh to hook on his waist and he gathered me close in his arms as mine went around him.

He didn’t say anything, not a word, he was silent.

I fell asleep before him, I knew I did because his weight didn’t settle but his arms kept me locked tight.

But I fell asleep hoping that maybe I just gave him a little something that would make him feel less empty.

And I was hoping hard.

Chapter Twelve

The End

Cal left Nadia and went to his truck.

He didn’t f**k her, she wanted it but he wasn’t in the mood and he had to get home.

It was going to end with Vi tonight.

He knew it because when Nadia got dropped at his place, Vi, Kate and Keira were saying good-bye to Sam and Melissa in their front drive.

The timing couldn’t have been better. Tina was also getting in her car and Colt, Feb and Jack were just getting back from somewhere. They all saw Cal greet Nadia in his drive with a kiss, they saw him put her in his truck and they saw him drive away.

He’d looked through them. Tina looked smug; he could see it two yards away, the f**king bitch. Colt looked pissed, Feb worried. Sam and Melissa looked confused.

But it was Vi, Kate and Keira that hit him, straight in the left chest, a twist and squeeze so brutal it was a wonder he didn’t drop to his knees.

Kate looked shocked but in that way someone looks when they just got hit with a surprise attack, not expecting it and then, all of a sudden, they get socked in the gut, the wind knocked clean out of them.

Keira looked betrayed. It was plain on her face, betrayal and pain.

But Vi looked like he’d inflicted a mortal wound, face pale like he’d shoved a knife in her and twisted it, letting her blood leak out.

He just got in his truck and drove Nadia to her place.

* * * * *

The last week with Vi and the girls had been good.

He’d stayed home. After the gift had come, he’d had Lindy rearrange his appointments, telling his clients he had an emergency.

The gift had been an enormous, expensive vase. No card, no prints that came up in the system, just some random message from a dickhead who liked f**king with people’s minds.

Cal checked Vi’s front steps before joining her in bed at night and he checked them after he got up and went home in the morning. Nothing more.

But Vi had changed, after that night she found him on his deck drinking beer, she’d changed. She wasn’t unconsciously getting under his skin just by being Vi. Now, she was digging her way in.

And he was letting her.

He knew she went to dinner with Mike because she let him know.

But when he hit her bed, every single night for a week, she was all about him, all about finding that opening, tearing it wider, forcing more of herself in.

Fucking her had always been great but it got better. She didn’t lie when he’d made her make herself come and she watched while he did the same, she liked everything they did together. He thought he had her, she was all his when they were f**king but she proved differently. When he was in her bed, she opened something up in herself and there was so much of it flooding out, if he wasn’t careful, he’d get washed away.

And she talked to him in whispers either before he f**ked her or after or in between. She talked about work, about the side job she got doing up someone’s yard, about maybe starting her own business the next summer if that worked out. She talked about Keira’s new dog who was creating havoc in the house. She talked about the girls, their friends, the crazy shit they did and said, laughing softly against the skin of his shoulder, by his ear, her face pressed into his neck.

He laughed with her because the crazy shit they did and said was funny. And he liked the idea of her setting up her own business designing people’s gardens, by the look of hers, she’d be good at it. He liked hearing the hint of excitement in her voice, as if that was something she never thought of but something she really wanted to do, a dream that snuck up on her. He liked listening to her share pieces of nothing, scraps of life that somehow measured up to a full meal.

And he also liked that both Keira and Kate had taken to popping by his house when their Mom was at work, just to say hi or ask him to dinner or tell him they were going to a movie and seeing if he wanted to come (he never went, but then again, they didn’t figure he would, they were just using it as an excuse to talk to him). He liked it because, when they did he knew they were okay, just being kids having a good time over the summer and not touched by Daniel Hart’s madness. He liked it because, each time, they grew more comfortable with him, less hesitant, more sure of themselves, and they stayed longer and longer. They were opening themselves to him too, giving just by talking, letting him know they liked having him around.

He didn’t eat at Vi’s table, not after the pancakes, so no more family time that felt too good but was pretend. He was a stand in, not who they wanted to see in that chair, so it sure as f**k was not something he needed.

Except when he went over to have dinner when Sam and Melissa were there last night.