His arm closed around my waist and he pulled me deep into him but he didn’t respond.

When I was inches away from dreamland, I heard him say, “Ava.”

I was too close to sleep to respond, I just pressed closer.

And I was sure I fell asleep because, I swear, the next thing he said was, “Missed you.”

And I knew that had to be a dream.

* * * * *

I was sitting at my desk at the loft trying to get some work done. Sissy was lying on Luke’s couch preparing to see Stella and The Blue Moon Gypsies by listening to the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club singing “Ain’t No Easy Way” one of Stella and her band’s coolest covers. The crowd always went wild when Stella sang that but her signature song was “Ghostriders in the Sky”. She ended every gig with “Ghostriders” and people always went nuts.

It was early afternoon and I was beginning to feel like a Rock Chick Fraud. Nothing bad had happened to me in a while outside of finding out Luke was in love with Jules (something that I didn’t even tell Sissy about because I knew she would give me Good Ava-esque advice) but no getting beat up, kidnapped, shot at or cuffed to a sink.

The morning had been relatively normal. That was, if you didn’t count Luke waking up in an energetic mood. Luke’s energetic mood translated itself into us having sex, during which he gave me the business in three different positions. One I’d done before, one I’d heard of but never done and one I didn’t even know was possible.

If you asked me which was my favorite, I couldn’t tell you. I liked them all. A lot.

He’d left me face down and drained in bed while he showered. I fell into a doze but eventually felt the sheet slide down to my h*ps then Luke’s mouth at the small of my back sliding up my spine to my neck.

“Gotta get to work, babe,” he said there.

“Mm,” I mumbled.

I felt him smile against my neck before his hands rolled me and he lifted me up until I was sitting and my chest was pressed against his. His hand went into my hair and twisted.

“Luke, I’m still sleepy,” I protested, not sleepy at all. I was spent, in a good way.

“I want a kiss before I go,” he demanded before he kissed me, not giving me a choice in the matter (not that I would have said no). It wasn’t hot, hard and deep. It was hot, soft and sweet.

When he was done I stared at him in a new kind of Luke Lip Fog.

“I always want a kiss before I go to work, Ava,” he told me quietly.

“Okay,” I agreed (I would have agreed to anything at that point), too much in a fog to let his words and their meaning penetrate.

So in a fog, still in my pretend happy place and having been given the business rather successfully (these were my excuses and I was going with them), I lifted my hand to his cheek. I let my thumb trail the sharp edge of his ‘tache that grew down the side of his mouth, my eyes so focused on watching my thumb’s progress (and studying his mustache and mouth) that I missed the look on his face when I did this.

It was really too bad I missed the look on face.

Before I could catch it, he kissed me again, this time it was hot, hard and deep. In a true blue Luke Lip Fog, he put me back in bed, covered me up and then he was gone.

Later, Sissy and Lucky came over and we headed to the gym, Santo joining our party at the entrance to Luke’s building.

I thought it prudent, so as not to earn another Luke Confrontation where I would be forced to bare part of my soul, to phone him the minute we settled in the car.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“Going to the gym,” I told him.

“I’ll send a man over.”

“No, I mean I’m on my way with Sissy right now.”

Silence.

“Lucky and Santo are with us.”

“Babe,” was all he said before he disconnected (and, I will note, he hadn’t stopped calling me “babe”, argh!).

At the gym Riley was in a better mood, back to the old Riley (mostly, he looked askance at the two, beefy, suited Italian-Americans following Sissy and I around the weight machines). I was relieved until he caught up with me on my way to the locker room.

“You okay?” Riley asked. His eyes slid to Santo who was standing three feet away before coming back to me.

I nodded.

“That guy, Luke, he still in the picture?”

I nodded again.

Riley’s jaw clenched.

Then he said, “The minute he’s out of the picture, you’ll tell me?”

Oh jeez. Here we go again.

I decided just to nod.

Riley walked away and I thanked my lucky stars he was not a tough guy, macho man, brutally honest, straight-talker.

Santo got close. “You’re hot, but this is ridiculous,” he told me, his eyes on Riley’s departing back.

Santo was not wrong.

On the way back to Luke’s loft, I called him again.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“We’re gonna hit King Soopers and then back to your loft. Don’t worry, Santo and Lucky are still with us.”

Silence but no disconnect.

I forged ahead through the scary silence. “You need anything from the store?”

“No.”

“Any word about Bobby?”

“He’s out of the coma, talking but functions are slow, they’re worried about brain damage. Can’t know ‘til the brain swelling goes down.”

“Shit,” I whispered.

“He’ll be okay.”

“What if he’s not?”

“Then he’ll be okay. Me and Lee will take care of him.”

I felt a weird whoosh of warmth spread through me. This was said matter-of-fact but I knew he meant it and for some reason I had the urge to hug him and then kiss him all over.

Before I could share that thought (luckily), Luke said, “Vance says you and the Rock Chicks are goin’ to a gig tonight.”

“Stella and The Blue Moon Gypsies,” I confirmed.

“I want you protected, not Zano’s thug, one of Lee’s boys.”

“Luke,” I used his name as a protest.

“Shit happens too frequently when the Rock Chicks do the town. Indy got shot at while performing with a drag queen. Jet’s sister caused pandemonium on her opening night at a strip club. Roxie was held hostage at a society party. Jules took down three bitches when one of ‘em insulted Stevie. I want you covered.”

I sighed because he wasn’t wrong. I’d heard all these stories.

“All right.”

“You get separated from your man, you stick close to Jules. Not many people can mess with Jules.”