His lips twitched and he muttered, “Point taken.”

I grinned through taking another bite of pizza.

Then one of his eyebrows went up and he asked, “Out of body experience?”

I chewed but kept grinning and did this nodding.

He again burst out laughing.

I kept right on grinning as I watched.

When he stopped, I spoke. “The world is whacked in a lot of ways. One of them, I’ve noticed, is that a lot of times, good guys get stuck with bitches. And good women get stuck with morons. I’m not a cynic. I’m not one of those women who moans that there aren’t any good guys. I know a bunch of them. And they’re all with bitches. I don’t know why this happens but I’ve found my fair share of morons. I think I’m an okay person. I could probably do more for charity. Once, I was in a hurry and only had four things to buy so I raced an old, blue haired lady with a full cart to the checkout and got in by the skin of my teeth. I’ve gotten pissed off while driving and flipped people the bird. So I’m far from perfect. But I’m not a bitch or a psycho. Still, I attract morons almost exclusively.” I grabbed my beer and finished with, “Present company excepted, of course.”

Mike grinned at me.

I took a sip, swallowed, returned my beer and noted, “And you said your ex was a bitch.”

He stopped grinning but nodded to me.

“And you’re a good guy so there you go. Proof my theory is correct. Good guys get saddled with bitches and good women get saddled with morons. It’s the way of the world.”

“Honey, don’t wanna remind you of this but I stormed into your room after making a stupid judgment, carrying out a shit, knee-jerk decision and acted like a dick.”

“Right, and honey,” I returned, “you popped my sister’s cherry. Sucks but you two have a connection. She knows you and she lost her brother, used it, fed you a line of bullshit, yanked your chain and you acted on that thinking you were taking my family’s back. Debbie’s a bitch but the reason you came here wasn’t to be a dick. You were looking out for my family. Am I supposed to be pissed at that?”

“Uh…no, seein’ as if you were, you wouldn’t be lyin’ across the bed in nothin’ but a tee and panties and I like eatin’ pizza when all I can see is you lyin’ across the bed in nothin’ but a tee and panties,” Mike answered.

I grinned again and asked jokingly, “So, you’re saying you came here hoping to get in my pants?”

He grinned back and replied, “No, I came here to ream your ass to sort your shit out. Tapping that ass was just lucky.”

At that, it was my turn to burst out laughing and when I was done, I wondered if my face looked enthralled like the look on Mike’s smiling face when I saw him watching me.

My laughter died but I held his eyes when I whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what, darlin’?”

“Making me laugh in a way that felt good and real four days after my brother died.”

The light went out of his eyes but they stayed warm as he threw his half-eaten slice of pizza in the box and ordered gently, “Come here, Dusty.”

I threw my half-eaten slice in with his, grabbed my beer and went there. He took my beer, reached his arm out and set it beside his on the nightstand then he came back to me. His hands at my hips, he guided me to straddling him and when I settled my ass in his lap he kept his hands where they were. I rested mine on his upper gut.

I looked down at him.

He looked up at me.

“Darrin was proud of you,” he told me, still talking gently.

“I know,” I told him. “And he was a good husband, a good Dad, a good brother and I was proud of him.”

“You’ll always have that.”

“I know.”

“You got a job now, keepin’ him alive for his boys.”

I took in a fluttering breath.

Then I repeated, “I know.”

“Focus on that.”

I nodded.

He kept looking at me and I let him as I breathed deep.

Then he spoke again. “You’re right, Angel, life is whacked. But sometimes, things get straightened out. And whatever drove me here means I get the honor of bein’ with you while you deal tonight. So, it might have been f**ked what pushed me to seek you out but, you givin’ world class head or not, I’m glad I’m here.”

I felt the tears clog my throat but I pushed an, “I am too,” through them before I leaned down, gave him a quick kiss and both Mike’s arms circled me.

I swallowed back the tears as Mike watched then he told me softly, “I’m good, right here, not goin’ anywhere, you need to get that shit out.”

“Thanks, babe, but I’ve been crying my eyes out for four days so I gave myself a limit. I cried when Mom and Dad met me at the airport. I cried when I saw Rhonda. I cried when I saw the boys. And I cried after my big rant when you got here. I’m only allowed three. I’m already over my quota.”

“I won’t tell, you won’t.” He was still talking softly as his arms tightened around me.

I dropped my head, stuffed my face in his neck and shoved my arms behind him to hold him like he was holding me. I did this saying my thanks to God for not only making Mike Haines a good guy but keeping him that way.

“Tell me about your kids,” I mumbled, not lifting my head.

Mike knew my game and because he was a good guy, he didn’t hesitate falling into it.

“No is sixteen, close to seventeen. He’s into music. He plays drums, guitar and keyboards. All self-taught. He’s good. He’s got a garage band and since he also plays basketball, he’s tall, a good-lookin’ kid and he’s good at basketball, most of the girls in high school think he’s the second coming. My phone at home rings off the f**kin’ hook so I quit answering it and don’t even bother listening to the voicemail messages because they’re all for No.”

“No?” I asked.

“No, Jonas. Until he was fifteen we called him his name. Then he declared himself No. He thinks it’s cool and refuses to answer to anything else. I think it’s whacked but it’s harmless so I do it. His mother finds it annoying, juvenile and laughable and refuses. She also finds every opportunity to tell him it’s annoying, juvenile and laughable. Luckily, he only has to spend four days a month with her so he can cope with being called his real name that long.”

“This is good,” I muttered. “But don’t you have two kids?”