Mike said nothing.

“Babe –” I started at the same time he said, “Fuck.”

I gave his hand a squeeze and assured, “It’ll be okay and –”

He interrupted me with, “No.”

“No?” I asked cautiously.

“No. Not about Fin and Reesee because you’re right. He’s a good kid and she’s not dating but it’d be stupid for me to stand in his or Reesee’s way because it’ll only make them want to be together more which means they’ll find ways to do it when it isn’t in front of my TV. I’m saying no to you reassuring me. You don’t have to. I said ‘fuck’ because you’re smart, you’re rational, you’re caring and I wish like all hell my kids had that in their lives for the length of them, something they never got from their mother, and they didn’t just meet it tonight when they’re almost grown up and gone.”

What he said meant so much to me I stopped breathing.

Mike wasn’t done.

His hand came back to my jaw, he leaned in again and told me, “You’ll make a great Mom, Angel. Just here, sittin’ in this car, I’ve seen it all. Your grief at the loss of Fin’s childhood, your sharin’ with me how you spent that childhood with him then you shift right into havin’ his back. Supporting him through where he is now, who he’s becoming. Makin’ sure he has what he wants in a controlled way where no one gets hurt. And lookin’ out for where he is in his head after losin’ his Dad and a load of shit going down that he shouldn’t have felt but he did.”

I stared through the moonlight into his eyes.

Then I punched him weakly in the chest and snapped, “Stop making me cry!”

Then I started crying. Luckily, Mike was close and he pulled me across the seats and into his arms.

I let it all hang out for a couple minutes then gulped and muttered into the skin of his neck, “I don’t cry like this normally.”

“You got a lot goin’ on.”

He could say that again.

I didn’t respond just rested in the safety of Mike’s arms as I pulled myself together.

When I did, Mike teased, “Rivera says you take boot camps and, seriously, sweetheart, it’s good you aren’t wastin’ your money on that shit anymore. That punch?” I felt him shake his head.

“I can totally kick your ass,” I muttered into his neck and his arms gave me a squeeze as I felt and heard the rumble of his chuckle in his chest.

I liked that. A whole lot.

“Right, the kids are at their mother’s next weekend and all weekend you’re in my bed with me provin’ that wrong.”

Nice. Something to look forward to.

“You’re on.”

He gave me another squeeze.

Then quietly he asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I quietly answered.

“I need to take you back and get to my kids.”

“Yeah,” I repeated.

I felt his neck bend then I felt his lips on my hair then I felt him make a move to shift away.

I tipped my head back and caught him before he could, my hand curling around his neck.

“I have something to say,” I whispered.

“So say it,” was Mike’s whispered invitation.

“I lived a dream, walking down to you tonight.”

Even in the moonlight I saw his face get soft. He knew exactly what I was saying.

“Honey.”

“And another one, steaming up a car by the watering hole.”

He burst out laughing.

I watched through the moonlight and even if I saw it only through the silver glinting his skin, it was still beautiful.

When he sobered, my thumb moved on his jaw and I whispered, “Thank you, Mike.”

His mouth came to mine and he whispered back, “You’re welcome, Angel.”

Then he kissed me, slow and sweet. Then he planted my ass in my seat, let me go, settled in his and took me home.

Way past curfew.

Chapter Nine

Bunches

I was in the barn saddling my dapple gray, Moonshine for her morning ride. I’d taken my black with the white star between her eyes, Blaise, out yesterday so she could get the lay of the land. This was going to be Moonshine’s second tour of the farm and as usual, my baby girl couldn’t wait to go.

I was singing while I saddled. I was doing this because this was what I did. I was also doing this because I had a beautiful arrangement of flowers in my bedroom in the farmhouse. A surprise delivery that came yesterday afternoon from Janet’s Flower Shop. The flowers were all striking, rich colors. Roses mixed with gerbera daisies tucked into a squat, square glass vase.

It was stunning.

It also had a note attached that said,

Angel,

Thanks for letting me have tonight with Reesee and No.

Mike

Total cool. Total class. Totally thoughtful. And I swear, I squealed inside and felt like a girl again when I opened the door to a delivery guy holding that arrangement and saw the note had my name on it.

I arrived home on a Wednesday afternoon. I reconciled with Mike that night. We went out to dinner on Thursday. Friday was Rees’s actual birthday and Mike called me yesterday morning to ask me to meet him for lunch at Frank’s.

I took him up on this offer because he’d already told me that night was Rees’s, not just because it was her birthday but because it was Friday and every Friday night he had her was Rees’s night with her Dad. They did Scary Movie Friday nights with junk food and had for years. Mike didn’t want to buck that trend with me in the picture because Rees enjoyed that time with her Dad. I also got the clear sense Mike enjoyed that time with his daughter.

I agreed because I didn’t want to be the bitchy new girlfriend who sucked all her Dad’s time. Not to mention, I had a shitload of stuff to do, what with needing to finish unpacking and dealing with my kilns and wheel.

But last night was a special night. Seeing it was Rees’s birthday, No was joining them for the festivities. Gifts would be exchanged, store bought birthday cake consumed and slasher flicks would be watched. I knew this would go late because Mike warned me he probably wouldn’t even call.

He didn’t.

It was now Saturday and Rees’s birthday party was that afternoon at three at Mike’s place so I was psyching myself up for this.

I’d also spent time yesterday going out to get her a present. Mike already sent No out to get his presents from her list so he gave it to me at lunch with the things he and No bought her scratched off. I chose something that didn’t send the message I was trying to crawl up her ass but it was still something nice. Then I threw in a bunch of little things just because I was at the mall, she was a girl, I was a girl, I liked girlie crap and I’d never had a girl to buy for. Not one who was fifteen. Jerra’s girl was six and that kind of girlie crap was different than the girlie crap you could buy for a fifteen year old.