“Hmm?”

“Kids?”

“I can’t even take care of my yard,” I reminded him.

He smiled The Smile and I immediately decided I’d like three kids a whole lot.

“How are things?” Dad asked Lee.

Lee glanced at Dad, took his arm from my chair then studied the menu.

“Depends. Some are great, some not so good.”

Dad nodded, apparently happy with that answer or at least understanding it. I sat there thinking a lot more was said than what was actually said. Men had a mysterious way of communicating.

We ate, we chased after children who wanted to visit other diners’ tables, we talked, we laughed and after awhile, I began to relax. Life had been so weird lately, I didn’t even realize how tense it was making me. I didn’t realize how much I needed a night like tonight.

I poured honey on my crust and watched Tex who seemed not like a man who had barricaded himself on his block for two decades but like someone relaxed and who fit in with my family and friends.

Then again, you bought yourself some serious loyalty by saving a daughter/sister/girlfriend from being held hostage and getting shot for your troubles.

I ate my honeyed crust and my eyes moved to Lee who was listening to Dolores. His thigh was pressed against mine under the table and twice he had handed me the honey without me having to ask for it. The Savages and the Nightingales had been to Beau Jo’s dozens of times either in Denver for whatever occasion or Idaho Springs after a day of skiing.

Lee knew when I wanted the honey.

Yikes.

How did this happen?

There was no denying we were actually together, not test driving it. We’d blown right passed the “getting to know you” phase of the relationship because we didn’t need it. We were smack dab into the comfortable part of a relationship, the part that held shared intimacy because of history.

Even so, we still had the thrill of the newness about our situation, discovering hidden things about each other like him having a housekeeper, keeping good java in the kitchen, being incredibly moody, kissing really, really well and having a na**d body that was a gift from the gods.

At these thoughts, inexplicably, panic overwhelmed me.

Sensing it because he was a freak of nature, Lee’s head immediately turned to me.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

Self-preservation kicked in over the panic and I lied.

“Nothing.”

He turned fully to me and his arm went around the back of my chair again, his other forearm resting on the table, fencing me in.

“What’s the matter?” he repeated.

“Nothing!”

He watched me for a couple of beats and then he said calmly, “We’re gonna have to work at kickin’ your lying habit.”

“I’m not lying,” I lied.

He leaned in. “What we have here is good and if you’d get over your thoughts that it isn’t gonna last, you’d realize how much better it’s gonna get if you’d just relax.”

See! He totally knows me. It was beginning to be scary.

Since lying wasn’t going to work, I changed strategies and went for annoyance.

“Get out of my brain, it’s pissing me off,” I warned him.

Then I learned (or more to the point realized) something new about Lee. Something he’d been showing me for days.

Lee didn’t play games and he didn’t like me doing it either. Perhaps surviving life-threatening situations and living a life filled with danger made you more honest and less apt to waste precious time.

“What kind of underwear are you wearing?” he asked.

“What? Why?”

“Because if you describe it to me, I might decide you’re worth the trouble.”

It was best to cut my losses so I crossed my arms on my chest and glared at him.

He turned away, completely unperturbed.

I caught sight of Dad who was sitting down the table from us. There was no way he could have heard what we were saying because Lee had his back to him and spoke low. Still, Dad was shaking his head.

“What?” I snapped at my father.

“Jesus, it’s uncanny. You’re just like your mother.”

* * * * *

Everyone disbursed to get ready for Burgundy Rose’s show, Ally taking responsibility for Tex, Lee taking me home in his Crossfire.

I’d showered before Beau Jo’s but hadn’t prettied myself up because most of my makeup was at Lee’s. We walked up to the bedroom so I could change and Lee saw the bag.

“What’s this?”

I didn’t want to admit what it was and what it meant that I packed it. Since Lee saw through most of my lies, or was cocky enough to zip it open and see for himself, I came clean.

“I was running out of stuff at your place so I packed more provisions.”

His eyes crinkled their approval, his arm snaked out and pulled me to him. His mouth went to the skin below my ear.

“You done pretending to be mad at me to hide bein’ scared?” he murmured.

My whole body stiffened.

“Don’t be a jerk.”

His head lifted and he looked me in the eye.

“You’re right. That was an ass**le remark.”

Holy shit.

What did you say to that?

“I’m tired, it’s been a long day,” he continued, his hand coming up to pinch his nose between his eyes.

“That’s all right,” I said. “And no, I’m not mad at you or pretending to be mad. But I need to put makeup on and all my good stuff is at your condo so I have to visit Chez Burgundy.”

I had put my Lynyrd Skynyrd outfit back on for Beau Jo’s. I changed my top to a thin, black, silky, partially-beaded, spaghetti-strapped affair that was in the Sushi Den section of my closet. This necessitated no bra and since Lee seemed quite happy laying back on my bed with his arms crossed behind his head, watching me change (and I would have felt like a naïve fool locking myself in the bathroom), I had to pull a Jennifer-Beals-Flashdance move and take the bra off after I put the top on. I kept the jeans, but exchanged the belt for the one with rhinestones and the boots for high-heeled sandals with jet beads sewn across the front strap. I added about two dozen shiny black bangles on my wrist and some dangly earrings.

When I was done, I turned to the bed. I thought Lee was watching me, but he was asleep.

I sat next to his hip and the minute he felt my weight on the bed, his eyes opened.

“Why don’t you rest?” I asked. “We’ll come back after the show.”

His hand came from behind his head and his finger traced the silky strap at my shoulder.