At Peace (The ‘Burg #2)(49)
Author: Kristen Ashley

And why was he calling me “baby” more often?

I wasn’t complaining but did booty calls use sweet nothings?

I needed to ask Cheryl so I repeated, “Joe, I have to go.”

“Use your side door tonight, lock it.”

“Okay.”

“Later.”

“Bye.”

I slid my phone closed and stared at it.

He kept moving the goalposts for this booty call business. How could he say no to dinner but then talk to my daughter’s boyfriend about condoms and respect for his “woman”?

It didn’t make sense and I didn’t have the time or experience to stand in my bedroom pondering it. I needed to get to J&J’s.

And anyway, Cheryl would have the answers.

* * * * *

I wandered back to the bar from the bathroom, seeing Cheryl sitting at the bar, a fresh drink in front of her, a fresh drink in front of my empty stool and an extremely attractive, tall, dark blond man standing behind her. She was twisted in her stool, looking up at him and chatting.

I was not wrong about her outfit; she definitely made me pale in comparison. No man was looking at me considering the amount of cle**age and leg she was displaying. I’d actually seen two guys walk into tables because they were mesmerized by her flesh display.

I slid by a couple of people, having to get close to the blond guy Cheryl was talking to to get to my seat. He looked down at me as I squeezed by, I saw he had nice, dark brown eyes and was more than a little attractive up close and I slid onto my stool.

“Hey,” he said and I heard he also had a nice, deep voice.

“Hi,” I replied.

He kept looking at me and I smiled at him, waiting for Cheryl to introduce us. When she didn’t, I looked at her to see she was looking down to Colt’s end of the bar (which was the way I thought of it since Colt always sat at the last stool of the bar, closest to the wall, the office behind him). She was smiling a little, sneaky smile and I was about to look over my shoulder to see what she was smiling at when the man spoke.

“I’m Mike.”

I looked up at him and said, “Violet.”

“I know, Cheryl mentioned she was out with you tonight.”

“Ah,” I said because there was no real response to that.

I picked up my cranberry juice and vodka and sucked on the straw.

He kept talking. “You should also know I know you because I work with Colt.”

I put down my drink and asked, “What?”

“I’m a cop. Lieutenant Mike Haines.”

“Uh…”

“It’s okay, Violet, I just didn’t want you to find out later that I knew your deal. Would suck, we had a conversation, I didn’t mention it and then you found out I knew all about it. You’d think I was a dick, so thought it best to lay it out there.”

That was nice so I smiled and said, “Thanks.”

He smiled back and said, “Hope it’s not weird. Can’t imagine how weird it’d feel, someone knowin’ you before you know them. Don’t know how Feb handles it when the serial killer tourists hit the bar.”

Feb had mentioned this to me at the Christmas party at Myrtle’s house. She told me how the people who heard about her bad business and read about it in the book that was published came to the bar. It was quieting down but at first it was constant and she, nor Colt, nor anyone in town, liked it much.

“Unfortunately, I think she’s used to it,” I told him.

He smiled again and, this time, I noticed he had a nice smile in fact it was a really nice smile. “Yeah.”

“Anyway, thanks for bein’ honest.”

“Colt doesn’t talk, he just briefed us in case shit went down,” Mike assured me.

I smiled again too and said, “Well, glad you’re briefed.”

“Has shit gone down?”

I shook my head. “Since the flowers? No.”

Cheryl, who had been silent during our conversation, suddenly stood up.

“I’m gonna go visit the powder room. You two talk.” She looked up at Mike and said, “You can take my stool. I’m gonna cruise the room before I get back. Just in case Colt didn’t give you the full brief, she works at the garden center and has two daughters. They’re gorgeous, good kids. And she’s nice so, you f**k her over, you’re on my shit list.” Then she looked at me and said, straight out, “He’s got a son and a daughter and he’s single. His divorce was finalized two months ago, don’t know what’s up with the divorce, I quizzed Colt, he was locked up tight, Feb too. Joint custody. Haven’t met his kids so I can’t vouch for them, they could be hooligans. Beware.” Then, after sharing those tidbits, she clapped me on the shoulder, Mike on the arm and ordered, “Commence flirting.” Then she walked away.

I watched her move and I did it with my mouth hanging open. I knew it was hanging open but I couldn’t find it in me to close it.

Mike took her stool and leaned into me so I swung my eyes to him.

“Relax, Violet,” he put his hand to my knee, gave it a squeeze then took his hand away, “I’m all for flirtin’, if you’re up for that, but we can also just talk.”

“I’ve no clue how to flirt,” I blurted. “I married my high school boyfriend.”

He grinned and I noted he had a nice grin too, more than nice, it was devilish, then he asked, “Wanna learn?”

I laughed at the concept of Lieutenant Mike Haines, one son, one daughter, joint custody, teaching me how to flirt in J&J’s Saloon and said, “Sure, sock it to me, how do you flirt?”

“You want the hard core stuff or the subtle stuff?” he asked.

I picked up my glass and rested the straw on my lip, looking at him the whole time and decided to be adventurous. “Hard core.”

Then I used the tip of my tongue to nab my straw, sucked back some drink and saw his eyes watch my mouth do this.

Then his eyes came back to mine and he muttered, “You’re full of it.”

I swung my drink away and asked, “What?”

“The straw ploy,” he dipped his head to my drink, “advanced flirting,” I looked at my drink then at him when he finished approvingly, “the tongue, nice touch.”

I was feeling suddenly strange and I put my straw back to my lips, mumbling, “Um…” then I covered the fact I didn’t know what to say by sucking up another sip.

Mike went on. “Next thing you’ll do is tie the stem of a cherry in a knot with your tongue.”