At Peace (61 page)

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Authors: Kristen Ashley

Tags: #romance, #crime, #stalkers, #contemporary romance

BOOK: At Peace
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“We were over!” I repeated.

“We weren’t fuckin’ over.”

“We were!”

“Vi, since we started I been home twice when
you weren’t in my fuckin’ bed. How the fuck is that over?”

I didn’t know if this was true, though I
reckoned it was, but it didn’t matter. We were still over. However
I knew I’d never convince Joe of that.

Therefore, I snapped, “It’s ridiculous to
fight about this.”


You’re absolutely right,” he bit out,
making it sound like
I
was
the one being ridiculous.

Not liking that one bit, I therefore
declared, “You’re not movin’ in for good.”

His face went from scary to sinister, he took
two steps toward me, his legs being long meaning this brought him
into my space and he looked down at me.

“I’m in,” he clipped.

“You can’t be. This is too fast. The girls
–”

“Yeah, the girls. Better for them I move in
then move out for no fuckin’ reason then move fuckin’ in
again?”

It pissed me off but he had a point so I
changed strategies.

“We haven’t even been on a date!” I
cried.

He stared at me like he didn’t know who I was
then he muttered irately, “Jesus Christ.”

“Joe –” I started but his hand came up, it
did this fast, he hooked me at the back of my neck and pulled me in
and up. I fell into his body, my hands going to his chest, he bent
at the waist and neck and his face was an inch from mine.


As fuckin’ ridiculous and clueless as
you’re bein’ right now, when you aren’t bein’ that, this is us,
this is good, this is where we are and this is where we’re stayin’.
I’m not dickin’ around with you anymore. I told you, I’m movin’ in
and I’m sellin’ my house. Sellin’ my house means I’d have no house
which means I’m
moving in.
” Then
he finished, now sounding not only angry but also frustrated at my
stupidity. “Christ, Vi, what did you think?”

I didn’t back down even knowing he was losing
more of his temper, he was bigger than me, stronger than me and
scarier than me. “Obviously, I thought you were staying until your
house got renovated.”

“Yeah, to get sold. Then what?”

“I didn’t think about that!”

“No, you didn’t, but that didn’t mean I
didn’t fuckin’ tell you.”

“You didn’t spell it out either!” I
snapped.

“Maybe you might wanna learn to come to the
obvious conclusion,” he suggested.


And maybe you might wanna learn that this
is
me
this is how
I am
. I’ve always got a million things on my mind. I
don’t need more so you need to
spell it out.

He didn’t reply, just kept his mouth shut but
I saw a muscle flex in his jaw.

“We need to talk about you moving in,” I went
on and his other arm went around me at the waist, pulling me into
his body and he did this hard so my hands were caught between
us.

“I’m in.”

“Joe –”

He cut me off saying, “Seventeen years… no,
longer… I’ve been waitin’ for you, waitin’ for those girls. You’re
here and I’m lettin’ go of my shit, finally fuckin’ movin’ on from
all that, movin’ on to something good in my life, something to wake
up and get outta bed for and I’m not leavin’ it because of some
hang up you have. You and me, I haven’t made it easy, I’ll admit
that, but that’s done. You gotta get over it or you’re never gonna
move on. I’m movin’ on, Kate and Keira are movin’ with me. It’s
only you who’s gotta keep the fuck up.”

I felt winded again so I had to force out my,
“Joe –”

“And I’m not livin’ under the cloud of how it
began, Vi. I fucked up, you know why, I explained it. You don’t
accept that, you keep handin’ me this shit, we’ll have problems we
can’t overcome and then I’ll move on a different way and you’ll be
right back where you fuckin’ started.”

I felt my body get tight. “Are you
threatening to leave?”

“I’m not livin’ under that cloud,” he
repeated.

“How can you threaten to leave when you’re
arguing about staying?” I demanded to know (and I did this
loudly).

“God fucking dammit,” he bit out, his voice
nearly a snarl then he let me go, turned away, ripped the sheet of
paper off the top of the pad and stated, “I’m gettin’ steaks. Sort
your fuckin’ head out while I’m gone.”

And as I stood in the kitchen staring at him,
he whistled for the dog and both Mooch and Joe walked out (well,
Mooch kind of trotted), they went to his truck and they drove to
the store.

Why he took Mooch, I had no idea and I was
too angry to care.

The time he spent at the store I did not
spend, as
ordered
, sorting
my “fuckin’” head out. Instead, I spent it thinking Joe was a jerk
and I should never have started it with him. I spent more time
thinking this was never going to work, primarily because he was a
jerk.

He arrived home with two bags of groceries in
one hand, his phone at his ear in his other hand and Mooch, in
doggie heaven after getting a ride in Joe’s truck, at his
heels.

He stayed on the phone while I started up the
grill for the steaks and seasoned them (I also seasoned good
steaks, salt and pepper, seasoning salt and Worcestershire sauce,
brilliant), put some new potatoes on the boil and got the water
ready for the peas when they needed to go in.

Then I took the steaks to the grill and was
in the beginning processes of ruining them (with Tina sitting on
her deck, reading a magazine and drinking a cocktail) when Joe came
out and plucked the fork right out of my hand.

“I’m grilling steaks,” I snapped, glaring up
at him.

“Yeah, now I’m grilling steaks,” Joe clipped
back then fiddled with the knobs.

“What are you doing? I have it like I want
it.”

“It’s too hot, Vi.”

“So?”

“You’re gonna burn ‘em.”

I crossed my arms on my chest, threw out a
foot, tilted a hip and shot back, “I’ve been doing things just fine
for nearly two years without your help, I think I can grill a
couple fucking steaks.”

He glowered at me, I glared right back then
he said, “Right,” handed me the fork and walked away.

I turned back to the grill, saw Tina smirking
in my direction, I ignored her, readjusted the knobs and finished
ruining the steaks.

Joe didn’t get a chance to eat his ruined
steak since he took off, not saying good-bye.

I added that to my list of reasons why he
needed to move the fuck out right, fucking, away.

Keira and Kate were both home before Joe and
they both asked where he was. Since he didn’t tell me, I didn’t
have an answer. They decided, wisely, not to pursue it. They had, I
didn’t realize, been around when Tim and I fought and they knew, I
didn’t realize, that I could hold a mean grudge. So they steered
clear.

In fact it was dark, the girls were asleep
and I was in bed by the time Joe got home and I’d been in bed a
really long time.

Long enough to cool down, get my head sorted
out and remember three things.

One, Joe didn’t have seventeen years with
a partner to practice communication. Hell, I
did
have that time and Tim and I often got into tiffs,
mainly because he was hot-headed and when my temper blew, it blew
huge. I didn’t know how long Joe and Bonnie were married but I
didn’t figure she was that good of a communicator and he certainly
wasn’t. I needed to cut him some slack.

Two, Jackie told me that the only way sure to
fail was to give up and that was always the first thing on my mind,
giving up on Joe. I needed to stop doing that.

And three, right in the middle of a fight he
said he’d waited seventeen years (even longer) for me and my girls.
I hadn’t waited that long to find him but the time after losing Tim
to finding Joe wasn’t fun and I never wanted to repeat that again
so I couldn’t imagine waiting seventeen years to find someone I
gave a shit enough about to try out a life with them. After all
that time, we’d given him something to wake up and get out of bed
for, he told me that too, and that was huge. So I also needed to
stop being a bitch.

I heard him enter the house then our room
then I heard his clothes hit the floor and, seconds later, I felt
it as he hit the bed.

I rolled into him instantly.

His body got tight.

“In no mood, buddy,” he growled this warning,
clearly not done being mad.

“I was a bitch,” I replied, his body got
tighter and I pressed closer and kept talking. “I didn’t think it
through, I have too much on my mind but you’re important, I should
have thought it through and I shouldn’t have lost my temper when I
was caught off guard.” I kissed his neck and whispered in his ear,
“I’m sorry, Joe.”

He didn’t reply, his body still taut, and
kept his silence for long enough for me to take a deep breath and a
big risk and do everything I could not to give up on Joe.

So I slid to straddling him. His hands came
to my hips and gripped them, probably to push me off but I put my
hands to either side of his head, dipped my face close to his, held
on and peered at him through the dark.

“I’m gonna piss you off, honey, probably
enough for you to want to leave. I’ve got a temper and so do you,
we’re gonna clash. It won’t feel good, it’ll feel not worth it
sometimes but, you leave me, I’ll wait for you to come back. And
you’ll come back because, something we’ve both learned, this, what
we have is worth getting over it. Whatever it is that ticks us off
or holds us back, we know it’s worth fighting for. I won’t give up
on you, Joe, I promise. I just need you to promise the same
thing.”

He remained silent and I started getting
scared so I tilted my head so our foreheads were touching.

“Baby, don’t give up on me,” I whispered.

“Buddy, I came home,” he replied and it hit
me that he did and it also hit me that his hands were still
gripping my hips, not to push me away, he’d never tried to push me
away. They were gripping my hips to hold me where I was. If he was
giving up on me, he wouldn’t have come home to my bed.

So my big speech was kind of unnecessary.

“Oh,” I murmured, “right.”

“Jesus,” he muttered then he rolled until I
was on my back, his weight was on me, his hips between my legs then
he said, “you’re not real fast, are you?”

If he’d said this in an angry or sarcastic
way, rather than a resigned and a tad bit amused way, I would have
lost my mind.

Instead, I said honestly, “I’m not usually
this clueless. But when my brother is murdered; I’m waiting for the
next crazy gift to be delivered to my door which might cause my
head to explode; I fall in love with a man and he moves in; and I
have a future that includes another kid and I need to figure out
how I’m gonna tell my daughters they might have a brother or sister
sometime in the future, I get a little out of it. In my defense,
most women would.”

“What?” Joe asked when I stopped talking and
I realized his body had gone tense again, so tense it felt like
even his cells had stopped moving he had that tight a rein.

I put a hand to his face and answered, “I
thought you said you wanted a kid.”

“Before that.”

I thought for a second and asked, “My head
exploding?”

His body moved but only to press mine deeper
into the bed.

“After that, Vi,” he growled and I was
getting confused again because he was sounding impatient again,
very impatient, close to losing it impatient.

“I’m in love with you?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, baby, that.”

“What about it?”

“What about it?” he repeated.

“Yeah, um… do you… uh…” Shit! He wasn’t ready
for that. Now what did I say? “Is that too much for you? Should I
have –?”

He cut me off by roaring with
laughter.
Roaring.
So loud
I was pretty sure he’d wake the girls (and Mooch).

“What’s funny?” I asked him and he shoved his
face in my neck but his hands started roaming.

“You think maybe you might have wanted to
tell me that?”

“Tell you what?”

His head came up. “Honey, keep up with me
because this is pretty fuckin’ important.”

I felt my temperature increase as my anger
elevated and I did my best to lock it down.

“I’m not following you, Joe. Maybe you could
explain?”

His mouth came to mine and he whispered,
“You’re in love with me.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Didn’t you think maybe you should share that
with me?”

“Um… I thought I did.”

He kissed me lightly then his mouth went away
but not far away when he said, “Woulda remembered that, buddy.”

“But, I gave up Mike and you’re moved
in.”

“Yeah. So?”

“With me and the girls.”

He didn’t say, “Yeah. So?” again, he let his
silence say it.

“Doesn’t that say it all?” I asked. “I mean,
I wouldn’t let just any guy move in with me and the girls. I’m not
like that. He’d have to mean something to me, like you do.”

I felt his body relax into mine before he
asked quietly, “When did you know?”

“What?”

“That you loved me, when did you know?”

I felt my temperature decrease and my hand
slid up his back and into his hair. “I don’t know. I just knew,” I
answered softly.

“Vi –” he said my name on a gentle
warning.

Quickly, to get it out because, being Joe
he wasn’t going to let it go and when I said it, it was going to
make me sound stupid, I told him. “When you said, ‘Baby, you aren’t
wearing any shoes’ that second night we were together at your
house.”

Immediately, he replied, “I knew you were the
one when you were standin’ in my living room, wearing those
stupid-ass boots, your nightie and that ratty robe.”

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