True to his word, Mike and I didn’t speak for the last week. We exchanged a few texts to decide a time and for him to give me his address. That was it.
So it was two o’clock on Saturday and I was there, seeing Mike for the first time since our weekend together even though I arrived back home again yesterday afternoon.
I’d left two weeks earlier never thinking if I was in town Mike would delay it an entire day before making some time to see me. Even if he had his kids.
But there it was.
I didn’t take the time Mike suggested we meet as a good sign. Two o’clock meant it was nowhere near lunch so he wouldn’t feel courtesy bound to suggest having a meal with me. Ditto for dinner. But, even though it was late January and the days were short, there was plenty of time for me to get home in the daylight after our chat. So if I was crying my eyes out while driving, I’d still have more visibility and thus less of a chance to die in a fiery ball of flame caused by a heartbroken car accident.
I didn’t have to drive seeing as Mike lived next door to the family farm. But I didn’t know which of the gates in the long fence that ran the length of the townhouses was his. So I drove.
But by the time I got up his walk and to his door, I lost my nerves and started to get pissed.
I didn’t know what all the drama was about. And I wasn’t a big fan of someone telling me they were going to lay bad news on me and making me wait for it until they were ready to tell me.
I didn’t think Mike would be like this. Ever. And it sucked he was.
So when I knocked, I knocked sharply.
He wanted to talk face-to-face, fine. I’d do that. I’d do that for the Mike who was a good friend to my brother for years. I’d do that for the Mike who gave me some unbelievably fantastic orgasms. And I’d do that for the Mike I once knew him to be who I adored.
But this shit was not going to be drawn out. Rhonda was even more skittish and freaked out than normal. Fin and Kirb were both handling her like a piece of fragile glass. Mom and Dad had clearly tried everything in their parenting arsenal to help out, as had Rhonda’s parents who still lived close and reportedly had been hovering daily, and no one knew what to do. So I had shit to see to.
Mike opened the door and I looked right him. First, I noted he hadn’t grown grotesque in the two weeks we’d been separated which was unfortunate. Second, I noticed that he had a gentle look on his face that wasn’t sweet, warm and openly gentle but cautious and distantly gentle.
This already wasn’t starting good.
He stepped back, opening the door wider saying, “Hey, Dusty.”
No “Angel”. Yep, not starting good.
“Hey,” I muttered, moving in as he clearly intended me to do and taking two steps in before stopping.
I didn’t look around. I was curious but damned if I was going to give into it. Mike was not in my future, this much I’d figured out. I didn’t need an in-my-face view of what I was going to be missing.
He closed the door and turned to me. I was already turned to him.
“You want a drink?” he asked.
“No, I want to get whatever this is done so I can get back to my family,” I answered.
He flinched and didn’t hide it.
Whatever. Mike obviously could be more than one kind of dick. Since he had awesome command of the real one on his body and he was gorgeous, this shouldn’t have been a surprise. It was my vast experience beautiful men who were good in bed tended to be total assholes. If he was decent enough to feel guilt about that, that was not my problem.
“Go straight down the hall, Dusty. We’ll talk in the living room,” Mike invited.
“How long’s this going to take?” I asked and his eyes leveled on mine.
“I’m asking you, please, go down the hall, Dusty,” he said firmly. I figured that was how he talked to his kids but he probably took the jerk out of it when he spoke to his kids that way.
I sighed, turned and walked down the hall.
Being even more pissed, I forgot to keep my blinders up and through the windowed backdoors I saw a gorgeous, clearly spunky golden retriever outside bouncing around on Mike’s deck.
Damn, I loved dogs and she was beautiful.
I pulled my eyes away from the dog and turned to Mike.
“So, what is it?” I asked.
“Sit down.”
“No, Mike. Just tell me.”
“Dusty, please sit down.”
“I think I answered that,” I snapped, his gaze held mine then he gave in, crossing his arms on his unfairly wide and attractive chest (yes, even in clothes and unfortunately I knew how good that chest looked out of them).
He took in a breath and started, “Honey, you’re a beautiful woman.”
Oh my God, was he serious?
I rolled my eyes.
“Dusty, eyes to me and listen to me,” he clipped, suddenly sounding angry and I looked at him. Boy, did I look at him and I did it hard.