Well, I was in love with them all, but Candy was just so sweet. She said practically nothing and was shy as could be. But she also loved her daddy loads, whispered with her mother and “Momma Heely” with her hands on their necks, put up with her rambunctious brothers with a great deal of patience, and studied Joker timidly like she had a crush on him.
All of which (particularly the last) was exactly why she was so stinking sweet.
“Say again?” he asked, his hand in mine holding them at his thigh.
“A little girl,” I explained.
His hand convulsed in mine and the good company, good food, and wine-induced mood melted instantly as I realized what I’d just said.
I turned my head to him. “Not immediately, of course.”
By the dashboard lights, I saw him grin at the road as he murmured, “Of course.”
I shut up and looked at the street.
We drove in silence for a while before Joker asked, “How many you want?”
“How many what?” I asked, purposefully obtusely, scared, what with him already taking on one child (who, incidentally, was not his own) that this was way too soon for us to be talking about future children.
But more scared it would scare him.
Joker didn’t play my game.
He gave it to me straight.
“Me. Four. That includes Travis. And I don’t give a shit what they come out to be.”
I wasn’t breathing right when I turned again to look at him.
Therefore, it sounded funny when I asked, “You want four kids?”
“Including Travis.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“This goes the distance, you good to push out three more?” he asked.
I was good to push out seven more (okay, perhaps that was slightly overstating it).
“Yes,” I croaked.
He squeezed my hand. “Good.”
I stared at him.
Then I blurted, “All I ever wanted was to be a wife and mom.”
I watched him grin at the road again before he teased, “Shocker. No burning desire to be a grocery store clerk?”
“I lost my sister when I was six,” I whispered, and his hand tightened again in mine but this time didn’t loosen. “My mom when I was seventeen. Losing half my family, I know it can slip through your fingers so easily. So all I ever wanted was to spend every waking minute of my day taking care of my husband and my kids.”
Joker said nothing but the air in the cab was far from light.
I swallowed, thinking I read his thoughts, and looked back to the windshield. “It’s lame. I know. I should want to be a graphic designer or bank president or something.”
“Most important job in the world.”
I looked back at him.
“Not one fuckin’ thing lame about that,” he stated firmly, his hand still holding mine tight. I watched as he lifted it to his lips and brushed them against my knuckles. I was breathing strange again when he dropped our hands back to his thigh. “Not one fuckin’ thing.”
“Well, now, I kinda wanna be a stylist,” I shared.
“Then do it,” he said. “We’ll get you there. You want part-time and the rest of the time family, that’ll happen. You want full-time, whatever. Days where you didn’t get what you want are done, Carrie.”
“I can’t take night classes with my work schedule,” I told him.
He glanced at me again then back to the road before replying, “Day at a time. Week at a time. We’ll deal with your ex. We’ll be together and make the solid we got unshakable. Then we’ll sort it out.”
“It’s easy with you,” I said straight out, got another glance and kept going. “I didn’t realize how hard it was with him until you gave the easy of you.”
“Butterfly, I think we’ve both had enough hard. We could use some easy.”
I wished I was driving. If I was driving, right that second, I’d pull over and kiss him.
Since I couldn’t do that, I again faced forward, muttering, “Totally wish I could bronze that tire.”
Joker started chuckling.
Then he turned into the alley that ran behind Tyra’s house and let my hand go to lift his to the garage door opener I’d given him.
He parked beside the red wreck and shut down.
We walked to the back of the house with our arms around each other.
He let me go to unlock the door (obviously, I’d also given him keys to the house).
Joker waited for me to precede him, which I did. I tossed my purse aside and didn’t turn on the light since the switch was right by the door and I didn’t want to make him wait even a moment to make his way in. He’d turn on the light.
Except he didn’t.
I heard the door close, then with a quiet cry, I was tugged back and found myself pressed to it, face first, my hands up in front of me.
Then my skirt was yanked up and I felt Joker’s chest pressed to my back.
My breath caught.
His hand slid over my bottom.
“Saw these panties on the couch. Knowin’ they were on you, fucked with me all night.”
Okay, maybe he’d noticed my usual underwear, but since it came in a five pack and wasn’t exciting by any stretch of the imagination, like the pink, lacy, semi-thong I was currently wearing, he just hadn’t said anything.
He slid his finger along the edge of the lace that ran over the top of my cheek, and he didn’t stop even as it disappeared in my cleft.
I started panting.
“Dress off, Butterfly,” he growled.
Immediately, the area between my legs saturated with wet as I trembled against the door.
“Here?” I asked breathlessly.
“Now,” he answered.
In the minimal space provided, I pulled my dress off.
“Spread,” he grunted.
I shifted my legs apart and felt heat drench my private parts.
He slid his finger down, around, and through.
Oh yes.
My head fell back to his shoulder.
His other hand slid from my hip to my belly and up to cup my breast.
I turned my head and pressed my lips against his neck.
“Tonight, you gave good girlfriend to my friends, baby,” he whispered.
“Thanks,” I gasped as his fingers continued to glide between my legs.
“Now you’re gonna give it to me.”
“O-okay,” I stammered.
He rubbed my nipple through the lacy bra with his thumb and I whimpered.
Then he pulled away.
But only for a half a second before I was turned, lifted up, thrown over his shoulder, and he prowled through the dark kitchen, the dark house, to the bedroom, where he tossed me on the bed.