I walked around him and he came with me but I put my hand to his waist and whispered, “Stand stil .” Surprisingly he did as I asked.
I got to his back and saw the puckered scar of the gunshot wound. I put both my hands on him then, my arms tight against my sides to hold up the sheet, one hand went to his bel y, one hand at the smal of his back.
I leaned around and looked at his chest.
Nothing.
I looked to his back again.
Gunshot wound.
I went back to his chest then to his back and again.
Then…
I lost my mind.
“They shot you in the back?” I yel ed.
He turned to face me. “Jules.”
I lifted my eyes to his face. “The back? ” I shouted.
His arms started to come around me but I jerked away.
“What kind of asshole shoots someone in the back?” I was stil shouting.
“Jules, listen –”
“That is just… I cannot believe… no one shoots anyone in the back. Only gutless sissies would shoot someone in the back.” My brows drew together and I frowned at Vance.
“What happened?”
Correctly reading that there was no way he could interfere with my rant, Vance leaned against the bed platform and crossed his arms. “I can’t tel you. When it happened, we were workin’ a contract with the Feds.” I put my hands on my hips. The sheet started unraveling so I compromised and put one hand to my hip while the other one held the sheet around me.
“How did you get shot in the back?” I asked.
“I can’t tel you that, Jules.”
I looked to the ceiling. “I just cannot believe this shit,” I told the ceiling like it would respond. Then I looked back at Vance. “I want a word with Lee. Government contracts where you go up against cowardly assholes that would shoot his men in the back, I… think… not.”
“I’m fine,” Vance told me.
“I know you’re fine. I can see you’re fine. I do not care if you are fine.” I ended my tirade enunciating every word like my life depended on that particular communication.
In the face of my anger, Vance started laughing.
Laughing!
My body prepared to have a stroke. “This is not fucking funny!” I shouted.
He moved fast, his hands came to my hips giving me a swift yank. I flew forward and slammed against his body.
swift yank. I flew forward and slammed against his body.
His shaking with laughter body.
Then his arms went around me, his face went to my neck and I felt his laughter there too.
Final y he said, “You wanna break up with me now?” Oh my God.
He did not just say that.
“What’s your middle name?” I snapped.
His head came up and he was stil smiling. “Why?”
“Tel me your middle name,” I demanded.
He kept smiling but he told me. “It’s Ouray.” I blinked. “Ouray? Like, the town?”
“Yeah. It’s Ute. It means ‘arrow’.”
“Okay, then,” I took a deep breath and let loose, “Vance Ouray Crowe, do not fucking piss me off. It’s my fucking birthday and when I say this is not funny, it is not fucking funny!”
Vance stared at me a beat, that Jules-is-downright-adorable look in his eye.
Then he asked conversational y, his arrogant grin replacing his smile, “Do you think Nick’l wait for coffee long enough for me to fuck you?”
My eyes narrowed. “You’ve just moved to the top of my list,” I informed him snottily.
His grin didn’t waver. “Your list?”
“My ‘Men in My Life I’m Going to Kil ’ List. You’re at the top.”
This time he threw his head back and laughed, ful body, ful throated, ful -on laughter.
When he was finished, his eyes came back to me and he said, “You can kil me after I fuck you.”
“Vance!”
His mouth came to mine and he gave me a soft kiss.
“Shut up, Jules. We need to shower.”
“It’s my birthday, don’t tel me to shut up.”
“Nick’s waiting. You can keep yel in’ at me later.” This was true, Nick was waiting.
I pul ed out of his arms and stomped to the kitchen, grumbling under my breath and tightening the sheet around me. “I have to feed Boo. Then we can take a shower. Then we’l go to coffee. Then I’m gonna cal Lee and give him a piece of my mind.”
I heard the bathroom door close and I realized Vance wasn’t listening to a thing I said.
I yanked Boo’s food bowl out of the cupboard and slammed it on the counter.
What ever.
Chapter Fourteen
Your Real Family
Nick walked into Fortnum’s ahead of Vance and me. We walked in (I kid you not) holding hands (or Vance was holding my hand and I was giving myself a secret birthday present by letting him).
Yes, the badass mother and the head crackin’ mamma jamma holding hands. The dealers would probably piss their pants laughing if they saw us.
The place was packed.
Tex, Jet and Al y were working the espresso counter.
Indy was clearing used cups from the seating area. The big, gray-haired, gravel y-voiced Harley guy was behind the book counter next to a woman I hadn’t seen the first time I was there. She was dark-haired, painful y thin and very tal .