Twist (Dive Bar #2)

Stan’s hands curled into fists. “You’d abandon me, boy, after everything I’ve done for you?”


“Christ. You can’t have it both ways, Dad,” said Eric with a sigh. “He’s done everything he can to make you happy. To make you proud.”

“I don’t want to hear a goddamn thing from you.” The man glowered at one and all. “Of course you’d be on his side. Too damn lazy and stupid for real work, weren’t you?”

“Yes. So you can growl at me all you like,” said Eric, jaw set in a harsh line. “But this isn’t about me. It’s about Joe. Hell, it’s about Mom too, though she’d never say it. How do you think she feels, watching you struggle, watching you work yourself into an early grave?”

Their father turned to stare at her, seemingly out of words for once.

“You’ve been promising her Hawaii since before I was born,” added Joe. “Can’t count all the times you two have talked about it.”

That seemed to stop him.

“Audrey?” asked Stan, voice hesitant.

With a sigh, she watched him with sad eyes. “I’ll be sixty-two next year and you’re sixty-six. We’re getting old, honey. It’s not an insult, it’s a fact. And yes, I worry about you. Of course I do.”

Eyelids blinking repetitively, Stan stepped back from the table. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room.

The house sat in silence. It could have been the calm after the storm, or we might have been in the eye of it. Hard to tell.

“I think that went pretty well.” Eric sank back in his seat, hands behind his head. “Could have done without hearing about my brother’s supposed super-penis but, other than that, not the worst Collins family gathering ever.”

Joe snorted.

His mother huffed out a breath, then took a long sip of beer. A healthy mouthful of the good stuff, actually. Fair enough, seemed justified.

“Mom?” asked Eric. “You okay?”

“Yes,” she said calmly. “But none of you deserve cake.”

*

Lunch wound up rather quickly after Stan stormed out. I think Audrey was ready for a little peace and quiet.

Joe had to work at the Dive Bar that night. I set myself up in a corner and caught up on some work on my laptop. Spinach and ricotta cannelloni and a beer were brought to my table first, followed by a five-layer chocolate cake. With my stomach so full, I had to fight off the need to nap, face flat on the table. Luckily, Eric decided they could do without Joe after ten-thirty so we returned to the hotel.

Nothing further had been mentioned about his super-penis or my speech vaguely referring to the same.

Surely, this was why people didn’t generally take me home to meet Mom. Not that I generally wanted anyone to. Joe Collins may or may not have been an exception; my feelings regarding him were still a big hot mess. I told Valerie about it, seeing as she was the official keeper of my secrets. The woman laughed until she cried. So much for loyalty.

I unlocked the hotel room door and stopped cold.

“The room is flickering,” I said, looking back over my shoulder at Joe.

“Is it?” His smile was secretive, sneaky, even.

“Yeah. Must have been all of those drugs I took in the sixties.”

The bearded wonder chuckled, following me into the wonderfully mood-lit room. Tiny little fake candles sat in frosted glasses all around the place, including in the bathroom.

“Pretty,” I said, checking out the shadows dancing across the ceiling. “You have anything to do with this?”

“Nah.”

I nodded, not believing him an inch.

Bubbles filled the spa bath and a couple of beers sat in a bucket of ice at its side. On the counter sat a vase packed full of roses.

“I really wish my other boyfriend hadn’t done this,” I said. “Makes it a bit awkward with you being here and everything.”

Joe just stared at me.

“What?” I smiled.

“You just called me your boyfriend.”

Oh shit. My mouth opened, my mind reeled. Man, was it my day for stepping in it. “Ah, I, um … oops. A labeling accident mid-joke. Let’s pretend it never happened.”

He blinked. “Okay.”

“Great. Phew.”

He took hold of the bottom of my sweater, carefully peeling it up and over my head. A demure white bra awaited him below. No matching panties. What with the necessary post-conjugal sleep-in this morning, I just hadn’t been that organized. Speaking of which, “Who did you get to do all this?”

“Lady at the front desk was happy to help.”

“That’s nice.”

The thing about consorting with giants, they had a habit of just putting you where they liked. Joe grabbed my hips and lifted me onto the bathroom counter, pulling off my booties and socks.

“It’s really beautiful,” I said, reaching out to touch the petals of a rose. “Thank you.”

“Consider yourself wooed.”

“Got it.”

Then I was back standing on the floor, my jeans disappearing fast. Happily, he didn’t appear to be disappointed by my lavender lace boy shorts. Hands down my bare back in a distinctly proprietorial fashion. They certainly weren’t shy.

“Hey,” he whispered, drawing me in against him. “What you said at lunch, I appreciated it, the way you stood up for me. Next time though, let’s not talk ever, even remotely, about sex in front of my parents, okay?”

“Right. Okay. That sounds fair enough.”

I checked out the waiting tub again, giving it side-eyes, trying not to be nervous. It was clean and white and lovely. No blood or anything. Nothing to fear here. The past was gone.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“That I could do with some good memories in bathrooms.”

A grunt. Luckily for him, it sounded different than his father’s. Joe’s grunt had a vibe of understanding as opposed to Stan’s grumpiness and general dissatisfaction. I could deal with Joe’s grunt just fine.

“You going to tell me what that’s about sometime?” he asked.

“Sometime.” Not now. I didn’t want to ruin the mood he’d gone to so much effort to create. Instead, I reached up, pressing my lips against his. Once we started kissing there could be nothing wrong. Joe’s teeth, lips, and tongue made everything right. Usually I didn’t waste a lot of time with the preliminaries. With him, however, all of it was good and worthwhile. When his hands slid into my underwear, cupping my butt cheeks, encouraging me, all was wow. Standing before him almost naked while he remained fully dressed made the power dynamic shift into his capable hands. I’d given it over.

The pterodactyls in my tummy were making their presence known again. Overheating me, turning me into a weak-kneed fool. I don’t know if it was due to our closer relationship or his talented dick. Both things probably made this thing with Joe take on so much more meaning than my usual “slam, bam, thank-you man” orgasm exchanges.

The bath might not be so deep, but I’d still be out of my depth. Never mind. My swimming skills weren’t so bad. And if they failed me, I was pretty damn sure Joe wouldn’t.