That was nice so I smiled and said, “Thanks.”

He smiled back and said, “Hope it’s not weird. Can’t imagine how weird it’d feel, someone knowin’ you before you know them. Don’t know how Feb handles it when the serial killer tourists hit the bar.”

Feb had mentioned this to me at the Christmas party at Myrtle’s house. She told me how the people who heard about her bad business and read about it in the book that was published came to the bar. It was quieting down but at first it was constant and she, nor Colt, nor anyone in town, liked it much.

“Unfortunately, I think she’s used to it,” I told him.

He smiled again and, this time, I noticed he had a nice smile in fact it was a really nice smile. “Yeah.”

“Anyway, thanks for bein’ honest.”

“Colt doesn’t talk, he just briefed us in case shit went down,” Mike assured me.

I smiled again too and said, “Well, glad you’re briefed.”

“Has shit gone down?”

I shook my head. “Since the flowers? No.”

Cheryl, who had been silent during our conversation, suddenly stood up.

“I’m gonna go visit the powder room. You two talk.” She looked up at Mike and said, “You can take my stool. I’m gonna cruise the room before I get back. Just in case Colt didn’t give you the full brief, she works at the garden center and has two daughters. They’re gorgeous, good kids. And she’s nice so, you fuck her over, you’re on my shit list.” Then she looked at me and said, straight out, “He’s got a son and a daughter and he’s single. His divorce was finalized two months ago, don’t know what’s up with the divorce, I quizzed Colt, he was locked up tight, Feb too. Joint custody. Haven’t met his kids so I can’t vouch for them, they could be hooligans. Beware.” Then, after sharing those tidbits, she clapped me on the shoulder, Mike on the arm and ordered, “Commence flirting.” Then she walked away.

I watched her move and I did it with my mouth hanging open. I knew it was hanging open but I couldn’t find it in me to close it.

Mike took her stool and leaned into me so I swung my eyes to him.

“Relax, Violet,” he put his hand to my knee, gave it a squeeze then took his hand away, “I’m all for flirtin’, if you’re up for that, but we can also just talk.”

“I’ve no clue how to flirt,” I blurted. “I married my high school boyfriend.”

He grinned and I noted he had a nice grin too, more than nice, it was devilish, then he asked, “Wanna learn?”

I laughed at the concept of Lieutenant Mike Haines, one son, one daughter, joint custody, teaching me how to flirt in J&J’s Saloon and said, “Sure, sock it to me, how do you flirt?”

“You want the hard core stuff or the subtle stuff?” he asked.

I picked up my glass and rested the straw on my lip, looking at him the whole time and decided to be adventurous. “Hard core.”

Then I used the tip of my tongue to nab my straw, sucked back some drink and saw his eyes watch my mouth do this.

Then his eyes came back to mine and he muttered, “You’re full of it.”

I swung my drink away and asked, “What?”

“The straw ploy,” he dipped his head to my drink, “advanced flirting,” I looked at my drink then at him when he finished approvingly, “the tongue, nice touch.”

I was feeling suddenly strange and I put my straw back to my lips, mumbling, “Um…” then I covered the fact I didn’t know what to say by sucking up another sip.

Mike went on. “Next thing you’ll do is tie the stem of a cherry in a knot with your tongue.”

I choked on my cranberry juice and vodka.

Mike put a hand to my back, which was easy to do considering I was leaned nearly double trying to take in deep breaths while still choking.

“Hey, you okay?”

I lifted up, placed my glass on the bar and patted my chest. “Just… went down the wrong tube,” I gasped.

“Take another sip, it’ll help,” Mike advised, I took his advice and he was right.

I put the glass back on the bar, looked at him and said hesitantly, “So, um… flirting question.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

“Nope,” he smiled.

I smiled back when he didn’t answer and asked, “How old are you?”

“Forty.”

“Okay, I’m thirty-five.”

He was still smiling when he said on a prompt, “Right.”

I carried on. “And you’re saying, at our ages, the knotting the cherry stem flirting trick still works?”

“Sweetheart, I’ll be a hundred and two and that’ll work like Viagra.”

Shit!

“Why?” he asked, watching me closely.

“Just that, I thought you boys got over that at, say, nineteen, maybe twenty.”

“Nope.”

I couldn’t believe it. I’d flirted with Joe the entire time we were at J&J’s together. No wonder he thought he could take me home and fuck me.

“Violet, you okay?”

“No,” I told Mike. “Not too long ago, a guy told me he’d pay me fifty bucks to tie a cherry stem with my tongue. I thought he was jokin’ around.”

Mike grinned and said, “Sorry, darlin’, he wasn’t.”

“Shit,” I whispered.

“You do it?”

“Yeah,” I told him. “He didn’t seem impressed.”

“Oh, he was impressed,” Mike assured me.

I guessed he was since he dragged me out of the bar not five minutes after, took me home and fucked me.

God, I was an idiot.

“You get the fifty?”

“Kind of… we had somewhat of a fight the next day and I threw it in his face.”

Mike burst out laughing.

“What?” I asked when I thought he could hear me over his laughter.

He leaned in. “The next day?” He shook his head as I realized what I gave away or what he thought I gave away which was, essentially, what I gave away and then he whispered, “Darlin’.”

“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

“God’s honest truth?” he asked.

“Hit me,” I told him.

“You squeezed by me, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in this town since Feb came home. Now I think you’re cute as all hell but still beautiful. What I don’t think is that you’re an idiot.”

I bit my lip then I whispered, “Thanks.”

“Won’t pay you fifty bucks but I’ll take you to dinner tomorrow night, you tie a cherry stem in a knot with your tongue,” he offered and I felt my body still. “Though, you should know, you don’t, I’ll still take you to dinner tomorrow night.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” I asked moronically.

“Yeah,” he answered quietly, not making me feel like a moron.

I didn’t know what to do. I liked him but Joe had been acting differently and, considering that Cheryl and I hadn’t been there but for a drink that led into two when Mike showed and she knew everyone in the bar and introduced me to all of them so I hadn’t had the time to ask her about Joe, I didn’t know what to think of Joe.

However Joe had been clear what I should think of Joe and, seeing as Joe was pretty clear about most everything, I figured Joe would be clear if I should think differently about Joe.

And Mike was handsome, nice, funny, he had a great smile and a devilish grin and he thought I was beautiful.

Therefore I said, “Okay.”

“Remind me,” he said and I blinked.

“Remind you?”

“Remind me, tomorrow night, you let me kiss you when I take you home, to thank Colt for takin’ that case that hit my desk so he’s workin’ tonight and I’m here with you.”

I was wrong. Mike was handsome, funny, he thought I was beautiful and he was really, freaking nice.

“Are your kids hooligans?” I asked and he smiled.

“Yeah, terrors. It’s good they’re growin’ up and out of the house with their friends most of the time, now they can terrorize other people. Your girls?”

“Kate’s okay, except she’s wrapped up in a boy so she pretty much doesn’t exist unless his essence is inserted in the atmosphere. Keira’s a pain in the ass but at least she’s funny while bein’ a pain in the ass.”

“Sounds like teenagers.”

“You should be warned, Keira also listens to boy bands,” I watched him flinch and couldn’t help but laugh.

“My son Jonas is in a band. Drums,” he informed me.

“Ouch.”

He nodded and added, “Loud.”

“Ouch again.”

I grabbed my glass and took another sip, his eyes dropped to it and he asked, “Do you want another?”

I shook my head and said, “I drove here.” Then I leaned into him and shared conspiratorially, “See, rumor has it, cops hang in this bar. Wouldn’t be good for a girl to get tipsy and then slide behind the wheel of a car.”

He leaned in closer too and grinned before saying, “Yeah, I heard that rumor too and cops really don’t like that shit. But, if I buy you a drink, you’ll promise to get you and Cheryl a taxi?”

I nodded as I sucked on my straw, he watched my mouth then shook his head, muttering, “Flirting lessons, fuck me.”

“I’m not flirting,” I told him.

“Then sweetheart, you’re a natural.”

I didn’t respond because I watched as his eyes went behind the bar, he gave a jerk of his chin then tipped his head to me which I suspected was his nonverbal, man ordering of another drink for me. His eyes came back to me but then they jerked over my shoulder and he straightened a bit. He focused on something then looked at me.

“Violet, there a reason Joe Callahan is lookin’ at me like he wants to rip my head off?”

I felt my body tense, my chest expand and I whispered, “What?”

His eyes went back over my shoulder and I watched his frame relax as he muttered, “Must be seein’ things.”

I looked over my shoulder to see Colt’s stool empty, so was the one next to it. A bunch of people I didn’t know were huddled at the end of the bar. No Joe.

“I know Cal’s helpin’ out with your thing, he’s your neighbor,” Mike said and I looked back to him. “Coulda sworn he was just there, lookin’ pissed as all hell.”

“He wasn’t there?”

“He was there, now he’s gone. Man’s fast, always was.”

At the thought of Joe being there, I licked my lips then bit them and Mike’s gaze grew more intense. “There a reason he might be lookin’ at me that way?”

I stared into his eyes and remembered he was honest with me right off the bat. He deserved the same thing.

“Joe and I are complicated.”

“You call him Joe?”

“Yeah.”

“No one calls him Joe.”

I shrugged.

“How complicated?” he pressed.

“I don’t really know but I think, in the end, not very.”

“What does that mean?”

“Honestly?” I asked and he nodded. “I wish I knew. I don’t. All I know is, he’s being cool about the security thing, he’s helping to keep my girls safe and he and I are not very well defined.”

“Not very well defined?”

“Not at all.”

“Sounds like Cal,” he muttered and a chill slid across my skin, so cold I shivered. “You cool with that?” Mike went on.

“Not really.”

“You want defined?”

“I had clearly defined for seventeen years. It wasn’t perfect but it was pretty damned good. So, yeah, I want defined.”

“Not fuckin’ with you, Violet, swear to God, but Cal’s not about defined.”

I knew that but it sucked having it confirmed.

“He’s given me that impression,” I told Mike.

Mike’s jaw got hard and he looked at the bar as my drink was placed there by Darryl. He pulled out his wallet, slid a bill on the bar, gave Darryl a curt nod and I took the final sip of my last drink before I placed the empty by my new one.

“Mike?” I called and his eyes cut to me.

“Yeah?”

I took in a deep breath and asked, “How are you with defined?”

“I liked defined. My wife liked designer handbags that I couldn’t get her on a cop’s salary, our credit card bills were out the roof, month after month, no matter how much I talked to her about it. The house, not big enough. The car, not sporty enough. She married a cop, don’t know what she thought she’d get, ‘specially when she also didn’t think she needed to work. So her definition of defined wasn’t mine. But yeah, in the end, defined is a fuckuva lot better than not defined, as long as both people get where they’re goin’.”

“I like designer handbags,” I told him.

“Great,” he muttered.

“I work though.”

He looked at me.

“And, well, obviously, I like my daughters to eat and maybe, if I can swing it, my youngest to have the dog she’s always wanted and that’s more important than a handbag.”

He kept looking at me then said softly, “Yeah.”