“Mara, baby, open your eyes for long enough to remember I’ve been livin’ this alongside you the last week. I’m totally clued in, sweetheart, it’s you who isn’t.”

That was when it hit me.

He had been. Mitch had been living this with me the last week.

No, that wasn’t exactly true. He hadn’t only been living it with me; he’d been taking care of things for me and for the kids. I’d been too busy, too tired and too freaked out to realize the fullness of his assistance. For over a week, without Mitch, I would never have made it. I’d had a very short taste of going it alone and it exhausted me in a way I knew would seep into my bones. I’d have had to take time off. I would have had to load up a sick Billie and wake up her brother so I could go to the drugstore to get her Tylenol. In fact, I wouldn’t have even known to get her some Tylenol.

Though, I probably would have called Roberta and learned that.

Still, it would have been harder without him.

A lot harder.

Exhausting.

I stared at Mitch. He’d done all that without complaint, without looking tired, without getting pissed, without me asking. And through all that, he also took care of me, snuggling with me on the couch when I needed to zone out. Making me chili. Making me breakfast right along with the kids. Turning off my alarm so I could sleep in.

What sane man in the whole of the United States of America takes on a pathologically shy, Two Point Five woman who only owns a hammer? A woman who doesn’t know there’s a valve to switch off the water? A woman who runs away on what was, apparently, your first date and stands you him up on your second? Then suddenly she finds herself the guardian of two children and has a family that was sent to earth straight from hell because even the devil himself didn’t want to spend time with them?

“You’re a very unusual man, Detective Mitch Lawson, and I think maybe this is because you aren’t totally sane,” I blurted because the words bubbled up inside of me and forced their way out before I could hold them back.

When they did Mitch blinked then he threw his head back and laughed.

I watched him laugh thinking that was proof he was insane at the same time thinking the same thing I always thought when he laughed. And that was that he looked unbelievably good when he laughed.

When he stopped laughing, he leaned toward me and lifted our hands toward his mouth.

“Are you sayin’ we have a deal?”

“No.” I shook my head and the humor fled from his face so I hastily explained, “I play this game with you Mitch, it’s not only me playing it. Two other people are involved.”

“Remember, Mara, I know that.”

“This doesn’t work, then they –”

“I ever give you cause to think I’d fuck you over or them?”

“No, but –”

“What I have with you and what I want to have with you is exclusive to what I have with each of those kids. What they have from me is what they’ll always have from me, if they want it, whether I still have something with you or not.”

I felt my throat close and wet hit my eyes.

God, he was really a great guy.

“You like them,” I whispered.

“They’re good kids,” he replied.

“They like you,” I told him.

“I know.”

I pressed my lips together, swallowed and then pulled in a deep breath to control my tears before they spilled over and ruined my makeup.

Mitch watched this without a word.

Then he asked, “Do we have a deal?”

“You and me are against all the laws in the universe,” I explained.

“No, you and me are against all the laws in twisted, fucked up Mara World but I’m gonna straighten out Mara World so, answer me, do we have a deal?”

I bit my lip. I considered this deal. And I knew it would be me who was insane if I made it.

Then, because I was insane, I whispered, “We do if you promise me one thing.”

His hand tensed and his eyes stayed locked to mine. “What?”

I kept whispering when I said, “When you figure it out and move onto a beautiful life, don’t regret the time you wasted on me.”

He stared at me a second then closed his eyes, turned his head and brought our hands to his lips. He just rested them there and he did this for what seemed like a long time.

Then he slid my knuckles across his lips, opened his eyes and faced me.

Then he whispered back, “I promise I’ll never regret being with you, Mara.”

I nodded. “Then we have a deal.”

That was when our antipasti arrived.

* * *

We shared a three course meal. Mitch had another beer and I had two glasses of wine

During our meal Mitch didn’t let me descend into a freak out about making a stupid deal that would lead to heartbreak and, likely, me spending the rest of my days reading the works of Sylvia Plath (and the like).

Instead, I learned that Mitch had been born in Pennsylvania and his father had moved them to Colorado when he was five. I also learned Penny was his older sister and he had a younger sister named Judy who was a physical therapist at a rehabilitation center in Vail.

He further shared the scary news that he’d been engaged to his high school sweetheart who stayed his sweetheart through college. He went on to share the crazy news that he broke it off with her when he became the cop he wanted to be and he didn’t go to work for her Daddy at his bank like she wanted him to do and she started to get bitchy.

He also shared the infinitely scarier news that he moved into our complex because it had a gym and a running trail but he expected only to be there a couple of years while he saved to put down on a house. This news was infinitely scarier because he stayed there because he liked the gym, the running trail and seeing me in shorts or catching a glimpse of me next to the pool wearing a bikini in the summer.

As this knowledge threatened to break the hold he had on my freak out, Mitch deftly steered the conversation to music and movies. However, he lost his hold upon finding out I was an action movie freak then promptly declared I was the perfect woman because I had a great ass, long legs, “fantastic fuckin’ hair…and even better when it’s down”, liked baseball, “though…the Cubs…uh, baby” (this muttered on a teasing grin) and I also liked to watch things blow up.

At that, I started fidgeting in my seat, biting my lip, looking anywhere but him and trying not to hyperventilate at the same time wondering if he’d seen The A-Team. Mitch paid the bill and led me to the sidewalk.

He stopped us there and I tipped my head up to look at him.

“Can you walk more than a block on those heels?” he asked.

“Why?” I answered with a question.

“Can you walk more than a block on those heels?” he repeated.

“Yes,” I answered because I was getting to know Detective Mitch Lawson, fast, and I might be able to walk more than a block on my heels but my feet would start to hurt if I had to stand there and beat him at stubborn which might take an eternity.

His arm slid along my shoulders and he turned me into the boutique section of Cherry Creek. I slid my arm along his waist, liking the feel of it there with his hip and thigh sometimes brushing against mine as we walked. Two blocks up and one block in, he stopped us in front of a shop.

“That’s Penny’s,” he said, tipping his head to Design Fusion, the shop I already knew was his sister’s. A shop I’d been in once and left because the stuff in it was awesome but the price tags were more than a little scary.

I stared at the shop, all its cool furniture and even cooler accessories then I looked up at Mitch.

“That’s a great shop,” I whispered.

“You know she furnished my apartment,” Mitch stated, I nodded and he went on. “You’re pathologically shy and Penny’s a pathological decorator. She’s redecorated each of her kids’ rooms about five times. She has three and the oldest one is seven. And that’s just her kids’ rooms. She’s redecorated other rooms in her house so many times, I’ve lost count. Her husband, Evan, has declared citizen’s divorce twice. I was there both times. It wasn’t pretty.”

“Yikes,” I muttered, looking into the windows at the expensive but gorgeous wares on display and thinking if her kids’ rooms had that stuff in them, five times over, the unknown Evan must be a bazillionaire or he should be nominated for sainthood.

“He’s an excavator,” Mitch continued, giving me the information Evan was far from a bazillionaire and therefore sainthood was forthcoming. “They have a sofa in their house that cost nearly ten thousand dollars.” I gasped and my eyes shot to his. “She’s a nut. She’s a pain in the ass. She’s got champagne tastes and Evan’s never gonna be able to afford anything other than a beer budget. So he talked her into opening this shop so she could get champagne wholesale.”

“Smart move,” I noted.

“Yeah, now she can talk other people into spending their money. But it’s still her drug, sweetheart, and he’s made it so she can get her fix every day.”

I studied him because I was realizing this wasn’t just his latest conversational gambit to take my mind off freaking out but that he was trying to tell me something.

Mitch kept talking. “Penny’s the type of woman you don’t ignore because Penny’s the type of woman who doesn’t like to be ignored and won’t allow it. But, during the NCAA basketball playoffs, Evan disappears. You do not disturb Evan during any basketball game but to the outside world he ceases to exist during the playoffs.”

I waited for it. Mitch gave it to me.

“She gets this about him and ties herself in knots making sure nothing stops Evan getting his drug of choice. Not kids. Not phone calls. Not the need to get up and get another beer. Nothing.”

“So they enable each other,” I remarked, Mitch smiled and turned me so we were front to front and both his arms were around me.

“No,” he said softly. “They love each other. They know what the other likes, they know what the other needs to feed whatever is hungry in their soul and they give it to them. At least Penny does but Evan does too with only a minimal amount of bitching.”

I put my hands on his chest and asked, “What’s your drug of choice?”

“I’ve no idea,” he answered. “It’s not up to me to figure it out. But whoever I decide to share my life with needs to be a woman who ties herself in knots to give it to me.”

Oh boy. There it was.

“Mitch –”

“But only because I know I’m a man who’ll figure hers out and give it to her in return.”

And he was. I knew this to be true right down deep to the very heart of me.

“This is very heavy for a first date,” I decided to point out considering Mitch had switched from doing anything to make me not freak out, to saying a bunch of stuff that could do nothing but freak me out.

“I’ve shared more breakfasts with you than any woman I’ve dated in the last year and a half,” Mitch returned. “I know what you look like in the morning. I know what you act like when you come home tired after work. I know that you pick the least expensive thing on the menu either to be nice or to be annoying in order to put me off. But I think it’s to be nice because you are nice and also both times you thought you’d be spending time with just me, you dressed in a way that would not, in any way, put me off. I know you cuddle when you’re sleeping. I know you take only milk in your coffee and you make coffee strong. I know you’re really good with kids. And I know that you use music and scents to regulate your mood. So I’m thinking this is not a first date. This is more like us hittin’ the six month mark. And the six month mark is when you stop talkin’ about shit that really doesn’t matter and start talkin’ about shit that means everything.”

Okay. I’d hit it. I was freaking out. And I decided Mitch needed to know that.

Therefore, I told him, “You’re freaking me out.”

Then he freaked me out more by saying, “Good. My first strategy is working.”

I blinked. Then I stared. Then I asked, “Pardon?”

His head dipped closer to me. “I don’t know what’s gonna work with you, sweetheart, so I’m tryin’ this first and we’ll see. I need to switch things up…” he trailed off and I kept staring.

It was then I decided to share, “I like calm and to have peace of mind.”

“Kiss that good-bye,” Mitch advised.

Not a good answer.

“Um…” I mumbled, trying to pull away and failing. In fact, Mitch’s arms brought me closer and his face dipped even nearer.