This didn’t sound good and the tightening in his gut started not to feel so hot. Vi had had a f**kwad stalker after her. Vi’s, unfortunately, was a criminal mastermind who also happened to be a psychopath with resources. Lightning didn’t strike twice so it was doubtful LeBrec was that caliber of nutjob. Still, Mike didn’t need this shit. Dusty, living alone over a thousand miles away with a newly dead brother, a business to run and a gallery show coming up needed it less.
“’Spect you got some idea of how to offer that lesson so it sinks in,” Mike replied.
“Got a couple I’m willin’ to investigate.”
“Well you just got the greenlight and that’s not comin’ from me. Dusty may or may not be home tonight. Either way, it’s clear from both you and her you’re tight so I’d appreciate it if you saw to LeBrec without delay. And Dusty’s holdin’ on but losin’ Darrin is gonna take some gettin’ used to so your woman is up too.”
“Gotcha,” Rivera murmured then said less quietly, “Payback is you FedEx some ‘a those donuts she’s always on about.”
Dusty talked about him. Twenty years, she didn’t forget their bond and talked to her girl about him along with Hilligoss.
Good company.
“Can’t, man, you gotta get ‘em fresh from the rack. You come up here, they’re on me,” Mike offered.
“Deal” Rivera replied. “You cool with me storin’ your number?”
This meant checking in.
“Absolutely.”
“Right.” Rivera said and Mike could hear his smile so he knew Rivera got where he was at. “So, she had a crush on you when she was a kid and you were nailin’ her sister. How’d you feel about little Dusty?”
“In the last thirty seconds, you form a vagina?” Mike returned and heard Rivera’s loud burst of hearty laughter.
He just didn’t want to talk. No offense meant, none taken.
Yeah, he liked this guy.
Rivera quit laughing and started talking. “Solid, you had one day with our girl and Dusty’s out gettin’ you donuts. I drag my woman up there, you gotta tell me how I can get her ass outta bed to get me donuts. It’s always me draggin’ my carcass to the bakery Sunday mornin’.”
“She snuck out while I was sleeping or no way she’d be out in the cold at six o’clock in the morning.”
“I hear you, brother,” Rivera said quietly.
Yep. Definitely liked this guy.
“You’ll keep me in the loop?” Mike asked.
“You got it. I’ll have my word with Beau and I’ll have a word with a coupla my boys. We’ll keep an eye on our girl.”
“Appreciated,” Mike muttered.
“No problems…and, Mike?”
“Yeah?”
“Be cool, we meet you soon.”
He knew what that meant.
So he remarked, “Figure I better put in earplugs in preparation for the scream.”
“Yeah, I might not have a vagina but this shit’s too good not to share. Also it’ll put Jerra in a certain mood. Sorry, bro, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do to get him some on a Sunday.”
Mike smiled down at Layla who’d dropped the Frisbee at his feet and had her ass in the snow, long tail sweeping the blanket of white behind her, head tipped back, tongue lolling, not so patiently waiting.
“Knock yourself out,” Mike muttered.
“Cool. Later Mike.”
“Later.”
Mike hit the button on the phone, bent, retrieved the Frisbee and let fly before he shoved his phone back into his pocket.
And he did this still smiling.
*
“Waking up next to you. The smell of Hilligoss. Being number five in line. Going back to you. Morning nookie with you. Shower with you. Jerra calling me and cracking my shit up because Hunter spilled about you and me and she was so excited she said two thousand, seven hundred and fifty-two words in the expanse of sixty seconds and that’s it.”
Standing outside security at Indianapolis International Airport, holding Dusty in his arms and not wanting to let her go, Mike was not following.
“Pardon?”
“Counting my blessings, babe.”
He grinned down at her.
“I could count the reasons I want to commit murder, and, for your information, officer, this urge only threatens to overwhelm me when my sister is involved, but her getting up in my shit about you is the one and only reason.”
Mike stopped grinning.
Mike got the call that Dusty was heading out. Mr. and Mrs. Holliday were concerned about Rhonda and the boys so, although they’d planned to stay for another week, they’d taken Dusty aside to have a private word after brunch. They’d then told her they were going to stretch that week into two. Maybe three. They knew Dusty had her thing happening and they had her back. They also wanted to be there for Rhonda, Finley and Kirby.
So she was going.
But when she went back to the hotel to pack and call him, Debbie had been waiting for her. Debbie had shared she’d seen them together in the parking lot, she’d lost her mind and laid into Dusty. Dusty laid in right back. They had a screaming match that brought the hotel manager to the room. Debbie stormed out. Dusty called Mike, shared this information then waited until he arrived and checked out.
The good news about this was that Debbie had not done this in front of the family and inferred during the fight that she didn’t intend to share, “You f**ked my ex-boyfriend while Darrin is still fresh in his grave,” because it would, “Just break Mom’s heart.”
With Dusty going, Debbie knowing about them and being on a tear about it, that was the only good news there was.
When he’d told her about his call, Dusty, being what he was learning was Dusty, didn’t give a shit that Rivera put one and one together and got the budding couple that was Mike and Dusty.
She’d just grinned and said, “So she knows about five hours before she would have known. No skin off my nose.”
Mike had to admit, after Audrey’s unrelenting bullshit and Vi’s unrelenting but unintentional drama, the laidback Dusty was a breath of seriously f**king fresh air.
“Debbie’ll get home, get involved in her life and cool down,” Mike told her. “It’ll all be good.”
“Debbie’ll carry this shit to her grave,” Dusty muttered then winced because she herself had struck close to the bone.
“Honey,” he whispered.