“Workin’ on one,” he’d muttered. “Show it to you and Travis next time you’re on Chaos.”
I wasn’t really into cars.
But I couldn’t wait to see his.
At my gently probing questions, he also told me about himself and he did that easy too.
No hesitation.
He shared that he was an only child (which, with his parents, was probably good, though for him in that mess, it was sad he didn’t have at least one person to love and love him back). I found out he was only a few months older than me. He explained that he did live at the Compound because “no reason to pay for some crib when I got a life where all I need is a room” (I also found this sad, but didn’t have time to dwell).
I liked that he was easy. It wasn’t like he went on and on, sharing deeply, opening a window to his soul, trusting me with his hopes and dreams.
But it was a first date and I didn’t think that was what you got on a first date. However, he wasn’t closed and secretive like his eyes made it seem like he would be.
I’d take easy. In fact, I ate it up because I found I wanted to know everything about Joker. So when he gave me easy, I didn’t push for more. I let him say what he had to say and didn’t probe further. With as easy as he gave me, I knew it would come, so there wasn’t a reason to push.
This meant (in my mind) that by the time we were finished eating, the date was a smashing success.
Or I thought it was.
Joker finished his meal before I did since I’d spent quite a bit of time during the meal seeing to my baby. So I took my last few bites of my burrito chicharrones while Joker had a drowsy Travis against his chest, Travis’s head drooping on his shoulder.
That was when I looked up from my nearly clean plate and gawked because Lee and Indy Nightingale, the famous Denver couple who had their story told in the Rock Chick books, were walking from the back of the restaurant, heading our way.
I couldn’t help but stare because they were famous but also because, frankly, Lee Nightingale was even more gorgeous in person. And in the pictures of him I’d seen in the paper, he was fabulous.
And just like Joker when he was with Travis, since Lee had a redheaded little girl held to his chest, resting her cheek on her daddy’s shoulder, he was even more gorgeous.
Not to mention, Indy Nightingale was a knockout. As was the Lee Nightingale mini-me who was holding her hand and walking at her side.
I forced myself to stop gawking and was about to kick Joker under the table when Lee Nightingale looked toward us, tilted his head and stopped.
“Joke,” he greeted.
Oh my gosh! Lee Nightingale knew Joker!
“Lee,” Joker replied.
First-name basis!
“Hey,” Indy Nightingale said and I looked to her to see she was addressing me.
“Hey,” I replied, hoping it was casually.
She grinned. “Your baby is cute.”
“Thanks. Your kids are too.”
She kept grinning.
“You wear it well.”
This came deep and easy from Lee and I looked to him to see he was aiming a drop dead gorgeous smile chock full of amusement Joker and Travis’s way.
“Don’t piss me off. Carissa fines me every time I cuss,” Joker replied.
I got warm inside.
“Does that work?” Indy asked me curiously.
“Not so far,” I answered.
“I figured,” she mumbled.
Suddenly Lee went all business. “Tack called. I’m on your gig. I’ll have results in a day or two.”
“Appreciated,” Joker replied.
Lee nodded.
“This is Lee and I’m Indy, by the way,” Indy said to me. “And these are our offspring, Callum and Suki.”
Like I didn’t know. Everyone in Denver knew them. Though I didn’t know about Callum and Suki.
“I kinda know who you are,” I admitted.
“That figures too,” she said with a not-a-problem smile.
I smiled back then did my bit. “Like Joker said, I’m Carissa and that’s my baby, Travis.”
“So cute,” Indy repeated.
“Yeah,” little Suki muttered sleepily. “Cute baby.”
I grinned at her.
Lee turned to me. “Carissa, nice to meet you and sorry to make it short but we gotta go. My baby girl needs her bed.”
So totally gorgeous.
I turned my grin to him. “Nice to meet you too.”
“We’ll leave you to it,” Lee said. “Later.”
Lee gave chin lifts, Indy waved, Callum gave a distracted hand flick (totally a mini-me), and Suki just gave a small wave goodbye.
When I was sure they were gone, I turned to Joker and hissed enthusiastically, “I can’t believe you know Lee Nightingale.”
“He’s tight with the Club.”
How cool!
“Is he as awesome as he seems to be?” I asked.
“If by awesome you mean he’s a supreme badass and so good at his job it’s kinda scary, then yeah.”
I sort of meant that.
I smiled and shared, “Bad-A is a nickel, sweetie.”
When I was done talking, I pulled in a sharp breath.
I did this because his eyes went semi-molten in a way that the banked heat in them warmed my skin.
Joker didn’t address what was behind his molten look.
He murmured quietly, “He’s mostly asleep, Butterfly. He isn’t hearin’ anything.”
“Still.”
“And a badass is a badass. There’s no other word for it.”
I had to give him that.
“Whatever,” I muttered, grabbing one final chip, dipping it into LD’s famous salsa, and eating it. I sucked back my Sprite then Joker and I did the whole packing up, carting out, loading up the vehicle drill.
But doing it, something that was just a part of life became something new that I liked, sharing the chore with Joker.
He took us home and again commandeered baby and diaper bag, leaving me only with my purse to haul up the steps, another break for which I was extremely grateful.
But I was again nervous.
Travis was out. Since the breast milk/formula change he’d turned into a good sleeper. And when he was done for the evening, in most cases, he stayed that way.
That meant he’d get a sleepy diaper change then into his PJs and finally into his crib.
After that, I’d be alone with Joker in my house with my huge couch.
Yes, I was nervous but in a way I liked the feeling.
My stomach had butterflies. My lips had a smile playing at them. My night had been great.