He turned back. “I can make her happy.”
“Good job you’ve done of it.”
He leaned toward Joker. “She needs you now, friend. What happens when she doesn’t?”
“She’ll still be with me.”
He leaned back, smiling a nasty smile. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Dream world, Steele,” he scoffed.
Joker pushed away from his bike and turned fully toward him, watching the man go alert but keep his position. Though his eyes darting side to side said it all.
He didn’t want to lose face but he needed an escape plan, because he knew if it came down to fists, he’d take a beating.
But Joker didn’t move an inch toward him.
“Didn’t wanna get into this, and you don’t get it all. It’s mine and Carrie’s. But she gets from me what she didn’t get from you in a variety of ways, Neiland. She loves it. Some, she begs for it.”
“Crass, but not surprising,” he hissed.
“You mistake me,” Joker said quietly. “Part of it I see you get, but you don’t get it all. You’re so up your own ass you think she’s gotta work for it to make her deserve you. You go your own way, do your own thing, get off with who you want when you want. Test after test, and she passes, accepts you as however you wanna be, or she’s out. With me, she told me, straight up, it’s easy. I give her easy. We’re easy. And that’s because she knows where she stands with me and that ground I put her on, man, is not shaky. Now, I ask you, you want her back so bad, you want your family, then I gotta think you got some feeling for her. Some small amount a’ feeling. If you don’t, then this is not about her but about you havin’ a need to best her, or me, or both of us. But if you feel something, what I’d wanna know is, why wouldn’t you want her to have easy?”
Again, unable to counter, Neiland announced, “We’re done,” and turned away.
“Of course we are,” Joker muttered, looking to his boots.
“Man to man, as you obviously want this to be,” Neiland said and Joker looked back at him. “Once I’m done with you, Carissa won’t want herself or our son anywhere near you.”
“Good luck with that, friend,” Joker replied.
Another sneer. “You’ve no idea.”
Without hesitation, Joker gave him his ideas.
“She knows I was a fighter. She knows I smoked pot. She knows and likes every member of my Club.”
“She know a hooker had your name carved into her belly?” he retorted.
“I didn’t share the location, but yeah, she knows that too.”
Neiland blinked.
“Got more?” Joker asked, but he knew he didn’t, so as Neiland stood there staring at him, Joker shook his head. “Then I guess we’re done.”
“We’re far from done.”
Joker kept shaking his head and started to turn to his bike.
“She has a man with a criminal record looking after our son,” he bit out, and Joker grinned but he did it so he wouldn’t laugh.
He looked back to him. “Good call, go after Pete. That’ll work.”
Neiland exposed uncertainty for only a beat before he hid it and said, “That doesn’t say Carissa’s able to make appropriate decisions about our child’s upbringing.”
“You sure you wanna share your whole strategy with me? If you do, I’m cool, but give me a second to get some paper so I can take notes.”
“You’re an asshole,” he sneered.
“I’m in love with your ex-wife,” Joker returned, no amusement in his voice, his eyes locked to Neiland’s. “I’ve loved her since high school, man. She means everything to me. You gotta drag her down, that’ll suck, but I’ll pick her back up. You gotta rip her apart, I’ll fuckin’ hate watchin’ it, but I’ll put her back together. Do what you gotta do to make you feel like you got the bigger dick. But know this, in the end, it’s gonna be her and me. So take your shot. Spend your money. Score those marks on your soul. Scar your son. Push her to the point she can’t stand the sight of you. But do it knowin’ that’s all on you. Just like everything that went before, it’s all on you.”
With that, Joker dismissed him. Turning to his bike, mounting it, switching the ignition, backing out, he didn’t even look at the man.
He rode away knowing that wouldn’t be the end. He also rode away knowing he had to have a chat with his brothers.
But he rode away hoping that whatever end that man pushed for, it didn’t scar his son.
The rest, Joker had in hand.
* * *
He wasn’t surprised Carissa was tense that Monday while waiting for Neiland to return Travis.
He just didn’t know all the reasons why she was tense.
When the man showed, like he’d been making a habit of doing, Joker stood back, making sure she knew he had her back and Neiland registered his presence.
This time, fortunately, the drop off lasted a much shorter time.
But it curled nauseatingly in his gut, watching as Neiland tried to crawl right up her ass, deciding to ignore Joker and focus solely on her, giving so much saccharine, it was a wonder the room didn’t explode with it.
But she was all about her kid, forcing the courtesy, and the two boxes that Neiland made a big show about going back to his car and getting for her.
She was only slightly pushy in closing the door on his ass.
But once he was gone, cuddling Travis to her, she moved right to the window and watched him go.
So Joker did too.
The second the Lexus pulled from the curb, Carissa was in his space.
“Say hi to Joker, sweetie pie. Mommy’s gotta do something real quickly,” she said, giving Travis a kiss, a cuddle and handing him off to Joker.
Then she dropped right down to the boxes, tearing off the tape.
Joker gave his own cuddles to the kid, glad to have him back, his weight in his arms, hearing the noises he made.
But his eyes were on Carissa.
She dug through the first box in a frenzy, and watching it, Joker felt his frame string tight.
“Carrie, what the—?”
He cut himself off when she made a weird, panicky noise, turned desperately to the next box and tore off the tape.
Travis started fretting in his arm.
“Carrie,” he whispered as she pulled back the flaps and dug through.
Then suddenly, she yanked a frame to her chest and fell to her ass, knees up, curling her upper body over it, rocking.
He crouched beside her. “Baby.”
“Now I have everything I need from him. Now I don’t need anything from him. Now I have everything I need,” she said like a chant, her voice husky.
Travis made an unhappy sound as Joker lifted his hand and pulled her hair away from her shoulder.
He saw the tears wetting her cheek.
“Carrie,” his voice, too, was thick, “talk to me.”
Her damp eyes came to him as she uncurled, dropping her arms and the back of the frame hit her thighs, exposing what was in it.
Joker looked at it and his throat closed.
“Now I have everything I need,” she whispered, her words trembling.
Joker dropped to a knee, tightened his arm on her boy, holding him close as he slid the fingers of his other hand into her hair, pulling her head back gently.
He went in for the kiss.
Travis gave them what they needed, allowing time for Joker’s mouth to move on hers, drinking at the same time giving her all he had to give in order to say all he had to say.
Then the kid was done and they both knew it when he shrieked, latched on and yanked on both their hair.
Which meant when they quit kissing, they were smiling.
* * *
That night in a big bed with expensive sheets and a fantastic mattress, while a little boy snoozed in his crib a room away, Carson Steele and Carissa Teodoro slept a deep sleep, tangled together with a sketch in a frame resting on Carissa’s nightstand.
In its proper place.
Where it should be.
As was everything and every being in that home.
In its proper place.
Precisely where it should be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Being Right
Joker
JOKER WAS STANDING in the garage, hands to hips, staring at the car he was building, its hood up, new engine shining, scratch guards draped over the sides, interior empty because the seats they’d ordered wouldn’t be in for a couple of days.
But if they stayed on schedule, they’d be turning the key at the end of the next day.
He just hoped she’d turn over and catch. As many builds as he’d done, that was always a crapshoot, and if it didn’t happen, finding out why could tack on anywhere from half an hour to half a week.
“Joker! Honey! You have a visitor!”
He turned to the door to the office at Cherry’s call.
Then he smiled when he saw the man walk out behind her.
Mr. Robinson. Keith.
The man had his hand out before they met, and they were shaking when they did.
“You told me to call,” Keith said. “But I was close so I thought I’d just stop by.”
“Glad you did,” Joker replied, breaking contact.
Keith’s eyes went to the car. “Is she yours?”
Joker looked to the car too. “The one I’m workin’ on now, yeah.”
Joker felt the man’s eyes on him when he stated, “She’s a beauty.”
He looked to Keith and grinned. “Wanna see?”
Keith nodded and Joker led him to the car.
“So what’s your responsibility with this?” Keith asked as they walked.
“All a’ it,” Joker told him.
They stopped by the car and Keith looked to him. “Sorry?”
“Design, chassis, body, exhaust, suspension, transmission, engine, wheels, interior, paint.” He looked to the car. “Bumper to bumper, roof to wheels, she’s mine.”
“That’s, uh… I… Carson…” Joker looked back to him as he stammered. “That’s incredibly impressive.”
That felt good, but even so, Joker shrugged.
“My job,” he muttered and went on, “Don’t stitch leather or anything. Most of the interior we subcontract the build or restore, utilizing kickass shit we find in vehicles that are beyond restoration. We refurbish and manipulate it to fit. And I don’t paint. We got a paint guy who does that, another one who does pinstriping. I envision airbrushing, I do some a’ that, but if it’s time-consuming, we’re on deadline and I don’t got that time, we got a guy who helps out—”
“You airbrush?” Keith asked and again Joker shrugged.
“Yeah.”
Slowly, Keith smiled before he said, “I’d like to see some of that.”
Joker nodded. “Cherry’s got a book in the office of old builds. I can—”
He stopped talking when he heard, “Sweetie!”
He turned and didn’t even try to stop his big smile when he saw Carissa hurrying toward him wearing a cute dress that swung around her thighs, exposing her legs from the knees down, high-heeled, girlie sandals, her hair loose and big, light makeup, Travis on her hip.
And with her was Mrs. Heely.
“Look who I have!” she cried, turning slightly to indicate Mrs. Heely.
“Yo, Butterfly,” he called and looked to the woman with her. “Momma Heely.”
Mrs. Heely rolled her eyes.
Carissa came right to him, deep into his space, hand to his stomach, and rolled up to kiss his stubbled jaw.
Travis latched on in a way that when she pulled back, he was still claiming Joker. Joker took the hint and pulled the kid into his arms.
“Yo, boy,” he said to him.
“Goo, dah, bah,” Travis replied.
“That good a day?” Joker asked.
“Bah!” Travis agreed, lifting his hands and smacking Joker in the jaw with one, the mouth with the other, where he curled in and tugged.
Joker let him and did it grinning.
Then he turned and bent to Mrs. Heely so she could touch her hand to his cheek.
Her eyes were smiling but her lips were muttering, “And again, he doesn’t shave.”
He kept grinning at her as he straightened away.
“Oh my gosh! Look at this! It’s all coming together from your sketch and it’s amazing!” Carissa cried and Joker turned to her to see her hands clasped in front of her.
Then she leaned into the cover over the fender and watching her do it, he decided after the ignition caught, the test runs were done, it was late, and the garage was deserted, he was dropping the hood and fucking her right there.
In those shoes.
She turned to him and exclaimed again, “Amazing!” She twisted to look at Mrs. Heely. “Isn’t this amazing?”
“Did you build this, Carson?” the woman asked, and Carson looked to her to see she looked her brand of what Carissa looked.
Amazed.
“Yeah,” he muttered.
Mrs. Heely moved eyes shining with pride to him. “Obviously, I don’t see myself behind the wheel, but that makes it no less magnificent.”
“I see it’s unanimous,” Keith put in, and Joker caught Carissa straightening from the car and turning to him.
“I’m so sorry. We interrupted. I…” Her eyes got huge, Carson took in how cute that was, and she clapped her hands in front of her three times and yelled, “Mr. Robinson!”
“You caught me,” Keith said on a smile.
Carissa rushed him and gave him a quick hug. She leaned back, hands still on his biceps, smiling like a lunatic up in his face.
“This is so wonderful!” she exclaimed. “Are you here because you heard about Wilde and Hay?”
She let him go and stepped away as Keith shook his head, looking mildly confused, and asked, “Sorry, no. Wilde and Hay?”
“They’re doing a big spread on Joker,” she told him then added, “Carson,” when Keith continued to look confused.
The man stopped looking confused as his eyes slowly turned to Joker.
“No,” he answered Carissa quietly. “Just came to see Carson’s work. I had no idea.” His voice dropped quieter. “But I’m not surprised.”
Joker hefted up Travis, who’d let go of his lip but latched on to his shirt, and Keith’s eyes went to the kid.
Joker stopped feeling the good that was heating his chest, and he braced when Keith took in Travis.
His eyes came back. “You didn’t mention you and Carissa had a son.”
Before Joker could say anything, Carissa pushed under his arm, forcing him to drape it around her shoulders (not that he wouldn’t do that anyway), and curling hers around his waist as she pressed into his side and said, “Travis is Aaron Neiland’s, Mr. Robinson. We were married. Now we’re not and I’m with Jo… Carson.”
“Ah,” Keith murmured.
Carissa reached across and gently pulled Travis’s hand from Joker’s shirt. Waving it at Keith, she ordered, “Say hello to Mr. Robinson, Googly.”
“Gah doo,” Travis said, yanked his hand from his ma’s and shoved his fist in his mouth.
Mr. Robinson smiled.
“That’s why we’re here, sweetie, kind of,” she said and Joker looked down at her to see her looking up at him. “Mrs. Heely wanted to meet Travis so I took him around. We got to chatting. Then we spoke to Kam. We’re having everyone over for dinner tonight. Is that okay?”
She had an ulterior motive, he knew. She’d been on about getting Mrs. Heely in the house across the street since she’d noticed it was for rent.
It was Tuesday. They hadn’t even had Travis back for twenty-four hours. And now she was using Mrs. Heely asking to meet her boy as her excuse to wrangle what she wanted.
Having Mrs. Heely across the street would absolutely not suck, so he told her, “It’s good with me.”
“Great!” she cried, bouncing a little at his side with
her excitement, something that was cute and hot. Then she pulled away. “Oh my gosh! So rude. Mr. Robinson, this is Mrs. Heely. She used to be Carson’s neighbor but she’s really Carson’s family,” she announced.
Mrs. Heely visibly swelled with pride as she offered her hand.
“Mr. Robinson was our history teacher in high school,” Joker told her.
Mrs. Heely’s eyes lit. “Lovely to meet you, and so nice to see a teacher taking a continuing interest in his students.”
They were holding hands in greeting as Keith replied, “There’s always been lots to be interested in with Carson, as is evidenced right there.”
They broke off with Mrs. Heely smiling. “I wholeheartedly agree.”
“Me too,” Carissa mumbled under her breath.
Fuck, this crew didn’t shut the fuck up about how awesome he was, he’d actually have to acknowledge it. It felt great, but it was still awkward as shit.
Like she knew what he was feeling, Carissa bulldozed right in there.
“Now, I hate to say it, but it’s already late and we have to get to the grocery store.” She looked to Keith. “We’re suddenly feeding nine people. I need to get food in.” She tipped her head to the side. “Would you like to join us?”
“Some other time, Carissa. My wife and I have plans tonight,” Keith answered.
“Bummer, but I understand. Short notice. We’ll set it up for another night.” She turned to Mrs. Heely. “You ready to hit the store?”
“Whenever you are,” Mrs. Heely answered.
She came back to Joker, lifting her hands to her son. “Come on, baby boy, Mommy and Mrs. Heely need to get to the grocery store pronto.”
Travis lurched in Joker’s arms, tried to find purchase on his jaw, and shouted, “Bah, moo mah!”
She shot her eyes to Joker like she did anytime Travis said “moo mah,” convinced it was “mommy.”
Joker didn’t know if she was right. But he liked to see her face when it happened.
She tore her eyes from Joker’s and put her hands to her son, who started climbing on Joker, shouting, “Bah! Dah! Kah! Duh! Buh!” then he pounded on Joker’s shoulder and gave her angry baby face.
“He’s good with me,” he told her.