Joke

by Mia Malone

  “We’ve found Joanie,” Mac said as he walked out on the porch.

  Damien Lewis straightened when he saw the look on his friend’s face and felt the others do the same.

  Joanie had been a part-time waitress at the local diner, and also a sweet, funny but desperate woman who he had unceremoniously kicked out of his bed when she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She’d left town in a huff, or so they thought. Then Joke and Sissy had found her car, and it had generally been assumed that she’d been in an accident and had been swept away by a flash flood.

  The look on Mac’s face indicated something else.

  “Where?” Paddy asked and took hold of Jenny’s hand.

  Jenny had been Joanie’s boss, and she pressed her lips together as they waited for Mac to share what he could.

  “A family passing through the area found her. Kids needed to pee, so they stopped by the road. Walked some distance away so they wouldn’t be seen and stumbled on her foot. Someone had buried her.”

  “What?” Day barked out. “Where?”

  She’d been in a car accident, so why would anyone –

  “Buddy,” Mac said quietly, and Day’s blood froze. “Ten minutes south of Wilhelmine, by the highway.”

  Ten minutes south of –

  “At my place?”

  “On your land,” Mac confirmed. “Close to the small turnaround, just past the road down to your place.”

  They had gathered on Gibson’s back porch and the only thing that could be heard for a long time were a couple of birds, chirping happily as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Day stared at the mountains and tried to get his brain to process the fact that a woman had been buried on land that had been in his family for three generations.

  “Okay,” he murmured when no one said a word.

  “Kills me, Day,” Mac said, still speaking quietly. “I know you were heading out today, but I’m gonna have to ask you to stay here a while.”

  “What?”

  “I know you had nothing to do with it, but I have to ask you to stay in Wilhelmine. I’d ask the same from anyone else.”

  Day turned his eyes back toward the mountains and sighed. He’d planned to go to Malaysia, which was one of the very few countries he’d never been to, and it hadn’t been for any particular reason, but he’d really wanted to go. He’d planned to stop by a few of his kids on his way there too. Mac was right, though. They’d want to ask him questions. He’d rejected the woman, and now she was found dead on his property. The far edge of it, but still.

  “Okay,” he said quietly. “Not a problem, man. I get it.”

  “Are you sure it’s Joanie?” Jenny asked quietly.

  “Can’t talk about it, you know that. The investigation is ongoing.”

  Jenny held Mac’s calm gaze for a while, and then she nodded.

  “You found her earrings,” she said. “She always wore them. Big. Custom made. Have you talked to her parents?”

  “Yeah,” Mac said. “Called them this morning. Not a fun call to make but they held it together. They’re on their way here.”

  Jenny nodded again.

  “I want to see them when they get here.”

  Mac nodded and turned to Day.

  “I know what I’m asking,” he said quietly. “Would do it if I didn’t have to.”

  “It’s okay,” Day said and wondered just how insane his friends thought he was.

  He'd be okay staying in his own goddamned house for a while. The memories his home held were painful, but they were also from a time he barely remembered anymore, so he’d be fine. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t stayed in Wilhelmine for stretches of time over the years. Sure, he’d always had tickets booked to go somewhere, and the option to leave whenever he wanted to, but still. He could stay a while without going stir crazy. Right?

  “Bebe moved into your guesthouse this morning,” Lee said. “I can ask her to stay with us instead.”

  Shit. He’d promised to let a friend of one of Lee’s friends rent the guesthouse while he was gone.

  “Bebe?” he asked, and went on, “I’m sure it won’t be a problem. Separate houses, won’t see her much.”

  “It’s just…”

  Lee looked uncomfortable, and he raised his brows.

  “What?”

  “Not sure you’re gonna like this,” Gibson said warningly and shifted closer to Lee.

  The others were moving too, and Day’s brows went up. Did they think he was going to attack her or something?

  “I repeat; what?” Day said.

  “She didn’t exactly like you when you met the last time.”

  Ah, hell. Day knew who was in his guesthouse. The stunningly gorgeous redhead who was the college friend of Lee’s ex-husband’s cousin, Beth. The one who had called him an asshole and put her fist in his face in a way that had hurt more than he’d been willing to admit.

  “Okay,” he said for what felt like the tenth time.

  “I’ll ask her to –”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to her. See why she’s so pissed. I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Day said.

  He had no clue why the woman had exploded on him and felt pretty sure it was some kind of misunderstanding he could clear up with a short conversation involving a few smiles, and possibly him making dinner.

  “You won’t see much of her,” Lee said slowly. “She’s got a deadline and probably won’t leave the house at all.”

  “Deadline?”

  “She’s a writer, and Bethie said the book wasn’t going too well. Used the words crunch time.”

  “She’s a writer?”

  Lee was suddenly squirming, and to Day’s surprise, Gibson’s lips twitched.

  “Yeah,” Lee said casually.

  Too casually.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing,” Lee said quickly and again in that ridiculously casual voice.

  “Is she famous?”

  “A little. She wrote her first book almost ten years ago, and it shot straight up the charts. Mostly in her genre but it hit a note with a lot of women. She’s released plenty of books since then and people… appreciate them.”

  “Would I have read anything she’s written?”

  “Probably not.”

  Lee’s voice had gone from casual to breezy, and she waved her hand dismissively.

  “I read a lot, so I might have,” Day said.

  “I don’t think so,” Lee said and moved as if to get up.

  “Her genre?” Mac asked calmly.

  Gib put an arm around Lee’s shoulders and murmured something.

  “Romance...” Lee said and made a face as she added, “ish.”

  “Romanceish?”

  “Alright,” Lee snapped. “She writes erotica, okay?”

  There was a stunned silence, and then Joke cleared his throat.

  “Porn.”

  “Erotica.”

  “Yeah, babe,” Joke said, and his eyes were suddenly full of laughter. “Porn.”

  “E-ro-ti-ca,” Lee insisted, enunciating the word as if Joke had a hearing impairment.

  “What’s her pen name?” Mac asked when it looked like Joke would insist right back at Lee.

  “Simona Chantelle.”

  There was another stunned silence, and then Mac grinned.

  “You’re right,” he said to Joke. “It’s porn.”

  “It’s not,” Lee wailed.

  “Her pen name is a porn name,” Paddy chimed in.

  Gibson chuckled but raised his hands, palms facing Lee when she rounded on him.

  “Sorry, babe. You know I like Bebe, but they’re right. That is such a porn name.”

  Lee glared at him and was about to say something when Joke started laughing.

  “So you did a woman who writes porn, huh?” he asked and Day sighed since they were all looking at him.

  “I didn’t do her. Don’t do redheads you know that.”

  “You don’t do redheads,” Lee said scornfully
. “What the hell is up with that?”

  “We all have our peccadillos,” Day retorted, not at all willing to discuss his preferences when it came to his partners.

  Lee’s mouth snapped shut, and her lips twitched.

  “You have a point,” she conceded.

  “Is she good?” Day asked.

  “Yeah, she is. I got a few of her books after they stopped by last year,” Lee said.

  “So you read porn,” Paddy said affably.

  “Erotica,” Lee snapped. “It’s... she’s good.”

  A faint blush on her cheeks and the way Gibson’s face was suddenly very blank was an indication that either or both of them had enjoyed reading books which apparently were slightly more than somewhat steamy.

  “Let me see one of them,” Day said and waved his hand. The others turned but he was genuinely curious, and he hadn’t lied. He read a lot, so he’d flip through a few pages and if his houseguest’s books were indeed good, he’d read them. “What? I’m gonna share space with her. I want to see.”

  Lee walked inside and Day grinned at the others.

  “Might not be so bad to have her in my guesthouse after all,” he said.

  “Fuck it, Day. You can’t do her,” Gibson grunted.

  “Why not?”

  “She’s Beth’s friend which means she’s Lee’s friend. Things go sour, I’m gonna be in the middle of that. Neither of us wants that to happen.”

  Ah. Gib had a point, but it wasn't as if Day had scores of disgruntled ex-lovers all over the country. In fact, he always made an effort to make sure anything he started ended on amicable terms.

  Lee came back and threw a book on the table.

  “Her first,” she said. “Rebound. It’s about a woman who splits up from her husband and goes on a rebound tour to find out who she is. She also meets… men.” Her face softened and then she grinned. “Many men.”

  Joke suddenly made a low, throaty sound that was part laughter part a cough, but Day ignored him and picked up the book. The cover was full of nothing but a ripped, ridiculously shaved and tanned chest. Then he leaned his elbows on his knees, opened the book and started reading.

  I met him at a bar that first time, and he was gorgeous. His thick, jet-black hair was a little too long, so a lock fell over his forehead, and the short, carefully groomed beard looked like something I’d enjoy if it were scraping the inside of my thighs while he moved his mouth over me. His broad chest stretched a soft, gray tee to its limits, and the way it clung to his abs made me wonder if he had it tailor made.

  “Do you want to be my rebound fuck?” I asked and watched eyes the color of expensive brandy light up with humor but also anticipation.

  “Sure,” he said lazily. “Right now?”

  We walked in silence through the bar, got into an elevator which would take us to my room and I tilted my head back to look at him.

  “Kiss me,” I said quietly.

  He did, and I ignited…

  The others were talking, but their voices were only a soft blur in the background as he kept reading. Then he leaned his head down and tried to breathe.

  “Day?” Paddy asked.

  He raised his head and looked around the group of people who all were staring at him.

  “She had brown hair,” he said hoarsely.

  He felt someone pull the book out of his hand, and he heard Lee squeal something, but all that went through his mind was a low, angry, “What in the fucking hell?”

  “It’s about you?” Joke asked.

  He sounded strangled, but laughter echoed around the porch.

  “Did her once, so that part is me. The rest… I don’t know.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” Mac exclaimed, snorting out laughter. “You slapped her ass and told her you’d call before walking out the door? After a five-minute fuck against the wall?”

  “Let me see,” Paddy ordered and Day tried to grab the book, but Mac threw it over the table to Paddy.

  “Jesus,” Joke sighed. “You sure it was only once?”

  “What the hell, Joke?” Day snarled.

  Joke was suddenly grinning, and he raised his hands.

  “Gave Siss that book a while back. She liked it.” His brows wiggled in a way Day found stupid. “Might have… inspired us.”

  “Oh my God! You re-enacted Day’s sex-scenes,” Lee squealed.

  “Uh, babe,” Gibson said, grinning crookedly.

  Fuck it. They had been inspired too, it seemed.

  “They aren’t my sex-scenes,” Day roared. “Did her once, upon her explicit request, I might add. Great sex, although I honestly thought she was bluffing. She was sloshed, so I figured I’d better get her to her fucking room before someone took her up on her offer…”

  Silence. Well, fuck it. How was he supposed to explain what had happened without sounding like a goddamned pussy?

  “And then you…” Mac said with brows high on his forehead, which changed into a teasing grin. “Ignited.”

  Loud laughter rolled over the porch and Day growled.

  “Your eyes aren’t the color of brandy,” Gibson added. “They’re brown.”

  “Ah, but it was expensive brandy,” Paddy murmured with a chuckle and turned the page.

  “Fuck all of you,” Day snorted. “Fucking shit.”

  “You slapped her butt and just left her like that?” Jenny asked, reading over Paddy’s shoulder. “Rude.”

  “Had a fucking meeting,” Day said.

  He’d had a meeting and he’d also been unsettled about what had happened. The sex had been pretty amazing, but the way her gray eyes watched him had cut right through him. There had been a strange, desperate look in them that had made his gut clench in a way he hadn’t liked.

  “No one knows it’s you,” Mac said. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Yeah,” Paddy said. “No one will guess that you push out deep, rumbling roars that vibrates through –”

  Day got up so fast the chair turned over.

  “Day, man,” Paddy said. “Calm down. I was just joking.”

  “Fuck you,” Day said, turned to the group in general and added slightly louder, “Fuck you.”

  Then he walked down the steps and toward his car.

  “Where are you going?” Gibson called out as he came jogging after him.

  “I’m gonna go and have a small chat with the author,” Day snarled, and slammed the door shut before Gibson reached him.

  ***

  Beatrice

  I had unpacked my bags, made coffee in the fantastic espresso machine, walked around the house to look at my surroundings, and was about to find something else to procrastinate with when my phone rang.

  “Hey, Lee,” I said. “This place is great.”

  “Lock the doors.”

  “What?”

  “Day is on his way over. We were talking and… yeah. He read the first part of Rebound. There were parts he… recognized.”

  Oh. Shit.

  I’d never in my life imagined meeting him again, and even when we met, I figured it would be safe. No way Damien Lewis would ever read erotic romance novels. My readers were women. I had a small group of gay men who for some reason got off on what I wrote, but apart from that; Women, age thirty and older. Rebound was also published ten years ago so even if he read erotica, he wouldn’t pick that one.

  “Lock the doors, Bebe,” Lee wailed. “He was not happy.”

  Jesus. What happened between us had made me write those first few paragraphs, so I'd left it in the book, but I’d changed his hair color, and it was two pages, for heaven’s sake. Maybe three.

  I decided that it would be prudent to lock the doors just in case because a car was coming down the gravel road at a speed that could not be described as anything other than neck-break.

  “They’re locked,” I said.

  “We’re on our way,” Lee said, and I heard how they were moving.

  Oh, no. If I were Damien Lewis, pissed off about having one of my sexual encount
ers recounted in black and white, and about to yell at the woman who had written the words, I would not want a group of friends to see said yelling.

  “No,” I shouted. “Don’t. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  The door handle rattled, and I took a few steps backward.

  “Call me if you need us to –”

  “Okay, I will,” I said and closed the call.

  There was a window on the door and through the frosted glass, I saw him move back too, and then there was a loud crash. The door flew open, and there he was.

  Ten years older and still gorgeous. His hair was shorter, and there was some gray in it. There was some gray in his short beard too, and a few more lines on his face. His body was still lean and hard. Looking like that at the age of fifty-six should be illegal.

  He also looked absolutely furious, and I took a small step backward.

  “What the fuck?” he snarled.

  “What the fuck, what?” I asked back, trying to sound breezy in an attempt at squelching his ridiculous overreaction.

  It did not work.

  “Sit your ass down,” he snapped and waved an arm in the general direction of the couch.

  I sat my ass down.

  Then we stared at each other in silence for a long time. I didn’t know what to say, but I had to say something, and since breezy hadn't worked, I was about to try calmly when he suddenly sat down too.

  “Don’t even recognize you,” he said, glaring at me and making it sound like an accusation.

  “Okay,” I said, lacking anything more intelligent to say in return.

  He growled softly, apparently still on the wrong side of furious, but I could see something else behind his anger. Confusion perhaps? Or frustration?

  “It was three pages, Day,” I whispered. “Ten years ago. Please. Can we calm down and talk about this?”

  “No,” he said abruptly and walked out the door he’d destroyed minutes earlier.

  I stared after him and wondered if it perhaps had been just a little bit stupid to rent his guesthouse for two months. Then I remembered that he was leaving later that day and decided to stay inside until his car disappeared down the lane again.

  We wouldn’t have to see each other ever again.

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