As Elvira thought this, Shirleen kept talking.

“Vance had a chat with this Kellie girl. She knows the history and it ain’t no surprise she’s all in. So she’s up next. And I got the plan.”

Elvira studied her and she did this awhile.

Then she got impatient with doing it, so she said, “Well, lay it on me. Time’s wastin’, girl.”

Shirleen smiled.

Then she talked.

Elvira listened.

Then she smiled.

After that, she grabbed her cell.

She made two calls.

When she was done, they were all agreed.

Kellie Cliffe was up next.

Millie

Twenty-two years ago...

I walked by our futon, Logan flat out on it, eyes to the TV, and I smiled down at him when those eyes came to me.

But I didn’t get by the futon on my way to the kitchen to get a drink.

I got my hand caught by my man and pulled so I landed on him.

I stretched out even as I lifted up and looked down at him.

He was feeling good, I could tell by the mellow look in his eyes. I could also tell by the sweet smell in the air.

“How you doin’, Snook’ums?” I murmured, and he grinned.

“Excellent grass,” he murmured back. “And got my girl on me. So it’s all good.” He ran his hand over my ass and tilted his head on the arm of the couch. “Though, she’s got too many clothes on.”

Stoned sex with Logan.

That meant he’d take his time. Even hours.

The best.

Or the best when I got it but it was always the best when I got it, no matter how it came.

Unfortunately, even if it was the best, we didn’t have hours.

“You do remember that Dot and my folks are coming for dinner?” I asked.

He rolled so I was pressed to the back of couch and his face was in my neck. “I didn’t forget,” he said into my skin. “Come down by then.”

“I know you will, Low,” I told him, and I did know because he was careful like that. He never disrespected my parents. It was part of what won them over. I ran my hands up the muscle of his back over his tee and continued, “But we should probably not be having sex on the couch when my parents knock on the door.”

He lifted his head out of my neck and grinned at me.

Stoned, not stoned, alert, drowsy, preoccupied, focused, I didn’t care. Whenever Logan grinned at me, I loved it.

And this was no exception.

“Babe, it’s just past two,” he informed me.

“And I’m making a roast,” I informed him.

“It take four hours to make a roast?” he asked.

“No, but when you’re in a certain mood, it takes you four hours to get me off.”

He burst out laughing, his arms convulsing around me so he was squeezing me to his body.

I watched him do it, smiling and loving that too.

While he was still chuckling, he moved in, nipping my lower lip before gliding his lips against my jaw to my ear.

“How ’bout two hours?” he asked there. “Can my girl give me two hours to have fun before she worries about her roast?”

“I suppose I can give you two hours,” I said on a sigh, faking that it was a hardship when it absolutely wasn’t.

He lifted his head again and smiled at me.

His smile faded as he moved in to brush his lips against mine.

He kept them there and held my gaze as he said, “Smokin’ again and doin’ it while I watch you blow me.”

Oh God.

Total turn-on.

I loved his cock any way I could get it.

Including that way.

My legs moved with agitation.

His eyes started smoldering. “See you like that idea.”

“Yeah, baby,” I whispered.

“On the floor between my legs or on the couch...” humor mingled with the heat in his eyes when he finished, “between my legs?”

I wasn’t feeling in a funny mood.

I was feeling in the mood to give my man a blow job while he smoked a joint.

“What do you want?” I asked.

At my question, Logan got in my mood.

I knew this when he growled, “Floor.”

“Whatever you want, Snooks,” I whispered.

I gave him those words. Logan gave me a kiss.

When he ended it, I couldn’t wait to give back and do it going down on him.

So I didn’t mess around.

I sucked while he smoked until he set the joint aside and let his head loll on the back of the couch so he could concentrate on what I was doing.

His head didn’t loll when I stopped sucking, climbed on, and started riding. His attention was all on me.

We were done in time for me to get the roast in and we had a great time with my family as we always did after they’d realized Logan was it for me and believed in it, believed in him and let him in.

Then, after we ate, played board games and they left, Logan and I had another great time.

But this time when we did, he took his four hours.

And another one besides.

Falling asleep twined up in my man, I thought it was what it always was.

The best.

And I slept sound, knowing I had the best, got it early, and also understanding to the heart of me that I would have a lifetime of it, a lifetime of Logan.

A lifetime of the best.

CHAPTER NINE

“Far Behind”

Millie

MY PHONE ON my nightstand rang. I opened my eyes, rolled, looked at the clock to see it was six after eleven, then pushed up to look at the display on my phone.

Kellie.

This happened, not frequently, but it happened.

Usually, I ignored it. She held no grudges. She knew me. She knew it was a long shot but she never gave up on wanting me to have a life.

However, I’d spent the day making sure an anniversary party would go off without a hitch (it did), so I was even less inclined than normal (when I was never inclined) to pick up and do the Kellie thing.

But I was also committed to living my lie for the ones I loved.

Logan had walked out two days earlier and he had not come back.

For my part, since then, I had not faltered in continuing the charade.

Tomorrow night, Dot, Alan, and the kids were coming over for beef Stroganoff.

Further, Justine and Veronica were looking for a babysitter so we could plan a night where we could all put on our LBDs, go out, and drink cocktails. Claire was all in for that one, and without a kid or a steady who was truly a steady, she was ready when we were set to roll.

In other words, full steam ahead on the charade.

Now it was time to prove to Kellie I’d turned a new leaf and intended to go back to living my life.

So I snatched up the phone, took the call, and put it to my ear.

“ ’Lo, babe,” I greeted, still shaking away sleep.

“She answers!” Kellie hooted in a shriek in my ear, so I had to pull the phone away an inch. “Right on!” she kept shrieking.

I put my phone back to my ear and said, “Love you, you know it, but don’t love you phoning me and shouting in my ear in the middle of the night.”

“Three o’clock in the morning is the middle of the night, Mill. Eleven o’clock is not,” she informed me.

“Whatever,” I muttered. “Why are you calling?”

“ ’Cause there is this kickass band you have to see playing right now at The Roll. They just finished their first set, bitch, and they brought down the house. Get your ass outta bed and get it over here, pronto, or I’m never speakin’ to you again in my life.”

The last twelve, thirteen years, I’d quit answering Kellie’s late-night calls.

The years between being with Logan and not answering her calls, I did take her calls but would then engage in a long conversation about how I needed sleep, how I had work the next day, how I was no longer into live music or doing shots or whatever, this taking time and getting frustrating (hence my quitting answering).