That one word was low. It was meaningful. I wasn’t sure I got the meaning. I just knew I liked it.

Travis gurgled through the last bite of carrots while Joker ordered, “Almost done. Pack up. Let’s hit the road. I’m fuckin’ starved.”

Ugh!

“You’re almost at a dollar, Joker,” I shared, still feeling hopeful and riding the happy wave of watching Joker feed Travis, but nevertheless annoyed.

“You do know I’m never gonna quit bein’ me,” he remarked, tipping the spoon into the empty jar and lifting Travis’s bib to wipe his mouth.

“You do know that Travis maybe said his first word last night. Since it was Mommy, that made me happy. His second word being the f-word would not do the same.”

His eyes came to mine. Then I made a quiet sound of surprise when his hand shot out and caught me behind the head, something he could do seated since I was bent over Travis’s diaper bag, which I’d dropped into my vacated seat.

After that, he pulled me to him so my mouth was on his.

He gave me a hard, short kiss.

“Bah buh bah!” Travis squealed.

Joker released the pressure on my neck just enough for me to move back an inch.

He looked into my eyes.

His, I couldn’t read. That didn’t mean he wasn’t telling me something. I just didn’t know what it was.

What I did know was that the guard was gone. I wasn’t shut out by steel.

I just didn’t know what to make of it now that I was in.

Then he let me go without giving more and I shifted out of his way as he straightened from his chair.

We packed up. We got Travis sorted. Joker yanked the diaper bag out of my hand and slung it on his shoulder even though he still had Travis in his arm. And off we went.

We did this in his spacious dual-cab truck. He’d picked me up at work. The “red wreck” (what Joker that night had christened my car) was to remain behind. I was off the next day. Joker told me he, or “one of the brothers” would be around in the morning to help me retrieve it.

So it was a proper date, him picking me up and everything.

Okay, he’d picked me up from work, brought my son with him, and we’d started our time at an attorney’s office talking about battling my ex, so it wasn’t a normal date, but it was still a proper one.

This made me happy.

Travis was snug in his seat behind us, babbling at nothing, and I was watching Denver slide by and smelling new car smell.

“So, you didn’t get pine,” I remarked.

“Say again?”

“Your car. It’s obviously just been cleaned and you got new car smell,” I said. “Not pine.”

“I got new car smell ’cause this isn’t a clean car. It’s a new car. Bought this truck today.”