“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.