“What happened?”
He tilted a head toward the busybody and lowered his voice. “Mrs. Myers called and said she saw Greg running away from home.”
“What?”
Greg piped in at that moment. “I wasn’t runnin’ away! I wasn’t, ’Manda.”
“We found him down on Fifth Street.”
“Fifth Street! Holy shit.” Amanda grimaced, realizing she’d just cursed in front of a police officer on duty. She turned to Greg and took his shoulders, giving him a little shake. “What were you doing on Fifth Street?”
“Looking for Mama.”
His sullen answer tore at her heart. She didn’t know what to say, how to respond.
“Ma’am…”
“Amanda,” she corrected him. She was not ready for that old-lady title yet. Save it for Mrs. Busybody.
“Amanda…” With a hand on her back, he steered her away from Greg so they could talk privately. He kept his voice low as he continued, “His mother’s church is on Fifth.”
Amanda shook her head. She didn’t understand.
He cleared his throat. “That’s where her service was.”
Her service… Ah! What an idiot she was. The people in this town must think her heartless. No wonder Mrs. Busybody didn’t like her. Amanda had never visited. She never even came back for her father’s funeral. Or her stepmother’s.
No wonder Officer Max Bryson thought her immature and selfish. She looked up at his brother; nothing but pity showed in his blue eyes. Right now she felt so low that she’d rather have had Max’s disapproval staring down at her. Punishing her.
She deserved it.
As if in slow motion, she turned away and sank down on the concrete front stoop. She looked at her brother, who was helpless in this world. She was all he had.
Greg remained standing next to the black-and-white car with an abnormal calmness, not his excitable self. Chaos sat at his feet obediently—also unnaturally still.
She studied the dog. Chaos didn’t know his master was different. Chaos didn’t care.
She was so in over her head. But she was determined not to drown.
Amanda glanced over at Greg, who was coloring with crayons…only he didn’t have a coloring book. He was immersed in decorating the kitchen table. Amanda closed her eyes and sighed.
She had insisted Greg stay home from day care and had spent half the morning trying to explain why his mother wasn’t still waiting for him at the Fifth Street church. He had heard everything she had to say, but hadn’t really listened.
And Amanda was tired of trying to explain. Both ended extremely agitated for most of the day. Even Chaos had gone out his doggy door to escape the tension.
Maybe she just needed to get Greg away from this place.
“Bud, how about moving to the big city?”
Without even looking up, he mumbled, “No.”
Amanda moved around the table to stand next to his seat. She stroked her fingers over his hair. “Maybe you could meet new friends.”
“No.”
“Why? Greg, don’t you want lots of friends and lots of things to do?”
“Don’t wanna leave.”
“Why?”
“Mama may come back.”
“Greg…” Amanda reached out and grabbed Greg’s hands with hers, ceasing their senseless movement. “Greg, your mama isn’t coming back.”
“Yes, she might.”
“Did Daddy?”
Greg’s hands tensed against hers, his fingers clench tight. “No…no…Daddy’s gone for good. Mama says so.”
“Yes, and your mama is with our daddy.”
“No. She’s coming back.”
“No, Greg…”
“Yes, she said she’d never leave me.”
“I’m sure she did.”
“She said so!” He jerked away and stared down at the broken crayons in his hands. “Oh, my crayons are broke. Mama’s gonna be mad!”
Amanda sank into a chair at the table. “No, she won’t.”
“’Manda, stop it! Stop it! Mama said…”
“Greg, your mama said a lot of things, but…”
Greg suddenly pushed away from the table, causing his chair to flip backward with a crash. He towered over Amanda, his face flushed, a piece of spittle caught in the corner of his mouth. “SHUT UP!”
Amanda had to cover her ears to protect them from his high-pitched shriek. His fists were clenched and his eyes wild. For the first time, Amanda felt a spark of fear. She might have pushed him too far.
Max Bryson stepped into the kitchen. A fleeting thought of how he had gotten into the house crossed her mind. He approached Greg, put his hands on the younger man’s shoulders, and gave them a slight squeeze. “Hey, pal, what’s going on?”
The tension notably lessened in Greg’s body. For that she was grateful. Why Max was in her house was another thing. She realized then that she had been holding her breath; she released it in a rush.
“Max! ’Manda wants to take me away!”
Heat rose from her neck into her cheeks when Max gave her a quick glance. He frowned. “She does?”
“Yeah, she wants me to go…to the big city an’…an’…meet new people an’ get new things.”
“She does? And you don’t want to go? Well, we will have to convince her that you want to stay.”
Amanda hissed, “Like it’s any of your business.” She got up and grabbed the furniture polish from under the sink. She began to scrub at the crayon marks on the kitchen table with a rag.
The more she thought about Max putting his nose in their business, the harder she scrubbed. She tuned out their conversation and concentrated on removing the colored wax from the wood’s finish. When she was done, she looked up and realized it was quiet.
Greg had left the room, and Max was leaning back against the center island, arms and feet crossed. He was watching her intently.
“Do you have nothing better to do? Like go fight crime? Or write a little old lady a citation for jaywalking? Did you lose your parking-lot stopwatch?”
The corner of his lip curled up. “You should be fined for having such a cute ass. Just watching you wiggling it back and forth like that as you scrubbed gave me a—”
He stopped abruptly, as if he had just realized he had said his thoughts out loud. The surprise on his face was quickly schooled to a blank expression.
As she finished his thought, Amanda’s gaze flew downward.
She turned to gather Greg’s broken crayons and threw them into an old coffee can, closing the lid with a snap. She could finally look up at Max without blushing. “Again…why are you here? And most importantly, how did you get in?”
“Well, I got in through your front door. It wasn’t locked.”
“Do you normally just barge into people’s homes?”
“No, only in emergencies. I heard the yelling and thought there might be one.”
Amanda snorted. She stilled, her eyes narrowed. “Did that busybody call you?”
“Who?”
“Never mind. What do you want?”
“I heard what happened this morning and wanted to check up on you and Greg.”
Ah.
“My brother said you were pretty distressed.”
“Of course I was. Do you think I don’t care about my brother?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Look, this is a small town. Everybody knows everything. Or at least thinks they know everything. That’s just the way it is. Maybe down in—Miami, is it?—it’s no big deal that a daughter doesn’t come home for a funeral, but up here… Well, people talk.”
“That’s because there’s nothing to do except gossip and talk about things people don’t know anything about.”
“Maybe so.”
“No maybes about it. Oh, and give out unfair citations. Can’t forget that one!”
“You’re lucky I didn’t give you one the other day when your registration pl
ate got lost.”
Out of nowhere it hit Amanda that this was Max Bryson. Not Officer Max Bryson. He wasn’t in uniform. She was suddenly taken aback on how handsome he looked. Without the uniform he looked less…barbaric? Militant. Less patronizing.
His jeans fit him quite nicely, while his worn flannel shirt with the rolled-up sleeves looked soft against the deep tan of his forearms. A deep blue T-shirt peeked out from the V of the tucked in flannel. She couldn’t imagine him with his hair any longer than it was. The severe haircut fit him. Her pulse quickened.
He was a true man. Masculine. Mature.
She wondered if he would look as naked in real life as he did in her dream. She licked her lips.
“Don’t.” His voice was low and gruff, clearly a warning.
Amanda closed her eyes and tried to speak.
She cleared her throat and tried again. “I appreciate your concern, but I think you’d better leave.” Her eyes opened, and she met his, the fiery blue ice making her breath catch. “I see you’re off duty, and I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.”
He straightened up, uncrossing his legs and arms. “You’re right.” He stepped close to her, hesitated just for a second. Just long enough for Amanda to feel the searing heat of his body. Goose bumps broke out over her skin. He brushed by with some parting words. “Stay out of trouble.”
As she watched him take long strides out of the kitchen, she caught herself on the counter before her knees collapsed.
AFTER SAYING GOOD-BYE to Greg on his way out, Max stepped out of the house and took a deep breath of the cool fall air. He needed to clear his head. Marc had tried to warn him not to go over to check up on her, but Max hadn’t agreed. He thought it was the perfect opportunity to see Amanda on a nonpolice matter. Hopefully on more pleasant terms.
Unfortunately, it hadn’t turned out that way. As he had arrived, he had heard Greg’s out-of-control yelling, and he had rushed in to see Amanda in way over her head. As he had previously feared. He sighed.
What he had hoped to be a nice little neighborly visit turned wrong. He frowned and walked over to his truck. Hopping in, he sat in the cab, staring at the little house in front of him.
Max had noticed when Amanda’s expressive gaze had changed. One second she was being a major bitch, the next she was checking him out with those sizzling eyes. Phew. Again he was surprised at the quick response from his body. He was losing control.
He strapped the seat belt across his torso.
He had to meet up with her again. Next time it would be better without conflict brewing. Maybe he should ask her out for coffee.
Hell, he’d make it a beer instead. She needed to loosen up.
Max knocked on Amanda’s door. No answer. He knocked again. He tried the knob. It was locked, unlike last time he was here.
He heard a faint, “Who is it?”
“Ma’am? It’s Officer Bryson, ma’am. Please open the door.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“It’s police business, ma’am.”
The door swung open, giving him an unobstructed view of Amanda in the sexiest teddy he’d ever seen.
“Will you stop calling me ‘ma’am’? I’m not that old. And hurry up and come in; it’s chilly out there.”
It sure was. Her nipples perked underneath the silky fabric—the black lacy fabric that barely covered her full breasts. He swore he could see the rosy color of her nipples.
She closed the door behind him and turned to face him.
“Is this going to be quick, Officer?”
“Oh, I can make it quick.” Then he grimaced when he realized what he’d said. Damn it!
“What was so important that you had to wake me out of bed?”
“Ma’am… Amanda, you never paid your parking ticket. I have a warrant for your arrest.”
“What? A warrant? Let me see it.”
Max checked his pockets and couldn’t find the warrant. He cleared his throat. “Well, I can’t find it right this second. But it’s a bench warrant.”
“Well, can I pay you now?” She took a step closer.
Why was she wearing that sexy outfit? This was supposed to be police business. He wasn’t able to concentrate on the matter at hand. This wasn’t like him.
“Yes, I’ll take payment.”
“Cash, check, or…?”
“Or?”
She moved another step forward and was now inches from him. Her nipples were clearly visible through that lace.
“Or…how about this?” She closed the few inches between them, stood on her tiptoes, and brushed his lips with hers.
She leaned back just enough for him to say, “That’s not sufficient.”
She kissed him again, this time grabbing his waist for balance, holding her lips against his a little longer. When she pulled back, he just shook his head.
“No? Well, how about this?” She smashed her lips to his and plundered his mouth with her tongue, exploring every corner until he groaned.
Her hand reached down and slipped into the waistband of his jeans, just enough to grab the hem of his T-shirt, then rip it over his head, tossing it to the floor. She leaned in and rubbed her breasts against his chest. The feel of the silky fabric and her hard nipples almost made him pick her up and throw her onto the couch.
Instead, she grabbed the waistband of his jeans again and tugged him over to the couch.
Damn, she wanted all the control.
“Take your pants off.”
After kicking off his boots, he did just that. His cock was hard and ready, and his balls were tight. The blood was surging through his body, his heart pumping rapidly.
Amanda gave him a shove, and he landed on the couch, giving him a complete view of her in that black teddy. Besides the lace that barely concealed her breasts, solid black fabric draped down to her hips. Just long enough that he couldn’t tell if she had panties on.
His gaze roamed her legs from the tops of her thighs down to her toes, appreciating every curve that she had. Her inner thigh, her knees, her calves.
“C’mere,” he said, his voice so gravelly that he didn’t sound like himself. He reached out a hand, and she took it. He drew her into him, and she was suddenly straddling him. His cock was caught between her bare pussy—well, there was the answer—and his lap. He was right there. Right there! It wouldn’t take much but a minor shift.
She leaned into him and captured his lips again, moaning as their tongues tangled and explored. Her fingers tweaked his nipples, making him jerk a little but not enough to lose the touch of their kiss.
He broke free so he could push down the spaghetti straps of her teddy, releasing her breasts. They were perfect and beautiful. He buried his face between them, kissing her flushed skin. He sucked one nipple while he teased the other with his fingers, twisting just enough to make her cry out, sink harder in his lap, and grind against him.
His cock twitched against her heat, feeling her wetness. He brushed his teeth over the other nipple, reaching his thumb down in between them to find her clit. She bucked against him like a wild horse. And with a little lift and tilt of her hips, she captured his cock. A long, low moan escaped her as she lowered herself slowly, ever so slowly, until she had him completely enveloped inside her. Her inner muscles squeezed him as she rode him, easy at first, then she picked up the pace. His head fell against the couch as she controlled the movement. Up, down, circling. Almost letting him go, then quickly swallowing him again.
Her hips shifted and tilted as she reached back to stroke his balls, then squeeze them. He almost lost it right there. He tried to slow his breathing, but she was wreaking havoc on his control.
He wanted this to last. But between her little whimpers and her clenching pussy, he was going to lose it.
And when she cried out, “I’m coming!” he lost it.
His cock throbbed as he spilled into her, his release mixing with hers.
He rolled over and woke up. He dragged a hand over his
stomach. Sticky! It was only a dream. A freaking teenage-like wet dream. Fuuuuuuuuck.
That damn woman has gotten under his skin.
Chapter Four
She should have come up with the idea sooner. Using her reflection in the glass door, Amanda made sure her hair was in place and her clothes in proper order before pushing the door open with one hand. The other was occupied with balancing the plate of Mrs. Busybody’s peanut butter cookies.
She had wanted to do something nice for Officer Marc Bryson. And when she found the plate of cookies in the back of the cabinet where she had hidden them, the thought came to mind. He would never know that she didn’t make them herself. Or that the dog licked them…
Her high-heeled boots tapped along the tiled floor as she entered the police station. An American flag occupied one corner with the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania flag parked right next to it. On the walls were framed pictures of men in uniform. She couldn’t tell if they were current or former officers, but clearly not one was a woman. Figures. A small town such as this probably didn’t recognize equal rights. It was like the Dark Ages.
She thought she spotted one of the Brysons’ pictures up there, but she wasn’t sure and before she could step closer to read the brass plate underneath it, she was interrupted.
“Can I help you?”
She stepped up to the counter and smiled at the redheaded officer. A dusting of freckles crossed his nose and cheeks. He wasn’t much older than her. She read his name tag: Dunn.
“Hello, I’m just here to drop off some cookies for Officer Bryson.”
“Oh, hold on. I think he’s in the patrol room.” Officer Dunn turned and bellowed toward the back. “Max, someone is here to see you.”
Max! Amanda panicked. “No! No. That’s not… I’m sorry, I meant Marc Bryson.”
“Oh.” He gave her a shrug like it was no big deal.
Too late.
Max came from out of a side room with his head down, busy snapping on the leather keepers that secured his duty belt to his narrow trouser belt. Amanda looked at the cluttered accessory and wondered what all the things hanging off it were for. The gun, of course, she recognized.
Brothers in Blue: The Complete Trilogy: Brothers in Blue Boxed Set - Books 1-3 Page 4
