Brothers in Blue: Max

by St. James,Jeanne

Max remembered when he was a boy, wishing for certain gifts. His parents usually got him exactly what he had wanted—within reason, of course. Now he knew where all those letters to Santa went—in his father’s pocket when Ron went Christmas shopping. His parents had always found a way to never disappoint their sons, even though they had never been rich.

  Love had always been more important in the Bryson home than money. It still was.

  His father lounged in his favorite recliner, trying to keep both eyes open but occasionally losing the fight. His mother was hovering over Amanda and Greg, her eyes alight with joy as she oohed and aahed over the boy’s endless gifts, exciting Greg all the more. Max could tell his mother enjoyed having a child once again in the house, even though the “child” was in his early twenties.

  When he had told his mother that he had invited both Amanda and Greg over for the holiday, Mary Ann had been ecstatic. She had run out immediately to purchase more presents. His mother made no bones about how nice it would be to have another female in the house. She mentioned time and time again how she was sick of being the lone women surrounded by a bunch of hardheaded males.

  Max chuckled at the thought. He was suddenly the focus of everyone’s attention.

  “Something funny, Brother?” Matt asked. Matt had become way too serious since going overseas. Max hoped he would snap out of it soon. His younger brother had been moody and quiet since his return home.

  “No, nothing.” Max was glad something had finally drawn both his brothers’ intense gazes from the attractive woman chatting with his mother.

  But it didn’t last long, as Amanda stood to gather the mountain of trash Greg had made from his gift-wrap massacre. All male eyes—including his pop’s—returned to appreciating the tight ass in the short skirt. And when she bent over—

  Max coughed sharply, getting his brothers’ attention once more, and scowled purposely at them. He never should have told her to wear that skirt. His mistake.

  His mother frowned at the loud noise. “Are you okay, Max? Are you getting sick?” She rushed over to place the back of her hand against his forehead.

  Was he okay? Well, if she really wanted to know…

  “I’m fine.”

  “You feel awfully warm.”

  “I don’t think Max is getting sick, Mom,” Marc chipped in, smirking. “There is another reason he’s a bit heated.”

  “Oh? What reason?”

  “Mother, the fire in here is just a little warm,” Max appeased her.

  Amanda straightened from throwing the wrapping paper into the fireplace. “Sorry, I thought you said to throw the paper in the fire.”

  Ron slammed his recliner into an upright position, an imposing sound that made all the brothers’ spines straighten out of habit. “You’re fine, girl. You just keeping doing what you’re doing and ignore these…boys.”

  Max jumped up before Amanda had the opportunity to bend down again. His strangled “I’ll do it” came out a little too loudly. He urged her back to the couch. “Have a seat and relax. You’re our guest.”

  Ignoring the male laughter in the room, he finished gathering the crumpled paper, tossing it into the blaze. He was briefly mesmerized by the fire’s colors as the paper burned.

  “This is the life,” Mary Ann cooed as she settled on the couch next to Amanda. She patted her on the knee. “What a nice holiday. My boys here all together and blessedly healthy. And now one of them actually brought home a girl.”

  Max groaned.

  Matt grimaced. “Mom, we’re not fifteen.”

  “I know. That’s what I’m saying. It’s about time you boys settle down and start thinking about having some chil—”

  “Mare, I think I smell something burning,” Ron interrupted quickly.

  Mary Ann popped up and rushed with a worried look into the kitchen.

  All three brothers simultaneously let out a relieved sigh. Amanda laughed at the obvious discomfort the men had of that subject.

  Ron smiled. “You know, boys, sometimes I feel your pain. Anyway, come over here, girl.” He patted the recliner’s arm.

  Amanda obediently rose from the couch, and when she neared, Ron wrapped an arm around her waist, giving her a slight squeeze. With his other hand he dug in between the cushion of the recliner’s seat. He pulled out a long black velvet box.

  “What do you think of this? Do you think she’ll like it?” He opened the box to reveal a simple but elegant gold necklace with three gems dangling from it in different colors.

  “It’s beautiful,” Amanda whispered.

  “Each gem represents the birth month of these pigheaded boys.”

  “Well, then she will love it.”

  Max neared and leaned over Amanda’s shoulder to peer into the box. “Very nice, Pop. When are you going to give it to her?”

  “Later, when all the ruckus has died down.” Ron cleared his throat roughly. “When we’re alone.”

  “Well, I think that’s very romantic of you,” Amanda answered.

  A blush crept over his father’s already ruddy cheeks. Max was stunned. That had to be the first time he’d ever seen his father blush. He met Amanda’s eyes over his father’s head.

  “I’ve got something for you.” He grabbed her wrist and drew her out of Ron’s hold, guiding her back to the comfortably worn couch.

  “Max, I didn’t get you anything.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I didn’t expect anything.”

  “But…”

  “Do you want some privacy, Max?” Matt cut in.

  He frowned at his meddling brothers. He wanted to wipe the ridiculous smirk from Marc’s face. “Look, it’s no big deal.” He went over to the tree to pull a rectangular gift from under the fragrant branches. Max handed her the brightly wrapped present.

  Greg squealed with delight upon seeing another unopened present and rushed over to sit beside his sister. “Lemme open…”

  “Greg,” Max said patiently. “This one is for your sister. Why don’t you let her open it?”

  Greg answered by sticking out his lower lip.

  Marc intervened. “Greg, come over by the fire and show me the new comic books you got.”

  Greg grinned and rushed over to Marc, quickly forgetting his sister.

  Max would have to remember to thank his brother later—even though it was the least Marc could do for being such a smart-ass. Max sank onto the couch next to Amanda. “Open it.”

  Amanda tentatively pulled back the paper to reveal a thick hardcover book. It was a reference book on dealing with intellectually delayed adults.

  She looked up and met Max’s eyes. He cursed himself. He was stupid for getting her that gift. He should have gotten her something nicer. More personal. More…

  “Real romantic, Max. Way to go,” Matt chimed in acerbically.

  “No, it’s nice. Thank you.” Amanda leaned over, bracing a hand on his thigh, and kissed him on the cheek. Her hand lingered just a second longer than was necessary.

  Max felt the tightening in his groin and heat where her hand had been. He wanted more than a peck on the cheek or a brush of her hand on his thigh. If his family hadn’t been present, he would have crushed her in an embrace to show her what he really wanted to give her. Damn. That wasn’t a real “holiday” spirited notion.

  Mary Ann’s voice broke into his lewd thoughts. “Dinner’s ready!”

  Marc led Greg away, and Matt came over, offering his arm to escort Amanda into the dining room. Max continued to sit; he was unable to move until he could gain control of his mind and his body.

  Amanda made him horny as hell.

  Ron came over and slapped him on the back. “That’s all right, Son. You’ve got all the time in the world to impress that girl. Today just wasn’t the time.”

  His father laughed as he strode away.

  * * * *

  It was late. Her stomach was painfully full. Greg was dozing off by the fire in his new NASCAR sweatshirt and baseball cap. Amanda wondered if she would ever b
e able to get him out of those clothes again.

  The men had carried the ridiculous number of gifts that Greg had received to the car, then suspiciously all disappeared.

  Max stomped the newly fallen snow off his feet as he came back inside. She met him at the front door.

  “I brushed off the car and started it so it would warm up.”

  “Thanks,” she murmured as he helped her into her faux-fur jacket.

  “I can follow you home.”

  “No, that’s okay. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

  “It’s not a problem. I’m going home anyway.”

  “Oh, you don’t live here?”

  Max chuckled and tilted her face up to his. “I haven’t lived with my parents since I was eighteen. I have a house closer to town.” He brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. “I’m glad you came.”

  “I am too.”

  He pointed to something over her head. She raised her eyes to the infamous mistletoe hanging above her.

  She raised her eyebrows. He was going to kiss her? Here? In his parents’ house?

  Her eyelids dropped as his head lowered.

  Oh yes. He was going to kiss her. No doubt about it.

  Her heart pounded.

  She shouldn’t let him; her mind was saying it wasn’t a good idea. Her body was saying otherwise.

  His warm breath caressed her lips and mingled with hers. She waited. And waited. Her eyelids fluttered back open; the intensity of his ice-blue eyes bored into her. She tried to speak, but he swiftly crushed her lips with his. Angling his head, he ground his tongue with hers. She reached up to grip his shirt.

  Oh. Yes.

  He drove his fingers into her long auburn waves to pull her even closer. Then as quickly as it began, he pulled away, laying his forehead against hers, both of them panting softly.

  That was even better than she’d dreamed.

  Amanda unwound her fingers from the shirt fabric, brushing her hand down his broad chest, to his narrow waist and lower… Max grabbed her wrist tightly.

  “I’m having a hard time controlling myself as it is.”

  She nodded slightly, touched her lips with shaky fingers, then turned away. She left him there and went to wake Greg, bundling him up in his heavy winter coat. Max continued to stand stiffly by the front door, silently watching her as they left. Legs trembling, she stepped out into the snow.

  She gripped Greg’s hand to help guide him over the slippery walkway to the car. The moonlight’s reflection off the snow lit their way.

  A fierce shiver ran up her spine.

  Amanda wanted to think it was from the cold. But she knew better.

  Chapter Six

  As Amanda drove down the lane, she realized she should have taken Max up on his offer of following her home. It had snowed a little more than she thought. Up until now she had driven in some dustings but not real snow.

  When she got out to the main road, she panicked even further. The roads were not plowed. Or even salted.

  She hoped the Buick could make it home. There was no way that she was going to turn around like a wuss and go back to the Bryson house. She would just take her time.

  She glanced quickly at Greg before turning her gaze back to the road to concentrate. At least he had fallen back to sleep and wouldn’t be harassing her about her driving.

  The ride to the farm earlier in the day had only taken about twenty-five minutes. And here she was at least forty-five minutes later and still wasn’t even close to being home.

  Every time the rear end of the car slid she bit back a squeal. She wanted to avoid waking Greg.

  Out of nowhere, headlights came up quickly behind her. Close enough to the point of tailgating. The lights were high, like from a truck, and their glare into the rearview mirror hurt her eyes. She wanted to wave the person around her, but she was afraid to take a hand off the wheel.

  Then the honking began, making her jump. There was no traffic coming the other way; why didn’t they go around?

  The truck pulled around her and up next to her. She took a fleeting glance over.

  Max.

  She didn’t know if she should be relieved or annoyed. He shouldn’t have scared her like that.

  He rolled down his passenger window, and she could barely hear him yelling at her to stop or pull over.

  She did. She slammed on the brakes, and the Buick slid ten feet before coming to a stop crookedly in the middle of the road.

  Max parked behind her and walked up to the car.

  He stood there for a moment, and then when she didn’t move, he tapped on the window with his knuckle.

  “Roll down your window.”

  Amanda released the painful grip on the steering wheel to push the power window button.

  He leaned into the window. “What are you doing?”

  She gave him a look. “It’s not obvious? I’m going home.”

  “You were driving five miles an hour.”

  “Oh.”

  “Amanda, there is only an inch of snow out here.”

  “Really?”

  She heard his chuckle. She didn’t think it was funny. Only an inch? It had seemed like a foot. Shit.

  “I guess you’ve never driven in snow before.”

  “Not until coming up here.”

  “Hell, winter hasn’t even started yet.”

  Great.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll park my truck and drive the Buick home for you.” He nodded toward Greg. “I don’t want to wake him up just to transfer him into my truck.”

  He did just that. Without even waiting for an answer from her, he went back to his vehicle, parked it off the roadway in a field, came back, and made her sit in the back since Greg was asleep in the passenger seat.

  He drove the car back to her house without a word, but she could see the grin on his face and the looks that he kept giving her in the rearview mirror. He must think it was funny that she couldn’t drive in the snow. She was just a helpless female.

  With a straight face, she gave him the finger and slid over to the corner of the backseat so she was out of his view. A low chuckle came from the driver’s seat.

  She looked out the window and realized that they were already pulling into her driveway. He pushed the garage door opener and slipped the car inside before turning off the ignition and shutting the garage door again.

  He got out and went around to the passenger side and quietly woke up Greg. Max helped Greg out of the car. Amanda remained in the backseat watching this man take her brother into the house. He clearly had a soft spot for Greg. She had to admit that there was more to him than met her eye. All business on the outside, but on the inside? He was someone who cared enough to include Greg and her for Christmas with his family, and afterward go out of his way to make sure they got home safely. He didn’t have to do either. But he did.

  However, she didn’t want to rely on anyone other than herself. She needed to be more independent. How was she going to achieve that if he kept stepping in to save her ass?

  She had been dependent for most of her life; now she needed to be the complete opposite.

  But, honestly, as much as it irked her that he had to drive them home, she was relieved he had. Not that she was going to tell him that. She didn’t want him to think he could step in whenever he damn well pleased.

  Not even five minutes later, Max came back into the garage and stared at her through the car window. “Are you going to sit in there all night?”

  She gave him a slight shoulder shrug.

  He opened the back door and slid in next to her.

  “Amanda—”

  “You think I’m helpless, don’t you?”

  He gave her a surprised look. “Why would you think that?”

  “I could have driven home myself.”

  “Okay,” he said cautiously. “And your point is?”

  “My point is that I should have gotten us home. I shouldn’t have needed your help. I need to learn to do things on my own.
Like driving in a little bit of snow.”

  “Really? Because at the rate you were going, you would still be out there miles away.” He slid his fingers along her jawline, pushing a tendril of hair behind her ear. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Yes, you should definitely be able to drive in snow, but, hell, tonight wasn’t a good night for practice. Especially with Greg in the car. I could help you learn, if you want.”

  Amanda flattened her lips and looked out of the opposite window, away from him. He was throwing himself in the mix again.

  Though, she was flattered he wanted to help, but…she wanted to stand on her own two feet, not have a man propping her up. Max grabbed her chin and turned her toward him. “Amanda. I only wanted to help. It’s my job.” I’m here to protect and serve.

  She pulled her chin out of his fingers and met his eyes. “I’m not your job,” she whispered.

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at her. She couldn’t read him. She wanted to know what he was thinking.

  He reached out a hand, then captured her wrist quickly. Pulling it to his mouth, he brushed his lips lightly against her pulse.

  “I know,” he said finally.

  She closed her eyes against the heat she saw in his.

  “Amanda…look at me.”

  She opened her eyes and murmured, “You have no way to get home.”

  “I don’t care.”

  He brushed his lips against her fingers.

  “I…I forgot to thank you for including us today—” He stopped her words with a thumb against her lips. His thumb continued across her lower lip, along her jawline, and then his fingers found their way into her hair. “And…” She sighed. “And for driving us home.”

  “Was my pleasure.”

  He made a fist, grasping and pulling, tugging her head back, exposing her neck. He leaned in, nuzzling her throat. His warm tongue stroked her skin.

  She gasped as wetness pooled between her legs. Her breasts ached for his touch. She needed him deep inside her.

  He nibbled along the neck of her sweater, around the hollows of her collarbone.

  He sat up suddenly, pulling her roughly into his lap. Her miniskirt bunched at her hips as she straddled him in the backseat of the boring Buick.

  Only it wasn’t so boring at the moment.