“I can’t thank you enough for this.”
“Not a problem. Why don’t we just plan on meeting in a couple days? I’ll give you some homework.” She pushed two open cookbooks toward Amanda. “Have these two recipes ready for next time. We’ll see how you do.”
“Thanks, Ma.”
After Mary Ann left, Amanda sat back. Her heart sang with delight. It felt really satisfying to spend time with Max’s mother.
She had a feeling Max wasn’t going to like the idea.
But then who was going to tell him?
* * * *
The jingling of the bells followed her into the salon. Teddy looked up from the head he was washing and gave her a big smile.
“Hey, girlfriend.”
“Hey, yourself.”
He stuck out his lower lip in a mock pout. “Why so gloomy?”
“Bored to tears. Did I tell you that Mrs. Bryson is teaching me how to cook?”
Teddy raised a brow. “I think you left that one out.”
“Yeah, and I’m not doing too badly, either, but…you can only spend so much time in the kitchen.”
“So why not get a job?”
“Dealing with Greg is a job.”
“No, seriously. Something part-time, something to keep you busy while he’s at day care. I’d hire you, but I don’t have enough clients. Now if the barbershop down the street ever closed, I’d probably be swamped and would need your help washing heads.”
Amanda wrinkled her nose. “Yuck. I’m not washing people’s hair.” She looked at the older woman whose head he was scrubbing in the sink. “No offense.”
The woman huffed her displeasure.
“Not good enough for you?” Teddy asked.
Amanda ignored that. “I just need to have some fun.”
“That Bryson buck not keeping you busy enough?”
Amanda flushed as Teddy’s client lifted her head a little, just enough to make sure she didn’t miss any of the latest gossip.
Amanda turned away to look at herself in a nearby mirror. “I don’t know what you are talking about. Someone must have given you some bad information.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” He rinsed out the lady’s blue hair. “Did you enjoy Egypt?”
“Egypt? I didn’t go to Egypt.”
“Oh, I thought you took a trip down denial.”
Amanda turned away again to hide her laughter but realized that her image was reflected all over the shop. She stuck out her tongue at him, making him laugh.
“Go sit in that chair over there. I’ll be done with Mrs. Anderson’s hair in a flash. Then we can have a deep conversation. I don’t have another appointment for forty-five minutes.”
A deep conversation. All he would be doing is digging at her until she broke down and did a Catholic-like confession. “Oh Father, I have sinned…”
And he’d be lapping up every word of her “sins” like a kitten at a platter of cream. Not one drop would be wasted; he’d be licking his whiskers clean.
Amanda bit her lip at the imagery and wandered over to the waiting area.
No matter what, she was glad Teddy was here in Manning Grove. He kept her grounded, if that was possible. And neatly groomed. He always experimented on her with hair and makeup, giving her manicures and pedicures whenever he needed a guinea pig.
She sank into one of the upholstered chairs that looked like they dated back to the 1950s. Yesterday’s newspaper had been thrown on a pile of hairstyle magazines, which teetered precariously on a glass-and-chrome table. She snagged the paper and began to thumb through it. The want ads were pitiful.
A waitress needed for the diner. No.
A volunteer needed for the library. No.
A “lunch lady” needed for the elementary school. No way!
Amanda sighed. She didn’t really need to work. She also didn’t want to take away a job opportunity from someone else, since jobs were hard to come by around here. And learning to cook was filling up some of her time, but still…
She scanned the rest of the meager paper, and an ad caught her eye.
Crazy Pete’s Bar.
Karaoke from 8-11 Wednesday nights. Ladies Night Mondays. Happy Hour—drinks half-price on Tuesdays. Wings and a bucket of beer special all day on Friday, New Year’s Eve.
New Year’s Eve. That was today.
Boy, she could use a night out to get that “Bryson buck” off her mind.
As soon as Teddy was done with Mrs. Anderson, he escorted the woman out the door, then came over and dropped himself in the chair next to Amanda with a sigh.
“That woman’s impossible. I tell her that a blue rinse is soooo out-of-date. She doesn’t care. People are so behind the times here. But if it weren’t for the old ladies in this town, I wouldn’t have enough business. If there were more young people, then I’d—”
“Where’s this Crazy Pete’s? What other bars are around here?”
Teddy gave her a worried look. “Crazy Pete’s? It’s the only bar in town and, believe me, that one is all that’s needed. It’s over on Third Street.”
“Want to go celebrate the New Year in with me?”
Teddy gave her a skeptical look. “It isn’t Pete who’s crazy, it’s you! You expect an openly gay man to go to Crazy Pete’s? No, thank you.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Girlfriend, when I drive by, I don’t even make eye contact with anyone coming out of there.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Yes, but I’m still not going. I have a date with that cute Ryan Seacrest.”
Max’s previous multiple warnings of “stay out of trouble” bounced through her head.
“Well, I am. I need to check out the nightlife around here.”
“Honey, there’s more nightlife out in the woods.”
She jumped up. “Let’s do my hair and nails.”
Teddy clapped his hands in excitement. “Now you’re talking sense. A manicure coming right up. I’ll do you, if you do me!”
They both fell over each other in a fit of giggles.
* * * *
After leaving the salon, Amanda picked Greg up early from the day care. She needed to talk to Donna anyway.
When she stepped through the facility’s doors, it reminded her of the first time she met her brother. And how scared she had been; not that she was completely full of confidence now.
She spotted Donna behind the front desk; she looked up in surprise from shuffling some paperwork. Amanda went over.
“Amanda, it’s so good to see you. How have you been dealing with Greg? I had expected to get numerous calls from you. Actually I had expected you to be calling me every hour on the hour.” The woman laughed, giving Amanda a genuine smile.
Amanda returned the gesture. “I’m sure you did. But we’re doing fine. I’m learning things as I go.” And trying not to poison him with my cooking, she added silently.
“Boy, does Greg just love you. He talks about you all the time.”
“He does?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And does he say nice things?”
Donna laughed again. “Yes. I’m glad things are working out for him. I was afraid there for a while.” She took a deep breath. “So, you’re just here to pick up Greg? He’s in the back room having a snack.”
“Yes. But really, I had a favor to ask of you. I’m wondering if there is someone you could recommend to stay with Greg when I can’t be home.” She didn’t want to say babysitter since Greg was hardly a baby and she wasn’t sure if it was the right term to use.
“Like a sitter?”
Amanda sighed in relief. “Yes, exactly.”
“Well, there’s Joni. She’s just a few years younger than you, and she works here part-time. So she knows Greg and Greg knows her. I’d say she’d be perfect. She could probably use the extra money also.”
“Great. Is she here?”
“No, not today due to the holiday. Let me give you her phone number.” Donna grabbed
a nearby Rolodex and flipped through it. “Here it is.” She scribbled a number on a pad and ripped off the sheet to hand it to Amanda.
“Thank you. I’ll call her right now.” Amanda pulled her cell phone out of her bag.
“I’ll get Greg ready to go while you’re doing that.”
Within a couple minutes Amanda had Joni set up to stay with Greg that night. She was going out. She was going to have a good time and no one—not even someone who wore a blue uniform and whose initials were M.B.—was going to stop her.
Chapter Nine
If drool wasn’t running down the chin of every man in the bar, Max would be surprised.
He wiped his own.
Max lifted the beer bottle to his lips, the cool liquid slithering down his throat. Unfortunately, it did nothing to lower his body temperature.
“Damn!” His brother swore next to him as he knocked Max with his elbow. “Have you hit that yet?”
Marc was staring at exactly what he was staring at—Amanda Barber in a short, short—very short—skirt bent over a pool table attempting to make a nearly impossible shot. The solid green ball went into the corner pocket. She hooted, shifted, then bent over the table again.
Max swore he could hear the reply of silent “hoots” from all the men there. All the bar stools were turned to face the pool table. Actually, he thought he heard some sighs and groans from along the crowded bar as the little red leather skirt eased its way up her thighs. Higher, higher…
For cripes sakes! He hoped she was at least wearing panties.
Someone stepped behind her, placed a hand on her hip, and leaned over her. Seemingly to give her some good advice. Shit. Like she needed advice; she had been doing well enough on her own. Everybody in the bar could see that!
Max slammed the now empty beer bottle on the bar behind him and let out a curse. Marc glanced at him sideways. The knowing look he got from his brother made him even more annoyed.
He watched as Amanda took the advice with a smile on her lips. She must have made a funny comment because the “helpful” man laughed—a little too loudly—in response.
Amanda missed the shot.
So much for the help.
Max watched Amanda tactfully slip away from the guy’s big, assertive paws.
Marc hastily rose from his stool to step in front of Max, effectively blocking his view. “Brother, don’t do anything stupid. You have been drinking, and the last think you want is to lose your job.” Marc waited until his brother looked at him. Not without obvious impatience. “And you…we are the law in this town. We must lead by example, not get into bar fights. It’s not worth it.”
Max grunted in response as he snagged the fresh beer the bartender slid in front of him. He pushed around his brother and stepped over to the pool table. Amanda was leaning on her pool stick, watching her new acquaintance take a shot.
“Who’s your friend?”
Amanda lifted her shoulders slightly. She looked over at her opponent sideways. “What was your name?”
A hurt expression flashed over the guy’s features before he answered, “Jack.”
Amanda turned back to Max and repeated, “Jack.”
“Known him long?”
“Oh, about”—she glanced at the neon-trimmed Budweiser clock that hung above the bar—“an hour?”
Max turned his attention to Jack. “Where ya from, Jack?”
“Parsington.”
“Parsington?” No wonder he didn’t know the guy. He knew everyone in town; that was his job. “What are you doing here?”
Jack slowly and carefully laid the cue stick on the table and turned to give Max his full concentration. “Last thing I heard was this here was a free country.”
Max leaned close to Jack, getting in his face. “Listen, Jack—”
An abrupt clearing of a throat made him realize he was royally fucking up right now. He straightened and backed up a step. But he kept his eyes narrowed and focused on the man in front of him.
Jack put his palms up in front of his chest and backed up a step. “Hey, I haven’t done anything wrong. It is perfectly legal to have a drink with a pretty lady.”
Amanda stepped between them, glaring at Max. “You’re right, Jack. It isn’t illegal to have a drink with a woman—and thank you for the compliment.” She gave the other man a big smile. Then turned back to Max.
“Can I have a word with you?” When Max hesitated, she added firmly, “Like right now?” She tilted her head toward a quiet corner in the dimly lit bar.
When she walked away, Max had no doubt that he was to follow her. No matter what. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.
He watched her tight, supple ass sway in that short skirt as she walked with determination. And he was sure he wasn’t the only one appreciating the view. He didn’t even want to turn his head to confirm it. He was trying to control his temper enough already.
In a darkened corner of the room, she leaned against the old wood paneling and crossed her arms over her chest to face him. “So—”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you were going out tonight?”
Her eyebrows almost rose to her hairline before they dropped and her lips pressed flat.
He was on thin ice. But never before had he been so possessive of a woman he’d only slept with once. Once!
Why? What was it about this little slip of a woman that made him want to throw her over his shoulder, beat feet out of this bar, and take her home to throw her on his bed?
He wanted to fuck her on a real bed. Not in the backseat of a car. Not in his truck. But a bed where he could spread her out and do to her what needed to be done, so—
“Remember what you told me? We were supposed to be keeping this on the DL so your mommy didn’t find out?”
Did he say that? Damn. “Yeah, but…”
“Nothing serious, right?”
Max bounced his fist off his forehead and frowned. “Right.”
“So now you want me to check in with you before I go out?” Her brows shot up.
Yes. Yes, I need to know where you are at all times and with whom. Damn it. “No.”
She nodded her head. “Good, because it would be a damn shame to have someone want to control my life in all aspects, wouldn’t it?”
Max brushed his fingers over his short hair. She was playing him. She was throwing his words back at him, being a complete smart-ass. And enjoying every second.
But it didn’t matter that she might not have come here to the bar with him tonight; she was damn sure going to end up in his bed tonight and not with someone like Jack Parsington. Not if he had anything to say about it.
Without waiting for an answer, she pushed herself away from the wall and approached Marc at the bar. His brother was shaking his head and chuckling. She paused in front of Marc.
“You tell your brother he needs to be at my house in ten minutes or I’m not letting him in.”
Max sighed as she headed out of the bar, tossing back her hair. Marc yelled out to her, “Happy New Year!” with a bark of laughter.
To Max, he asked, “What are you waiting for, fool?”
* * * *
Amanda quietly opened the front door; she didn’t want to wake Greg. She placed the car keys on the table as she walked into the room. She dug out some cash before throwing her purse into the nearby brown recliner and kicking off her heels.
Greg’s sitter was nodding off in front of the television in the sunroom. With a gentle shake, Amanda woke Joni and saw the girl to the door, giving her the money and her thanks. She shut the door and leaned against it, letting out a ragged breath.
Okay, the man was hot, and there was definitely attraction—at least sexually—between them, but he was a bossy cop who couldn’t mind his own damn business. She didn’t think casual sex was his thing. He seemed way too possessive for that.
A slight tap on the door startled her. She peeked through the curtain covering the door’s window. He’d come.
She stilled. Maybe it wasn�
�t such a good idea that she’d invited him over. She could pretend she hadn’t heard it and just go to bed. Or she could…
“Amanda, I see you standing there,” she heard muffled through the door. Well, she could still ignore him and go to bed. Just because he was a cop didn’t mean he could enter her house whenever he wanted. He would need some sort of search warrant. Wouldn’t he?
Oh hell. He had entered this house plenty of times before without asking.
The door handle jiggled. “Amanda,” he called in a fierce whisper. “Come on, let me in.”
“Why should I?” She stepped over to the door, shifting the curtain aside to look out at him. Yes, he definitely was hot. Shit.
“Because you invited me.”
Oh yeah. There was that.
“It didn’t take you long.” She opened the door before she could stop herself, and he walked in, filling the room with the scent of his maleness.
“You said ten minutes, and I didn’t want you to change your mind.”
But at that moment her need to put him in his place was stronger than her desire. “I was having an innocent game of pool. As if it was any of your business. What gives you the right to interfere with my night out? I was trying to have some fun in this disgustingly dull town.”
Max scrubbed a hand over his prickly short hair, his irritation clearly showing on his face.
“That was hardly innocent. Your business was hanging out of that short skirt of yours.” He eyed the skirt, sending a wave of heat through her.
Amanda pursed her lips and planted a hand on her hip. “Maybe I was. Maybe I wanted to take Jack home and have hot, furious, sweaty sex with him. You know, like a casual wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am type of thing.”
Max paused, and Amanda watched his Adam’s apple bounce a couple times before he blurted, “Well, if you’re looking for volunteers…”
“Are you applying?”
“Maybe.” Max grabbed her arm to pull her close. “Damn, you’re really hot when you’re angry.”
Amanda pulled away from him and went over to the nearby secretary’s desk. She grabbed a sheet of notepaper and a pen. She shoved them into his chest.
Brothers in Blue: Max Page 9
