Brothers in Blue: Max

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Brothers in Blue: Max Page 20

by St. James,Jeanne


  “I want to hear it from her lips.”

  “She refuses to talk to you. What’s that, darling?” A longer pause this time. “Oh, she wants me to tell you that she is announcing her engagement to Carlos.”

  Max hesitated. He must not have heard correctly. “She wouldn’t desert Greg.”

  “We’ll make sure he goes to a good home.”

  A good home? Like a shelter animal? “She wouldn’t want…”

  “Leave us—her—alone! She doesn’t want you anymore. You’re not good enough for her.”

  The connection was cut off.

  With an explosive curse, Max violently threw his new phone down on the floorboard. He smashed it with the heel of his boot into tiny jagged pieces.

  * * * *

  Everything around her was oversize. Oversize homes, oversize cars, and oversize tastes in general.

  All unnecessary. All unneeded, except to impress.

  She continued to walk for blocks through the winding streets of the gated community, trying to work out the anger she felt for her own mother.

  She had fallen for her mother’s games. Stupid little fool.

  She thought of Mary Ann and how selfless the woman was. Willing to help her anytime she asked. No strings. No games. Everything honest and up front.

  Why couldn’t she have had a mother like that?

  She thought about the difference between Carlos and Max.

  Carlos: Disloyal. Spoiled. Wishy-washy. Easily manipulated by Anne.

  Max: Solid. Powerful. Not an indecisive bone in his body. Okay, except when it came to them. But it had gotten better since they had called a “truce” last month.

  He stepped right in whenever she needed him. He was a natural when it came to dealing with Greg. And Greg loved him too.

  Greg loved him too.

  She stopped walking and closed her eyes. What the hell. She loved him. She loved Max! She didn’t want to live without him.

  She was going to go back to the house, pack her stuff, and go home.

  Home.

  To Manning Grove.

  To Greg.

  To Max.

  There was nothing here for her in Miami anymore.

  Nothing she wanted. Or needed.

  Amanda quickly returned to the house. Every determined step she took was a step closer to going home.

  As she quietly entered the house, she passed the sitting room. Her mother was there. Out of bed. In perfect makeup, dripping with jewelry, and wearing an elegant designer pantsuit, sipping what looked like…a cosmo!

  She stepped into the room, the anger bubbling back up.

  “Feeling better, Mother? Miraculous recovery?”

  “Darling, you know I did it all for you. I was desperate. I had to get you out of that…that place. I needed to remind you of what you’re missing. To remember what you had given up. I don’t want you to go back. Look at what all that you can have here. Money, friends, a home with us, anything you want…”

  Anything she wants.

  She wanted nothing from her mother. Nothing at all.

  Everything she wanted was up north.

  Amanda cut off her speech. “Is that my cell?”

  Anne looked down at the phone in her hand, almost as if she was unaware that she was still holding it. Her mouth silently opened and closed before answering. Then she lifted her chin like a defiant child. “It rang and I answered it.”

  “Who was it?” she asked warily. “Was it Max?” She snagged the phone from between her mother’s fingers and checked her call log. It was.

  “Is that his name?”

  “What did you say to him?”

  “I told him the truth: that you are home now. That he’s not good enough for you.”

  “Mother, you wouldn’t know the truth if it bit you in the ass.”

  Anne ignored her outburst. “I told him that you went back to Carlos.”

  Amanda sank down on the sofa. She dropped her head in her hands.

  “And what did he say?”

  Anne was silent for a moment. Amanda felt the sofa sink down as her mother sat primly beside her. She placed a hand over Amanda’s as if trying to soften the blow. “He said good riddance.”

  Good riddance. Amanda laughed hysterically. Good riddance! Those two words would never have come out of Officer Max Bryson’s mouth. He would have said, she can go to hell or no loss, or anything that ended with a curse, but never good riddance.

  Suddenly her mother sounded desperate. “Amanda, it’s true. He said he never wanted to see you again. I’m so sorry, Mandy. I realize you had a crush on him, but it’s over. He appreciates the fact that you need more in your life. That you deserve only the best.”

  “No…” Amanda faced her mother, heat crawling up her neck. “No. Greg needs me. I’m leaving.”

  She ran up to her room and tossed her clothes into her suitcase. She called a cab, then scrolled through her cell’s phonebook to find Max’s name. She pushed the Send button.

  His phone rang and rang. He wasn’t picking up. Max didn’t want to speak to her. She didn’t blame him.

  She listened to his voice on his recorded greeting. She wanted to leave a message, but she was afraid to.

  Her heart ached. All at once she felt so alone.

  “I’m coming home,” she whispered before hanging up.

  “There’s a fine line between love and hate,” Teddy had quoted to her once. Both were passionate emotions. She loved Max. She wasn’t going to deny it anymore.

  She needed him. She needed to get back to Pennsylvania.

  * * * *

  She had a harder time finding a flight out of Miami on a moment’s notice than she had in Philly a couple days earlier. She ended up napping restlessly in an uncomfortable plastic molded seat at the gate until she could catch a red-eye.

  Amanda couldn’t remember a more miserable flight in her life. Between the stomach-turning turbulence and being sandwiched between an enormous man with extremely bad halitosis and another who continually hit on her, she was at her wit’s end. She guessed that the wannabe suitor didn’t understand what the “evil eye” meant—that she wasn’t interested. Now her “evil eye” was twitching.

  As tempted as she was to purchase a cocktail from the flight attendant, she couldn’t make herself spend eight bucks on a measly four-ounce drink. And anyway, she would need ten times that amount to calm her down. Or knock her out.

  With her luck, she would have become belligerent and the air marshal on board would have had to take her down forcefully. She just seemed to get that type of response from law enforcement recently.

  The second they landed, she tried calling Max again. Still no answer.

  Either his phone was off or he was ignoring her.

  Because of his job, she knew he never turned his cell off, so it was apparent that he didn’t want to speak to her. Desperation and despair boiled up inside her.

  While she impatiently waited for her luggage to come off the plane, she called three more times.

  As Amanda dragged her bag through the airport, dodging numerous people, her bag twisted and a wheel popped off. She watched helplessly as the small black plastic, piece-of-shit wheel shot through the crowd, never to be seen again.

  Damn!

  She slammed the expandable handle back into the suitcase, grabbed the side handle, and lugged it down to the nearest seat. She collapsed into the chair, dropping her head into her hands.

  She would not cry. She would not cry.

  She would not cry.

  Some rude person sat next to her, jostling against her. This was the last thing she needed. She was sure there were plenty of other seats that this person could have flopped their fat ass into. Why next to her? Couldn’t they see she was having a crisis?

  She sat back, pushed her hair out of the way, and looked at the blurry figure sitting next to her.

  Damn the tears!

  She blinked, trying to clear her sight. She was going to give them a piece of her mind. W
hen she rubbed her hand across her eyes, the person grasped her wrist.

  “I didn’t know what to think.”

  Amanda opened her mouth.

  Max interrupted her. “No, let me speak. I didn’t know what to think. You left Greg with my parents; you just took off. It hurt me that you could just leave without letting me know what was going on. I thought you felt something for me.”

  Did he not get all her messages?

  “I do.” Her sight cleared, and her own anguish was reflected back at her in his face.

  He dropped his head and shook it slowly. “But you don’t show it.”

  “I do!”

  With frustration, he scrubbed his palm over his short hair. “I tried to call you, but your mother said…”

  Amanda groaned, wiping her running nose. “I know. I know what she told you. It wasn’t true.”

  “No?” He grabbed her left hand and raised it to study her ring finger. “Empty.”

  She squeezed his hand, never wanting to let it go. She wanted to make sure that it was real. He was really there, and that it wasn’t her imagination running away with her. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

  “I was heading to Miami to bring you home. To bring you back to me. I wasn’t letting you go without a fight.”

  “But how did you find me here? This airport is huge; there are a million people…”

  “By accident. A small wheel bounced off my shin. I should have known it was yours. My Amanda, always causing trouble.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I’m sure I’ll have a bruise.”

  Fate.

  It was fate.

  “Max…”

  He placed a finger over her lips. “Wait, I’m not done.” He brushed a lone shimmering tear off her cheek with his rough, warm thumb. “Amanda…I love you. I wanted to deny it…but I can’t. I love you, and I want you to come back home with me.”

  “Home…” The thought of a real home—creating a real home with Max—made a few more hot tears escape. She was not a crier!

  “I know you’re not happy in Manning Grove, it will never be the same as Miami. It’s a sacrifice you will have to make…”

  “It’s not—”

  “But I promise to make you happy. Hopefully, it will be enough.” He lifted her left hand again and kissed her ring finger. “I’m so glad you aren’t wearing Carlos’s diamond.” Without releasing her, he slid to his knees in front of her.

  With his free hand he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small black box. “It’s not going to be as big a ring as Carlos can buy you. But…” He opened the lid.

  A beautiful petite diamond sparkled from its velvet place setting.

  “It was my mother’s first engagement ring. If it’s not big enough, I’ll buy you a larger one later.”

  “Max,” she whispered. “It’s not the size that matters.” She blushed and laughed. “You know what I mean.”

  Max laughed too. Then he got serious. “Will you wear it?”

  What kind of proposal was that?

  But before she could ask, he smothered her lips with his own, tilting his head to possess her mouth fully. She pushed him back down. “We’re in public!” she complained in a whisper.

  “I don’t care. I want everyone to know you are mine. That I love you.” He turned his face up and hollered, “And, yes, I want you to marry me!”

  A hard tap on her shoulder made her turn her head to look at a small, elderly lady behind her.

  “Say yes, dear,” and with that she gave Amanda a smile and hobbled away with a cane.

  He was asking her to marry him at the Philadelphia International Airport among hundreds…no, thousands of strangers.

  “Please?” he begged.

  Amanda looked down at the man she loved, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, the man she needed desperately…the man who was squatted down on a filthy terminal floor between her thighs.

  “Holy shit,” she murmured.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said and slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.

  It was impossible, she thought, there was no way he knew her ring size.

  Fate flashed through her mind again.

  She was meant to be with this man. As much as they had fought it, fate won. “Let’s go home.”

  He gathered his backpack, her lopsided luggage, and her hand.

  As he led her through the throngs of people, she asked, “Why didn’t you answer your phone? I tried calling you a dozen times.”

  “I…lost it.”

  Lost it. Right. Just like Amanda had lost the Buick’s license plate. “Well, when you find it, you’ll hear a dozen messages from me. They might sound a little crazy. I was having a really bad day.” She smiled up at him and squeezed his hand. “But it’s all better now.”

  * * * *

  As they drove into the clearing at Bryson’s Tree Farm, they noticed Max’s parents, along with Greg and Chaos, relaxing on the large porch swing. The swaying stopped as the trio spotted the truck.

  Max parked his Chevy, and before Amanda could descend from the cab, Greg had her door open and was trying to haul her out. Chaos, with his front leg still in a cast, slowly hobbled over, giving a happy, high-pitched bark.

  She squeaked, “Hold on, buddy; let me undo the seat belt.”

  Max reached over the bench seat to release it for her.

  Amanda could rub her neck only for a split second before Greg was squeezing her tightly. “I’s missed you, ’Manda! I’s missed you!”

  Amanda hugged him in return, breathing in the fresh pine scent of him. She ran a hand through his messy hair. “I’ve missed you too. Did you have fun?”

  “Yes, lots of fun.” He released her and stepped back. “We made Christmas trees!”

  “You did?”

  Ron came up and gave her a great big bear hug. “Welcome home.”

  “It’s good to be home,” she replied, really meaning it with all her heart.

  Amanda saw Ron’s eyes flick to her ring finger, but before she could say anything, Ron just gave her a wink.

  Spotting the exchange, Max quickly faced his mother, clearing his throat. “Mom, I know what present you’ve always wanted the most for Christmas. And I know it’s way too early for Christmas, but—”

  He bent over and whispered in her ear, “She said yes.”

  Mary Ann’s face lit up, and silvery tears pooled in her eyes. With a happy cry, she rushed over to hug Amanda.

  “Oh my God! Oh my God! That’s the best Christmas present ever!” She stopped and looked anxiously from Max to Amanda’s flat stomach and back. “Well, unless there’s more you need to tell me?”

  Max groaned loudly.

  “Well, get busy, Son! You only have six months until Christmas.”

  “Mother!”

  Loose Id Titles by Jeanne St. James

  Double Dare

  Brothers in Blue: Max

  Jeanne St. James

  Jeanne St. James loves to write about an Alpha Male (or two) who knows what he wants, when he wants it, and how to get it. Nothing turns her on more than a man in uniform, whether it's a police officer, a Federal agent, or even a pro football player.

  She started writing when she was about 13 years old and found it great therapy. Over her high school years she wrote her first book, a raw, young adult novel about a young girl growing up in a gang. Alas, that manuscript is now forever lost (which may be a good thing, actually). During this time she read loads of books, most of them historical romances and contemporary category romances. She fell in love with the genre and has been writing ever since.

  Jeanne now concentrates on erotic romance. Why? Because it’s a blast. There’s nothing like a hot, spicy romance to get your juices flowing. But she still likes the HEA (happily ever after) ending. She believes a romance can involve more than just a man and a woman, so she writes ménage a trois, and, occasionally, stories including two men. Love and sex can be sizzling in any combinati
on!

  Her first published erotica piece was a fantasy short story in the July 2006 issue of Playgirl, which was titled “The Hot Ride.”

  Links to reach Jeanne St. James:

  Main website: http://www.jeannestjames.com/

  Blog: http://jeannestjames.blogspot.com/

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/jeannestjames

  FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/JeanneStJamesAuthor

 

 

 


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