A Reason to Kill (Reason #2) (14 page)

We threw back our drinks, slammed down the glass and then he pulled out more glasses for Lucy and the twins, filling them. As I picked up my glass for my second shot, a large hand stopped me from partaking in the much-needed libation. Before I could turn I heard Max whisper, “You use that tongue of yours in front of me again, be prepared to back it up.”

“Hey, Max, you enjoy the show at your mom’s?” Lucy asked.

I turned to him as he grumbled, “Christ,” and I giggled.

Apparently, Max wasn’t in a giggling mood. He scowled at me, hauled me from my stool, grabbed my arm, and headed towards the bathrooms.

“What’s going on?”

“You and your tongue owe me,” he answered as he opened the ladies’ room door and pushed me through. Then he shut it, locked it, and stalked me until my ass hit the sink. I put my hands up to fend him off, but he picked me up and put me on the sink, then stepped between my legs.

“Max—”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since you fell off the fuckin’ plane,” he bit out as he leaned in, pressing my back to the mirror.

“You hated me when I got off the plane.”

“Yeah, and I still do.”

“What? Then why are—”

“I hate the way my gut tightens when I’m around you. I hate the way I get pissed when another man looks at you. I hate that you wear ridiculous T-shirts that I want to rip from your body, and I sure as hell hate the way your ass looks with a bear’s face coverin’ it. However, what I hate most of all are your lips. The way you bite the bottom one when you’re thinkin’, or the way they’ll eventually look wrapped around my cock.”

“I’m not good with men,” blurted out.

“I’m gettin’ that, babe. What you gotta understand is that turns me on, not off.”

“You’re turned on?” I asked breathlessly.

“Yeah, and the fact you don’t get that is another thing to hate.”

“Okay,” I whispered melting into the wall at the sound of his growling voice.

“You gonna let me kiss you now?”

“I think I’d kinda hate you if you didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” he whispered as his head descended.

His hands at my side pulled me solid against his chest as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I leaned my head one way, and he tilted his the other. Then he reached up and grabbed my face as our lips met. However, before I could open my mouth and taste him, there was a knock on the bathroom door.

“Max, you in there?”

“Fuck,” Max bit out against my lips.

The man with the world’s worst timing pounded on the door again, so Max lifted me off the sink and then mumbled, “The town better be on fire.”

Max moved to the door and ripped it open, scowling at the redheaded man I’d seen him with when we’d first arrived. He was standing with his hand in the air, ready to knock for a third time. Ginger-man looked past Max, grinned at me, telling Max, “Mayor is looking for you. He’s on the phone.”

“Right, next time take a message,” Max snapped as he turned around, grabbed my hand, heading us back down the hall towards the bar.

“Right, right, sorry boss.”

The girls wiggled their eyebrows when we returned and Lucy coughed, “Hooker.”

Ignoring them for a view of Max’s ass in those Wranglers, I followed him with my eyes as he headed for the phone. As I watched him, Annie stepped into my line-of-sight as Max picked up the phone. She leaned up and then whispered in his ear, her eyes on me as she did. That’s when I remembered Max and Annie.

Jesus, I’m an idiot! I wasn’t anything special, just another one-night stand for the Crown Prince of Trails End.

Not about to become another “friends with benefits” my flight or fight response kicked in, or in this case, just a plain old flight to protect my heart kicked in and I turned to Lucy.

“Catch a ride with the twins, I gotta go,” I whispered and then grabbed my pack and hightailed it out of there before Max could return.

Max had caught my attention at first glance. Then he’d rescued me, flirted, teased, defended my honor, saved me, and finally yelled at me because he was concerned for my safety. All of that in three short days, which had, unfortunately, for me, made an impression on my heart. No way could I have a one-night stand with him and act as if it didn’t mean something to me.

So I ran.

Besides, he said he hated me, he could just add “running from him” to the list of the many attributes he hates.

Eight

Scooby Doo and the Gang meet the Incredible Hulk

“Ladies, time to rise and shine, there’s a town hall meeting in forty-five minutes and everyone will be there. We’ll be able to ask around without heading up the mountain,” Maxine cheerfully informed us, waking me from a deep and satisfying dream.

I’d spent my dreams in the arms of Thor and was now questioning my sanity at having skipped out on him the night before. However, in the light of day, and Maxine in my ear, I got over it and rolled away from her.

It’s been close to ten years since a mother woke me early, and my reaction was still the same. I threw my pillow over my head and tried to ignore her. Apparently, mothers around the world have the same handbook for such moves. Because, Maxine, in response to my roll, pulled the sheets from my body, yanked the pillow from my head, and ordered, “Up, now, or no breakfast for you.”

Lucy mumbled “Coming Mother,” and I rolled to my back and opened one eye, while she stared down at me, arms crossed as if she had a bone to pick.

“What?”

“Why’d you run from Max?”

“How did—”

“Lucy told me when she came in last night.”

“Oh, boy—”

“My boy is stubborn; he isn’t gonna back down just because you ran.”

“Well, he—”

“If you’re not interested fine, but you could do worse, that I can tell you.”

“Maxine, I—”

“Anyhow, that’s a subject for another time. We leave in thirty minutes. Up, get dressed, and then eat. After, we’ll head over and pick up Martha,” she ordered again then she left the room.

I looked at Lucy, who seemed to be finding the whole conversation hysterical, and asked her in all seriousness, “Did she just tell me I should sleep with her son?”

“Most definitely.”

“Now I know where he gets it from,” I yawned as I sat up and headed for my suitcase.

“Gets what?”

“His bluntness, it must be a family trait. He holds nothing back, tells you exactly what he’s thinking.”

“Girl, when they hold nothing back, you get a dirty talker in the sack and that’s beyond hot,” she advised as we both pulled out our clothes.

“Nope, my emotions have been all over the place regarding Max. When he’s around, I can’t help myself and when he’s not in my face, I want to run and hide. I made my decision last night and I’m sticking with it. I won’t be another notch on his bedpost.”

“Killjoy, I’d love to know what the King of the mountain’s like in bed.”

“Sorry, to disappoint, but I have bears and a life sentence to worry about if the chief doesn’t pull his head out of his ass.”

I pulled my Scooby Doo T-shirt on as we talked. I have a thing for the cartoons of my youth and a love of vintage tee’s. This one sported the whole Scooby gang standing in front of the Mystery Machine. When I was a kid, I wanted that van, and envisioned myself as Thelma, the smart one, who always solved the case. In real life, now that my head was on the line, I wished I had those crazy kids on my side.

“So which one are you, Thelma or Daphne?” Lucy asked when she saw my shirt.

“Right, now, I feel more like Scooby or Shaggy along for the ride.”

“I think you ladies are more Betty and Veronica,” Frank announced from the doorway.

“Knock would ya, we’re changing,” Lucy snapped.

“That would be counterproductive, how am I supposed to sneak a peek if I knock?”

“Perv,” I laughed, throwing a pillow at his head.

“Agreed, but Maxine wanted me to tell you to get your asses in gear. There are killers to find and muffins getting cold.”

“Yeah, yeah, be there in a minute,” I told him as I grabbed my shoes. “Come on Betty time to get this show on the road.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Lucy announced.

I smiled at her and then looked around the room uttering Thelma’s catch phrase. “My glasses! I can't find my glasses!”

“Jeepers,” she responded.

“Jinkies,” I replied.

“Jesus, I think I’m turned on,” Frank laughed.

“To the Mystery Machine,” I shouted and then grabbed my pack, heading for the door.

We made our way down the hall and through the great room to the entrance of the kitchen, and then halted. She whispered, “Retreat, retreat,” and we all took a step back in fear.

Standing with his back to the counter, arms crossed, glaring at his mother as she glared back was the Incredible Hulk, and he was about to lose his ever-loving mind. In his hand was the list of suspects Maxine and Martha had drawn up. Which, incidentally, they’d titled “List of suspect we need to investigate,” so we knew the jig was up.

Lucy backed up again. I backed up again. Hell, even Frank took a step back when he turned his angry eyes on us.

“Like, Help!” I whispered in Lucy’s ear.

That made her giggle and Max narrowed his eyes at me. He scanned my body, took in my shirt, then his jaw tightened. Ready to morph into the Hulk, he turned to his mother and told her, “Swear to God, if you run around this town half-cocked, looking for this killer, I’ll put you in a rest home.”

“I’d like to see you try, Maximilian. Now go to your meeting, you’ll be late.”

“You keep your nose out of this, you hear me?”

Maxine’s own jaw tightened in a mirror image of her sons and then she bit out “Fine, scouts honor.”

“You were never a scout . . . Jesus H . . . I don’t have time for this shit,” he yelled. “I got a business to run, and town to worry about, I don’t need to add crazy mother to that mix.”

“Then go, get to your meeting. I promise I won’t do anything stupid,” she conceded.

Max studied her face then bit out “Fuck,” ‘cause he knew she was lying. Hell, I knew she was lying and I’d only met her four days ago.

Folding the sheet of paper and putting it in his back pocket, he then turned and informed me, “You and me, we aren’t done, not by a long shot. I’ll see you later and then we’ll talk about your disappearin’ act.”

“I’ll be busy later,” I informed standing my ground.

“Yeah, you will, but not doin’ what you think you’ll be doin’.”

“I’ll be “doin’” exactly what I planned on “doin’” which doesn’t include “doin’” something with you.”

Max drew in a sharp breath through his nose, then looked back at his mother. “Three days in this house and she already sounds like you.” Then he turned on his heels and headed for the front door.

Maxine waited about two seconds after he left before she announced, “Change of plans . . . Mia, you take my van and keep Max occupied. We’ll use your Jeep since it’s less conspicuous and Max won’t be looking for it. Ok, get your muffins and coffee, get in the Jeep, and let’s hit the road.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait just a damn minute,” I bit out. “I’m not keeping Max occupied while you interview people.”

“You don’t have a choice. You either keep him occupied or go to jail.”

“They can’t arrest me if I didn’t do anything.”

“Tell that to the innocent men and women who occupy prisons all over the country and see what they say.”

Dammit, she had a point and that pissed me off.

I needed the police off my back so we could do our work, but most importantly, someone needed to pay for killing Curly and Donald.

I looked around the room, searching for any other solution and came up empty.

“Fine, I’ll do it, but under protest.”

Lucy moved to the counter, then to grab a muffin and a cup of coffee. As she snagged her breakfast, she replied “The way that man just looked at you, the only thing you’ll be protesting is leaving his bed.”

“I never said I’d sleep with him, I’m only running interference.”

“I don’t care what you have to do to keep him occupied, just do it,” Maxine ordered heading towards her key rack, tossing me a set of keys. “He’s at town hall for a meeting that starts in ten minutes. It’ll last as long as it needs to with all the bellyachin’ that’ll probably take place. Sit outside until it ends, then find Max and keep him out of our hair. You can do
that
by apologizing for runnin’ out on him. We may need you to keep him occupied for a couple of hours, maybe longer, so be convincin’ or he’ll know somethin’ is up.”

“God, this sucks. Every instinct I have told me to stay away from him. It’s like you’re throwing me into a lion’s den.”

“Nope, not a lion, more like a bear who bellows,” she laughed and then kept moving out of the kitchen. “You can drive Frank. Now let’s get a move on.

Lucy and Frank both patted me on the shoulder as they followed her out. I wondered as they left, if I turned myself in and confessed, would that be less of a headache. Right about then I was thinking, “You bet your sweet ass it would.”