Jason
He was back.
I wasn’t sure how I could tell, or the exact moment I knew it. Maybe it was when my balls tingled, when a cold sweat started to break out on my forehead, or, possibly, when I tried to get into my truck only to see that someone had deposited another fifty signs in the back.
But my body knew.
The universe was screwed.
And so was the town of New Haven.
“I’ve been watching you,” Max said from behind me.
I looked up to the sky and prayed for a lightning bolt.
Thunder.
A bee.
At this point, I would take anything.
Slowly, I turned. “Max.”
“Jason.” He grinned.
I hated how good-looking the guy was. I hated how many women fell all over themselves because they thought he was hilarious and hot. And I really despised how his rabid fans had been nothing but encouraged by his damn book and tweets.
The amount of dating advice that had been sent to me via the internet from his helpful fans was alarming.
I’d changed my email at least once every two months.
And my cell number.
Well, let’s just say each time Max discovered the new number, he felt the need to tweet it into the universe.
He was “doing me a favor,” you see.
By trying to help me, “find a woman.”
“Impregnate her.”
And, “live on a farm.”
His words.
His plans.
The man needed a keeper.
You want to see what money and boredom do to someone? Look no further than Max Emory.
“What do you want?” I crossed my arms and waited.
He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, a rarity from his usual business attire while running his empire from the city.
“World domination,” his answer.
“You any closer than last week?”
He just shrugged. “I’m optimistic.”
“How’s Reid.”
“Still famous.”
“And you?”
He grinned. “Still rich. Hey, I get voted mayor yet?”
“First off—” I jabbed my finger into his chest. “—stop putting signs in peoples’ yards before I arrest you. Second, the chief said you step foot into his town again, and he’s throwing you in prison—”
“I’m too pretty for prison.”
“I’ll rough you up a bit to make sure you don’t become someone’s bitch. How’s that sound?”
He nodded with a grin. “Somewhat exciting and violent. I may take you up on that. I’ve never been roughed-up by a cop before. Oh look, a gun. Can I hold it?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for patience. “Again, what do you want?”
He opened his mouth, but before he could get anything out, I interrupted. “Other than world domination and a house built out of Oreos.”
He frowned. “It’s Nutter Butters, dumbass, and I’m here for the reunion.”
“My reunion?”
“Duh.” He said it like I should know his reasons for attending a reunion he hadn’t even been invited to. “I thought you might need a wingman.”
I snorted out a laugh. “You’re the worst wingman in the world. If I need a wingman, I’ll grab Reid or Colt. The last time you tried to be my wingman, I ended up passed out in the dessert with a padded bra on and no recollection of the night before other than lipstick stains around my—”
“I’m hurt! You said that was the best night of your life!”
“I was drunk! And I think you drugged me. Either way, you gave out my phone number to at least fifteen strippers, all of who text me, to this day, to make sure I don’t need any more help getting it up.”
Max just grinned. “I told them you had limp dick from trying to shoot a spider that had invaded your house, but because your dick was blocking the way, you hit it instead. It’s a compliment. Not many people can brag about hitting their own dick while trying to point and shoot!”
I started sweating immediately. “Max, I’m only going to say this one more time. Go home.”
“Home is where the heart is.” He grinned. “And my heart feels so warm and comfy… here. Plus, Becca’s family lives here, and it’s so close to the Fourth of July… why not roast some dogs? Shoot the shit?”
“One day.”
“What?”
“One day, before you end up in prison.”
Max chuckled, then walked around the side of my truck. “Have a little faith. Let’s go.”
Why is he getting in my truck?
“Max,” I growled.
“What?” His innocent expression was starting to give me heartburn. “I let Becca take my car to spa day with her mom. Aren’t you happy I cleared my schedule for you?”
“Thrilled,” I said through clenched teeth. “But I’m on the clock, so I can’t entertain you. Go exist somewhere else, like Starbucks or something!”
“Can’t.” His face fell. “I’m banned.”
“There’s more than one Starbucks.”
“Oh, I meant I’m banned from all of them.” He just shrugged. “Can we get a cop car and turn on the siren?”
I got in the truck and slammed the door shut. “No.”
“Can we go on a chase?”
“No.”
My head throbbed.
“Embark on an exciting sting operation? Shoot some caps into some asses?” He looked absolutely pumped about the idea.
“We…” I said the word with disdain, “…won’t be doing anything. I’m dropping you off at the house and forcing you into slave labor; then I’m working for at least four more hours. Hopefully by then, your wife will be back.”
“About that…” Max examined his hands. “They’re gone for the weekend so…”
I started the engine and peeled out of my parking spot so fast I nearly took out Blanche who was crossing the street with one of her friends. She looked briefly at my truck and flipped me off then blew me a kiss.
Max frowned. “Silver fox. I dig it. Where you been hiding her?”
“Not. Another. Word.” I hissed out, already exhausted from how much he talked.
Silence was not in Max’s vocabulary. Once, he went to the library and found every dictionary in order to cross out the very word. He literally didn’t acknowledge it as part of the English language.
Hello, pounding headache.
Goodbye, peaceful life.
It wasn’t until I was back at my parents’ house, dropping Max off, that my chest started to tighten even more.
Because there she was.
In the backyard.
Our backyard.
Playing with a water gun and giggling.
With a familiar looking little girl.
My gut clenched.
She had the same reddish-blond curls.
Same smile.
I closed my eyes.
“You okay?” Max followed my line of site and was actually quiet for a good three seconds before saying, “You didn’t tell me you had a daughter.”
“OUT!” I roared.
For once in his miserable life, Max listened. He hopped out of the truck and made his way into the empty house, while I gripped the steering wheel behind two sweaty hands and watched the girl play.