Chapter 14

Hours later, Max couldn’t remember ever experiencing a comfort so great as holding Sarah in his arms while she slept. There was only one problem. She wouldn’t be sleeping in them the next day. Or the day after that.

Not unless he asked her the question he’d been thinking about since the night he proposed this arrangement of theirs. Would she give him the rest of her time in Chicago? It wasn’t what they’d talked about or agreed upon. Only now everything felt different.

They’d had their one night, and selfish fuck that he was, he wanted more.

Only he didn’t want to take a moment that had been damn near perfect and ruin it by asking her for something she might not want to give. Christ, he didn’t want to take away anything from what they’d just shared.

She stirred in his arms, blinked a few times and then peered up at him with an adorable, bleary-eyed look. Sighing, she snuggled closer, her fingers trailing not so subtly down his abdomen.

He grinned when she poked at his dick and gave it a squeeze.

He was hard. Had been for probably an hour.

“Help you with something, ma’am?” he asked, not bothering to hide the smirk in his voice.

“Yes, well, since I enjoyed this beginner class so thoroughly, I was wondering if maybe an advanced class might be available?” she asked, pressing her breasts into him now.

And there it was. The perfect opening.

Rolling her to her back, he pushed his thigh between her legs and pulled her arms overhead, trapping her wrists in the loose hold of one hand. Her eyes widened, and she went a little breathy.

Someone was definitely ready for the advanced class. “We’ve got a variety of options you might be interested in,” he said, using his lips to toy with her nipple before giving it the smallest nip.

“Max!”

“There’s an accelerated program that begins in the next five minutes and ends about fifteen hours from now.”

“Fifteen hours,” she said, and he hoped like hell that was a pinch of disappointment he detected. “Sounds intense.”

“I won’t lie to you. It’s pretty rigorous.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek and manned up. “But if you were interested, there’s another class, a deeper, more extensive study that’s only completed when your instructor drops you at the airport at the end of the term.”

Sarah was quiet, and Max wondered if he’d just royally screwed up something perfectly sweet. But then she was pulling her hands free and linking her arms around his neck. “Are you sure, Max?” she asked quietly, hopefully.

He nodded. “Baby, never been more.”

* * *

A welcome wave of cool air poured over him as Max stepped into the bustling diner. They always attracted a degree of attention when dressed in uniform. Some good—like the little kid whose eyes had gone saucer-wide with hero worship the minute he’d seen them. Some less than good. It went with the job.

Seated in a booth by the windows, Carl waved Max and CJ over with a beaming smile that only seemed to get bigger through the years.

“’Bout time you boys showed up. Stop for a nap on your way over?” he ribbed, pushing the menus across the scarred tabletop.

“Can’t rush the hero work, Pops,” CJ replied as they joined him.

Max dropped into the booth beside him. “Especially not with this marshmallow dragging behind.” Then grinning across at Carl, he added, “Foot chase this morning, and your boy here could barely keep up. Dropped to his knees right in the alley, wheezing, ‘Go on without me!’”

Not exactly how it had gone down, but Max was going to tell it that way. This was payback his partner had coming in spades.

“Fucker,” CJ muttered affectionately from behind his menu. “I woulda had that guy myself if it wasn’t for the cat. Mangy beast came out of nowhere.”

Max snorted into his hand, looking across at Carl, who was shaking his head, mouth pulled to one side. “You know I’m gonna be hearing about my boy letting a little pussy get in the way of a bust through retirement, right?”

Probably more like a week or two, but yeah, Carl could count on it. There wasn’t a whole hell of a lot to ride him over, now that he’d been on desk duty a few years.

“No worries,” Max gloated. “I got the guy.”

“Seriously, Pops, that kid could have scored a track scholarship if he’d stayed in school rather than dealing outside one. Fuckin’ waste.”

Then CJ was elbowing Max, nodding across to where his dad was smoothing his hair as his favorite waitress came up to take their order. Linda was the reason they’d been Wednesday regulars for three years running, and Max had a feeling one day he was going to walk in and find Linda on Carl’s lap, a diamond on her finger. He couldn’t wait. For now though all she got was their order, and then it was back to shooting the shit.

Carl wanted to know if CJ was any closer to giving him a grandkid and whether Max had seen the sale Home Depot was running on the band saw he’d been looking at. They exchanged shop gossip over BLTs and turkey clubs, and when a call came over the radio, Max and CJ exchanged knowing looks. It was an all-too-familiar address, close to where they were.

Max threw down enough to cover the lunch, and Carl told them to be safe, watching them with pride in his eyes as they left.

“Always,” CJ promised as Max nodded.

Max’s father had been kicked off the force when Max was just a kid. Vick had been a shitty cop and an even shittier dad. But while he’d still been working his beat, Carl had been his partner. And after, the saving grace in Max’s life. It was like the man had seen what Max was up against at home and one day just consciously decided he wasn’t going to leave Max alone in it.

From time to time, he’d show up at Max’s games. Catch him after school and take him out for a haircut or a burger and ask about classes. Really ask—like wanting to know whether Max had been able to get the extra credit on the project he’d been working on the last time they went out. If he’d beat that Meg girl out for the top grade in trig. If he’d ever gotten around to asking her out. How things were at home.

Carl had introduced Max to community service, showing him ways even a teen could get involved and make a difference.

He’d been the man to instill a sense of right and wrong in Max, a sense of pride and worth. And it had been Carl’s footsteps Max had been following when he joined the force. And now, even at thirty years old, making Carl proud still meant a hell of a lot to him.

That was what Max was thinking about when they arrived at an apartment he’d visited too many times before. Neighbors had called it in again, and as he and CJ hoofed it up those last steps, he could hear the violence within. Sounds that echoed back to his youth.

“You wanna go?” a voice thundered from beyond the door. “Go! Get your shit, and get your worthless ass out of here. Think anyone’s going to want you now?”

Another crash, and this time the voice that cried out was small and weak.

Christ, the kid.

CJ’s eyes cut to Max’s, and with a nod, they moved in. It happened fast, the way it was supposed to. A flurry of controlled actions, over within seconds, all parties separated and Max radioing for an ambulance for the mother who looked like her wrist might be broken and the five-year-old girl with the big, blue eyes who reminded him too much of Molly and had a bloody gash running down the side of her face.

He’d been here before.

The first time, the mom hadn’t wanted to press charges. She’d said she was fine, that nothing physical had happened. Max fucking knew she was lying, but there wasn’t any evidence he could see. The second time, she’d stood there with a black eye and the skin across the bridge of her nose split, swearing up and down it had been an accident. The matching swollen split knuckle across the dad’s right hand suggested otherwise, and despite her pleas, Max had taken the guy in. But it didn’t stick, and now here this asshole was again, giving him the whole “Come on, I didn’t mean it” bullshit, while blood ran down his kid’s face, thanks to the bottle he’d launched across the room. Because he hadn’t even noticed her standing there.

This time the wife was pressing charges.

This time it was going to stick.

This time, Max walked out of there knowing this kid wasn’t coming back.

Jesus, how could people do this shit to each other?

* * *

Sarah was staring at her phone, chewing her lip in indecision. She wanted to see Max. See everyone. But she probably had a conservative two hours left before she’d get through her notes and could close out this project. She loved closing out projects.

She was going to call. It wouldn’t be a big deal. She’d just meet Max at the bar with everyone else…an hour or so late. And then she’d still have the night with him.

Why was she even debating about this?

She pulled up her contacts, ready to get it over with, when she heard a knock at her office door.

“Max?” she gasped, pushing up from her desk. “I was just going to call you. What are you doing here?”

Looking freshly scrubbed and, based on the time, having probably come straight from the precinct locker room, he shrugged and stepped into her office. “I know I’m early, and I don’t want to get in your way, but I thought I’d just hang out and wait for you to finish. Then we could leave together.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and then glanced down at her desk before giving her a sheepish grin. Or at least as sheepish as a tough guy like Max could offer. “But I can take off if you’re swamped. No problem.”

Swamped? Absolutely. And if he really didn’t mind? She glanced up at him, and the words on the tip of her tongue fell away.

“Are you okay?” she asked instead, resting her palm against the center of his chest.

He nodded, but she could see the lines of strain in his face and his eyes.

Something wasn’t right. “Is it CJ? Max—”

“No, babe. Everyone is fine. Just one of those days that gets to you, you know. On the scale, it wasn’t even that bad, just…”

“Just one of those days,” she said, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. He sat down, and though they were in her office, she didn’t hesitate when he pulled her into his lap and tucked her head against his chest.

“I’ll let you work. Just give me one minute like this, and then you can get back to it.”

Linking her arms around his neck, she pressed her brow to his. “I was about done anyway. How about one minute now, and then we get out of here. Go back to your place and take a few hours like this. The whole night if you want it.”

His fingers tightened in her hair and he nodded, not saying a word.

* * *

A week later, Sarah was grabbing her purse, just heading out to lunch with Maria and a few other girls from work who were all clamoring to go back to the little Italian place with the waiter who looked like Tom Hardy. Exactly like Tom Hardy, complete with lips that were “just freaking begging for a nibble,” according to Roxi from shipping. And while Tom Hardy was no Max Brandt, Sarah definitely wanted a chance to judge for herself. But then her phone rang and it was Sean, apologizing for getting in the way of the look-alike celebrity stalk and asking if she could meet him for lunch instead. It was about work.

Sending off a regret-filled text for the girls and a dictate to go ahead without her, she took the stairs down to the restaurant, where Sean was already waiting. Once they were seated by the bank of windows overlooking the lakefront, Sean asked for a bottle of pinot to be brought over.

“Wine okay with you?” He checked more as an afterthought, but she knew he would cancel the order if she said no.

Sarah laughed, raising her brow. “Really?”

Sean gave her his charming, professional smile—the one that was remarkably different from what he’d been flashing when he called Brody a chode slurper for nailing a bull’s-eye the Wednesday before. Sean asked a few questions about events for the following week, talked a bit about numbers, and then leaned back in his chair when Joy stopped back at the table with the wine. When he and Sarah both had a glass in hand, Sean cocked his jaw to the side and gave her an assessing look.

“What?” she asked, forcing herself not to fidget.

“I need a favor.”

Lifting her glass to her lips, she took a hearty swallow, nodding at him once she set the glass back on the table. “Go.”

Whatever it was, she could handle it. If the job in Manhattan had fallen through, she would be fine. Even though it was the job she’d been after for three years and she’d wanted it bad enough to take on this interim position. It was going to be fine. If she lost the job, then maybe—

“The project Kim is wrapping up in Manhattan is delayed, and we’re asking if you’d be able to give us another three weeks to let her close it before moving over.”

The breath she’d been holding was starting to hurt, but no way was she going to let on how deeply this subject affected her, so she released it slowly rather than in a desperate gasp. They still wanted her. Even better, this meant three more weeks with Max!

Wait. Even better? Where had that come from? This was the job she’d been waiting for. There was nothing better than knowing it was still hers. The bit about having more time in Max’s arms and bed and with his group of friends—well, that was definitely a bonus. Just not better.

“That means you want me to keep filling in here?” she asked to clarify the point.

“We’ll be back to full staff by then.” Lifting the menu she was sure he knew by heart, Sean gave it a single glance before setting it aside. “But you’ve been doing a remarkable job with the projection work I’ve been giving you. I could still use a hand.”

That caught her attention. The project she’d been helping Sean with the past few weeks had been satisfying with a capital S. It was the kind of work she only hoped they would give her in New York—after another year or two. If she was looking at more of the same now, then count her in. She’d let them push Manhattan back as long as they wanted.

Sean continued. “That said, we fully recognize we’ve inconvenienced you enough already by asking you to accommodate our schedule with the transition from San Francisco to Manhattan, so if you’d like to get on with your relocation plans as scheduled, it’s entirely up to you.”

“No, no. Three weeks is fine. I’m happy to stay,” she assured him with an eager rush.

Sean raised a brow. “I’m serious, Sarah. No hard feelings. No impact on your coming position. If you left on schedule, they’d have something to keep you busy.”

“I’m good!” Sweeping up her glass, she reached across to clink his. “I’ll stay.”

Looking as satisfied as she felt, Sean grinned. “Glad to hear it.”

Six hours later, Sarah was practically skipping up the walk to Max’s place. She couldn’t wait to tell him. He’d known how exciting it was for her to work on that piece of the marketing strategy. He’d even taken her out to celebrate. And this would be even better, because instead of leaving in just over three weeks, she’d have more than six.

Max swung open the door before she had a chance to knock, and she launched herself into his arms, kissing him over and over because she got to keep him for another three weeks!

Laughing at the barrage of kisses, Max caught her by the back of the head and then, holding her still, took control. He gave her his tongue, licking and thrusting deep, until she was moaning and wrapping her legs around him.

The world was spinning, and she never wanted the ride to stop. The door closed and then she was braced against it, with Max hard between her legs.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he growled, rolling his hips exactly right. “Tell me what I did to earn this kind of hello. I’ll do it every time I see you.”

So many more times!

“I’ve got the best news, Max.” Draping her arms over his shoulders, she ran her fingers through his hair. “Turns out I won’t be leaving at the end of August like I thought.”

That sexy, possessive look blinked clear, and then Max had her on her feet as he jerked back.

“Whoa, Sarah, wait. What are you talking about?” he asked, alarm she didn’t understand filling his eyes.

Then it hit her. The phrasing.

He thought—

Oh man.

Raising a hand, she shook her head. “Settle down, slugger. You don’t need to freak out,” she said, laughing, because the poor guy looked like he’d just stepped on a land mine and was waiting for it to detonate. “There’s a delay in New York, and Sean asked if I’d be willing to spend the extra weeks here.”

That still, breath-held tension dissipated, and Max palmed the back of his head. “Wow, I thought you were saying—” He didn’t bother to finish his sentence. They both knew what he was thinking. A smile spread across his face as he pulled her in tight. “So I’ll get to keep you a few more weeks, huh?”

Wow, she liked the sound of that. Still pressing her hand to that sexy spot at the center of his chest, she met his eyes so he’d know she meant what she was about to say. “Only if you want to. I mean, just because I’m here doesn’t mean this has to be a part of it.”

“Oh, I want it,” he promised, his hand sliding over her ass and curving between her legs. “I want every extra second I can get with you. You sure you still want me?”

To a moderately disturbing degree. “I do. Especially if it means I get three more weeks of the advanced class.”

Max’s eyes darkened, his voice going rough. “What exactly are you planning to learn in the advanced class, Sarah?”

She pushed to her toes and linked her arms around Max’s neck, pulling him down to her as she murmured her answer in his ear.

His body tensed as an agonized groan rumbled from deep in his chest. And then he was moving in a blur. Her legs were caught up at either side of his hips, his hands gripping the backs of her thighs in a rough hold that was definitely doing it for her, while his mouth devoured hers. She’d take that as an addition to the curriculum.

* * *

It was one of those perfect days. Sunshiny and warm, with just enough breeze to keep the air from feeling hot. The sky was cartoon blue with a few puffy clouds scattered across it. And to top it off, Max had Sarah wrapped tight around him, her arms locked across his chest, her thighs spread at his hips, and the throaty rumble of his bike between their legs as he rode up Peterson on the Northwest Side.

Max hung a right, digging the way Sarah clung to him as he took the turn. A few blocks up, he cut the engine and waited for her to crawl off the bike before rocking it up on its stand and stowing their helmets.

“I’ll never get used to that.” She laughed breathlessly from the parkway where she stood finger-combing her dark hair back into a low ponytail, while watching him with a wide smile on her face.

He was pretty sure he’d never get used to the way that smile hit him dead center every time.

As soon as the thought hit him, he realized how true it was. She’d be gone in a matter of weeks. A fact he kept trying to ignore, but couldn’t quite manage. He’d give anything to go back to when she wasn’t leaving for another month and it still felt like he had forever with her. Now there was a ticking clock between them, and Max was doing his damnedest not to let that dark cloud on the horizon ruin the rest of their time together.

He grinned back at her. “I hope you don’t. For that smile, you can come back to Chicago, and I’ll give you a ride anytime you want.”

“I’ll remember that,” she said, looking away before he could read anything from her. Like whether the thought of coming back might hold some appeal, or if she simply hadn’t wanted him to see her certainty that it would never happen.

Reaching for her hand, he started walking toward the gate at the side of the house. “Thanks for coming with me today.”

“You sure Ernie won’t mind?”

Max threaded his fingers with hers, tugging her closer for a quick kiss. “He’ll be stoked. The guys at the precinct have been giving me grief for weeks about wanting to meet you.” Especially CJ, who’d helped him move in the living room set that Sarah had spent an entire day helping Max pick out the week before. “Don’t be surprised if they won’t leave you alone.”

“Consider me warned,” she said with an easy laugh.

He was breaking another long-standing rule: no dates at “family” parties. But damn, if it didn’t feel good to have her at his side. He hadn’t even thought about bringing her until CJ asked if she’d be there. At which point Max realized that while he’d never brought a date before, all the other guys had. Sure, they were usually wives or girlfriends of some significance, but hell, so was Sarah.

She meant something to him, and while he had her, he was proud to show her off.

The music was cranked as he held the gate open and followed Sarah around the side of the bungalow to where a dozen cops were sitting in mismatched lawn chairs, their significant others clustered together at a picnic table in the back corner.

Leading Sarah over to where Ernie was manning the barbecue, a can of MGD in one hand and tongs in the other, Max joked, “All this for me? Damn, man, I’m flattered.”

“Brandt, you made it.” His buddy greeted him with a grin that only got wider as he looked Sarah up and down. “And you gotta be Sarah. We were starting to think you were a figment of this guy’s imagination. What the hell’s a gorgeous girl like you doing with this bag of nuts?”

Sarah was waving him off, a pretty blush in her cheeks. “Oh no. You’ve got it all wrong. I just met this guy. He agreed not to give me a ticket if I’d come with him.”

Christ. Add Ernie to the list of guys to fall for Sarah Cole.

Ernie snapped his tongs in the air, so all the guys looked over at them. “First one of you to get Brandt out of the way gets the next brat. I got dibs on his girl.”

Laughter and good-natured ribbing sounded all around them, while Max shook his head and pulled Sarah into his hold. They joked around some more, grabbed a couple of drinks, and then settled in to chat with Ernie and a couple of the guys.

“This is a gorgeous yard,” Sarah gushed as she took in her surroundings. “Max said you built the pergola yourself. I’m impressed.”

And if Ernie hadn’t been gone for her already, that would have done it. The guy started talking about the landscaping, which had been a bitch of a job. Max knew firsthand because of the couple of weekends he’d helped. Sarah listened like she’d never heard anything more fascinating in her life, oohing and aahing at all the right times. Asking questions that invited Ernie to tell her more about what was obviously a topic close to his heart. Anyone else, and Max’s BS meter would be spiking, but Sarah had always been interested in hearing what made other people happy. She was just that kind of sweet and special.

And he had less than a month left with her.

Shit.

Pretty soon, the guys were all clustering around, introducing their better halves and falling for the woman Max didn’t know how he was going to let go.

“Come on, this girl!” Mick boomed in his thick Chicago accent, tears of laughter leaking from his eyes. “Max, you gotta put a ring on that, and I mean like yesterday. Otherwise, some other lucky schmo is gonna snap her up.”

Max coughed into his free hand.

“Jeez, Mick, easy,” Jimmy cut in, walking up in a pair of faded cargos with beer cans sweating through both side pockets. “You’re gonna scare her off. We gotta woo her some.”

Sarah was laughing, her hand at her throat, her eyes bright. Beautiful.

“Sorry to break your hearts,” Max warned, knowing what he was about to say wouldn’t do any good. These guys had known her for five minutes, and they were already goners. Welcome to the club, boys. “But don’t get too used to Sarah being around. She’s only in town for another couple of weeks before she’s moving to New York for a badass job in Wyse’s top-earning hotel.”

“Nah, nah. We just need to give your girl some more information to work with. Make sure she knows that beneath this crude exterior, our boy Brandt’s got some quality shit going on.”

Sarah was trying to keep a straight face, but Max was cringing.

“We gotta get her on the hook.”

“I think Carl’s a step ahead of you on that count.” Sarah pinned Mick with an amused look, recounting Carl’s tall tales from that first night. Yeah, Max remembered. The guys were hooting it up, rolling with Carl’s lies. But Max tensed, knowing it was too much to hope that steel-trap mind of hers would have forgotten what else Carl had said. “And then there was the whole taking a bullet thing,” she added, shaking her head with laughter—until the other guys cut off abruptly.

Her head came up with a snap as she looked from one to the other before turning those big, brown eyes on Max, the question unmistakable within them.

Before he could answer, Jimmy stated solemnly, “Yeah, our Max here’s a real hero. That’s no joke.” While Mick added, “He did good that day. Made the whole city proud.”

The fingers woven with his tightened, Sarah’s eyes taking on a glossy sheen as they lowered, slowly scanning Max’s body like she was looking for the blood soaking through his clothes. “That scar on your thigh. It wasn’t a camping accident.”

No. But it had been easier for him to tell people that.

“It was a long time ago, Sarah,” Max stated firmly, catching her chin with the crook of his finger and bringing her gaze back to his. “It wasn’t serious.”

The guys turned away from them then, suddenly fascinated by the char marks on their brats. They had wives and girlfriends who worried, but this was the first for Max. He’d never had to have “the talk” before. His dad had been a cop, so he and Molly had grown up understanding how it worked. The same with Joan. But Sarah—hell, she was smart enough to know the risks he faced on a daily basis. Still, there was a reality to what he did for a living that she’d just had brought home.

Max led Sarah past the pergola and around the far side of the house where there was a strip of grass maybe three feet wide. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she shook her head.

“I know you’re fine,” she whispered, her voice thick. “I can see with my own two eyes you’re okay, but the thought of a bullet—” Her voice broke off, and she looked into his eyes as if willing him to hear what she was saying, to understand what it meant to her. “I know how dangerous your job can be. How important it is, and that’s why you’re willing to risk yourself every time you go out there. But—you were sh-shot, Max. You c-could have been killed.”

“But I wasn’t,” he said gently, firmly. “Baby, I’m right here.” Then pulling her to his chest, he wrapped his arms around her back and held her close. He could say that all he was doing was trying to offer her some comfort, but there was more to it. He was trying to get control of his own heart, of his own voice. Because seeing this woman look at him like that—like the idea of him being hurt, no matter how long ago, nearly broke her—it affected him. More than he was ready for.

“Don’t cry,” he pleaded, feeling her back shudder within his arms, her worry soaking into his shirt. Her tears were gutting him. Making him wonder how he was ever going to let her go.

Sarah sniffed once more, then quickly straightened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so emotional, Max. It took me by surprise, and the thought of anything happening to you—” She broke off again, but she was already pulling herself together. Peering up at him with watery eyes, she sighed. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you in front of your friends.”

He brushed at her tears with his thumb. Then ducking down, Max kissed her. Tasting the salty emotion on her lips, he pulled her close again. “Never, baby.”

* * *

Hours later, they left the party, Sarah sharing tight hugs with the girls she’d talked to, promising to send Vin’s wife, Peg, a recipe and Nora, one of the two female officers at the party, a snapshot from Times Square when she arrived in New York. At first it had seemed strange when she realized the only plus-ones at the party were filed under “significant other.” Emphasis on significant. Most were wives, and the couple of girlfriends in the mix had been with their guys for years. And then there was her.

The summer affair with an expiration date right around the corner.

As they cut through the city streets, Sarah’s head resting against Max’s back, her arms holding him tight, she tried not to think what it would be like to have all those people as her friends. To know she’d see them in a few weeks. To be around to congratulate Darcy when Mick gave her the ring she’d accidentally found the week before. To see Clara’s baby when it was born. To have Max making her feel beautiful and special for more than just a few weeks. To be there every night and know he’d made it home safe.

She sighed, calling up thoughts of New York. Waiting for that soul-deep churn of anticipation. The anticipation was still there, yes, but it wasn’t powerful enough to distract her from the ache of good-bye.