Chapter 3

One little yes, and Piper was acting like Sarah had signed a blood contract with the devil. Her friend wouldn’t be getting her hopes up if she knew how things had ended between them back in school, but what happened with Max was one confession Sarah hadn’t been able to bring herself to make.

No way would Max be helping her out with her little problem. He’d had the chance eight years ago—and passed. So, been there. Done that. Not up for another rejection.

“This isn’t what you think.” Sarah warned her friend in the thankfully clean and artfully decorated ladies’ room. “Just settle down.”

Piper wasn’t convinced. Dancing her way into the first open stall, she closed the door and promptly started talking through it. “Pay attention, Sarah. It’s totally what I’m thinking. Didn’t you see how he was looking at you?”

Sarah crossed her arms, listening to the woman she trusted more than anyone. “I don’t know. He’s a player. He’s wired to look at everyone like that. He’d look at your grandmother like that.”

“No way. This is our guy! I can feel it.” The toilet flushed, and Piper bounced out of the stall and went to the sink to clean up. “He looks like he’d be good, too.”

That was what the rumor had been.

“We’re just talking.”

Eyeing Sarah through the mirror while they were touching up their lip gloss, Piper smiled. “Yeah, sure. And PS, I remember how you used to talk about him. You totally skimped on the details, because ‘crazy hot,’ while accurate, barely skims the surface with that guy.” She tucked her lips together, evening out a fresh coat of gloss before elaborating. “I mean, those eyelashes! I’d kill for lashes that thick and long, but seeing them in the mix with that chiseled jaw and sexy mouth? Gotta admit, I’m a little swoony.”

Join the club. “Yeah, he still looks good.”

Dropping the gloss back in her purse, Piper added, “I’ll get home on my own.” Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but Piper held up a hand. “No arguments.”

Back in the bar, the music was louder, and the crowd had increased to the point that weaving their way through the patrons took some time. When they arrived at the sectioned-off private party, Sarah’s feet stayed rooted where they were, causing Piper to bump into her from behind.

This was bedlam.

A man was standing on a table and dancing between three women, two on one side and one on the other. He was wearing a white T-shirt covered in Sharpie marker, and his face was sporting a rash of overlapping lipstick kisses in various shades.

This was obviously the groom-to-be, based on the plushy ball and chain attached to his ankle and the felt top hat he was using to catch what looked like condoms being thrown by men and women alike from around the room.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” Sarah said over her shoulder, looking back in time to see an older man with rosy cheeks and a well-fed middle hoist himself up on a chair and start air grinding to the music.

Piper stepped to her side, standing close so their shoulders pressed together.

“Bite your tongue. I wanna watch.”

“Yeah, but from the safety of where?” The guys were rowdy. Sure they didn’t seem like they were going to hurt themselves or anyone else, but moderation definitely wasn’t the theme of the night.

Piper elbowed her. “I’m guessing anywhere. Looks like your Safewalk stud is still volunteering to keep people out of trouble.”

Sure enough, Max was rounding the table, amusement and concern warring in his eyes as he got ahold of the older man’s sleeve and waved him toward one of the booths bordering the area. Whatever he said, the guy took it well, throwing his head back for the kind of laugh that couldn’t be faked. And then he was walking to the half-full booth of guys.

Max looked up, catching Sarah’s eye, and started over to where she and Piper were hovering at the edge of the room.

Piper leaned closer. “Vacation time, right?”

Right.

“Hey, girls, sorry you had to see that,” Max said with a grin. “CJ’s dad is a party kind of guy, even when it isn’t his kid getting hitched. But tonight? Hell, I’m keepin’ my eye on that one.”

“So you’re like the chaperone or something?” Piper asked with one of those pitying smiles she did so well pulling at her lips.

“Or something. I’m the best man. Which means the buck stops with me, and someone’s got to keep these guys out of too much trouble.” Max nodded toward the party. “Let’s go,” he said to Sarah. “I wanna hear what all has changed with you, and even better, what’s still the same.”

Sarah hesitated, but then Max flashed her a smile so criminally sexy that she couldn’t believe one of these cops didn’t slap a pair of cuffs on him. It was the kind of smile that screamed trouble…and this time, it didn’t take any of Piper’s reminders for her to agree.

* * *

For a guy who had what was widely understood to be serious game when it came to women, Max sure wasn’t showing it tonight. Starting with inviting Sarah to join them for a bachelor party with a bunch of guys he knew were planning to cut loose in a way you didn’t want good girls around. But damn, he’d wanted to talk to her, and one look was enough to scramble his brain to the point that something as simple as asking if she’d wanted to grab a cup of coffee the next day was beyond him. All he’d been able to think was he didn’t want her to fucking leave.

He couldn’t even blame the booze, since he was rocking a two light-beer limit just to make sure no one ended up getting thrown in the clink for drunk and disorderly. Not that he thought these guys actually would, but considering the shit that went down every time Jase Foster got called up to be best man, he wasn’t about to take the chance.

Max had enough of a reputation without that following him around too. But more, tonight was important, meaningful, and he wanted to make sure that when it was over, everyone could look back with a smile and zero regrets.

Everyone except for him, he thought, watching Sarah and Piper dancing with CJ’s dad, Carl, to Janelle Monáe’s “Yoga,” which was both hilarious and deeply disturbing. The girls were having fun, based on the laughter he’d caught when Carl and his gang of cronies descended on them. Unfortunately, that had been about when Max found himself tied up with Mickey, who he’d been tasked with not allowing to call his ex, and CJ, who’d been making teary-eyed, overemotional toasts to Max on and off for the last forty minutes. Plus, he’d been trying to hold off the inevitable. The trip to the gentlemen’s club.

There was no getting out of being in charge, not with this crowd. But he’d thought there’d be more time before they needed to leave. Unfortunately, the natives—or rather, the rookies—were getting restless, and Max still hadn’t had a chance to really talk to Sarah.

Her eyes were crinkled with laughter as Carl undulated to the song like his joints weren’t already five years past their warranty. Max should probably crush a couple of ibuprofen and slip them into Carl’s beer. Even if the old guy was shamelessly hitting on Max’s girl.

The thought stopped him in his tracks, because Sarah wasn’t his girl. Not even close.

She wasn’t even his friend really, though he’d always consider her one.

She was just the woman he’d mostly known better about. An older version of the girl who’d gotten to him in a way he hadn’t seen coming. She was the harsh reminder of why the rules he lived by were important—and how bad it sucked when he tried to ignore one. But even with that fuck ton of clarification, he was pretty damn sure what he wanted was to make her his girl.

The reasons he hadn’t been able to back in college didn’t apply anymore. They were both adults now. With enough life experience to land them on even ground. So maybe this was their chance. Their window for something short and sweet. Max wasn’t built for more than that, and more importantly, Sarah was only going to be in town for two months before transferring to New York. He still wasn’t one hundred percent sure what her job was. She’d tried to tell him, but then Carl had started doing a thankfully short-lived striptease. Needless to say, the crowd had gone wild, so Max hadn’t caught all of what she’d been saying. Apparently, she’d been in San Francisco and was being promoted to a position in New York, but for one reason or another, it required some time in Chicago between.

Max stumbled forward as someone knocked into him from behind. Turning, he found Jimmy swaying where he stood. The guy was going to be feeling this tomorrow.

“Max, the girls. The titties,” he pleaded, a lecherous grin on his face.

Jesus. “Yeah, in a while. Hang tight, man,” Max said, edging closer to where Sarah was still dancing with the senior sect.

Enough was enough. Moving into the fray, Max caught her hand and nodded toward the far end of the room. Carl and the guys let out a few heartfelt cries of protest, but Sarah laughed, thanking them for the dances and flashing that killer smile like she had no idea the damage it could do.

“Hey, sorry I’ve been tied up,” Max said, leading her toward the back of the room where they were out of the way, but he could still keep an eye on things. “Having fun though?”

“I am,” she assured him, pushing her hair back from her face. It was slightly sweaty, and a few of the dark strands had begun to curl in front of her ears, but that little bit of messed up looked awfully good on her. “And don’t worry about being busy. Carl’s been filling me in on all your accomplishments. Sounds like you’re a real hero.”

“Carl’s a good guy, but whatever he told you, uh, you want to take with a large grain of salt.”

Despite the fact that he already had a kid of his own, Carl had taken on a sort of paternal role in Max’s life. He’d been partnered with Max’s dad back in the early days, and for whatever reason, even after Max’s old man got kicked off the force and later did the rest of the human population a favor and succumbed to a stroke, Carl had kept up with Max. He’d looked out for him when he was a kid, making sure things weren’t getting too bad at home, that Max had what he needed, and when Max joined the force, he took him under his wing. They didn’t get any better than Carl. But sometimes the old softy got carried away trying to make sure Max scored the kind of happily ever after Carl wanted for him.

“So it’s safe to assume you didn’t actually stop the kidnapping of a poor orphaned girl today by pursuing her abductors on foot and then leaping an opening drawbridge across the river?”

Max coughed into his hand. “Not so much.”

“Or take down four armed assailants, bare-handed, to prevent the mugging of a sweet old lady.”

He shook his head and wiped the smile from his face.

“Yeah, I kind of figured he was trying to lay the groundwork for you when he told me you’d taken a bullet for a little boy and everything.”

Max shifted uncomfortably.

“Carl must like you a lot to be working that kind of hard sell.”

“Carl needs a hobby,” Max muttered, with a glance back at CJ, who was still table dancing.

“How about you?” she asked, peering up at him. “What do you need?”

Max grinned because if his ears hadn’t deceived him, his favorite good girl had just thrown him a line. One she looked like she might be choking on, based on the way her features froze and how she slowly started turning away.

The pink burning up her neck and cheeks was about the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“That didn’t come out the way I meant it,” she sputtered, her eyes fixed on some point high above him.

Maybe not, but he liked the way it landed one hell of a lot. Even without much chance to talk, Max knew this woman in front of him already. And he still felt the connection he’d been tangled up in those last few months of school.

Catching her hand in his, he pulled her a single step closer. Felt the hard thud of his heart when she let him. And the harder thud when she met his eyes. “What I need is to hear what you’ve been up to since the last time I saw you.”

* * *

“Engaged, huh?” Max might have heard something about it. He looked back over his shoulder to see the guys acting like this was the first time they’d been let out of the zoo. Cringing, he asked, “This doesn’t bother you, does it? Being at a bachelor party? Getting ready for a wedding?”

Sarah waved him off with a face he thought was sincere. “Not at all. First, it’s been four years since I ended things with Cory—”

“Whoa.” Max held up a hand to interrupt her. “I’ve got a really sweet kid I volunteer with named Cory. Any chance we can refer to your ex by something that won’t leave me glowering at my man every time I see him?”

Her laugh was soft as she asked, “Like what?”

“I’m thinking ‘that douche you used to date’ but maybe just ‘that douche’ for short. Keep it simple.”

Sarah’s mouth dropped open, her brows rising in surprise.

“I get you’ve probably had time to deal with your feelings about what went down with this guy, but for me? It’s still fresh.” While Max was definitely working for Sarah’s smile, it didn’t make what he was saying any less true. He couldn’t believe any schmo lucky enough to get a ring on this girl’s finger could be dumb enough to dick around on her while it was there. How could he not realize what he had, how precious it was? Or how many other guys would have done just about anything to have it for themselves? Yeah, it pissed him off good.

“I completely understand. You need some time to process before you’ll be able to let it go, huh?”

Max shrugged, then looking more serious asked, “You’ve let it go?”

Sarah nodded, those big brown eyes meeting his. “Four years is a long time. Longer than we were together. And the truth is, as mad as I was about what happened, I realized pretty quickly that a part of me was more than a little relieved when the relationship ended.”

“Very mature of you,” Max offered, thinking about the one time in his life when he’d been in that position, and how very far from mature he’d been in handling it.

“What’s with the face?” he asked with a laugh, because clearly something hadn’t sat right with Sarah.

“Ugh, the whole maturity thing. If I could go back and do it again—and I’m talking all the way back to school, not just ‘that douche,’ though he was definitely a part of it—I’d try to be less mature about everything and just live it up a little. There’s a part of me that feels like I missed out some, you know?” Sarah cocked her head and peered up at the ceiling.

“You were pretty serious about school.” He could remember trying to talk her into coming to a few parties, half admiring her focus and dedication, and half wanting to corrupt her. “There are worse things to be. You can trust me on that.”

Her quiet smile pulled at that squishy place deep in his chest restricted to Budweiser Super Bowl commercials and viral Facebook videos of disabled kids finishing their first race. But then Sarah was dismissively waving her hand between them. “I know you’re right, and I shouldn’t complain about it. That unfortunate case of early-onset maturity got me a lot of places. It set me up with a solid foundation for after ‘that douche.’”

“You’re liking the name now. I can tell.” He sure liked hearing her say it.

Her grin admitted as much.

“I used that foundation to launch my career.”

“Marketing manager?” he asked, still not clear.

“Essentially.”

“So you’re doing well.”

“I am. And from what Carl tells me, so are you.”

Despite whatever conflicted feelings she might have had about her well-spent youth, there was no mistaking the pride in her eyes when it came to her career. And yet, something about her segue made it clear she didn’t want to get too caught up in talking about it, which he got. Shoptalk was a handy fallback for those times when you just needed to fill the airwaves. But Max wasn’t killing time trying to be polite.

“Okay, so what do you say we leave the jobs out of it and get down to the gritty stuff?”

Her head cocked to the side. “Gritty, hmm? Such as?”

Leaning closer, Max leveled her with his most serious stare. “Snack foods. What’s your go-to?”

Turns out his girl had a weakness for trail mix and string cheese. And her laugh still got to him the same way it had eight years ago. The conversation came easily. They talked about what she’d missed most in Chicago (the summer festivals), what she’d loved best in San Francisco (being able to drive up to Tahoe for the weekend), and what she was looking forward to in New York (everything). He gave up a few choice stories from the academy days. Stories he never told anyone, but shared with her because he wanted to hear her laugh. And the more they talked, the more the years seemed to fall away, and details about this woman standing so temptingly close came back to him.

Sarah’s drink was empty, so he took it off her hands and leaned past her to set it on the empty corner of the table behind them. It wasn’t a move, but the action brought him further into her space. She peered up at him as he was looking down. Their eyes met and—Christ.

He should have looked away. Stepped back and asked her something benign about her new apartment or whether she had any pets. Only he couldn’t do it. Having Sarah’s eyes locked with his, that gentle puff of air teasing across his neck… It was too much, and he gave in to what he’d been telling himself he wouldn’t for the last hour. He brushed those few strands of silk from her cheek behind her ear.

Soft.

So unbelievably soft.

And then, standing so close, with the backs of his fingers still smoothing down the fall of her hair, he felt it. That small quake running through her from his touch. She blinked quickly, but didn’t look away. Didn’t step back or give him any of the warning signs that would make him ease off.

“Sarah.” He didn’t know what he was about to ask, but seeing her looking up at him like she had that last night, he had to say her name.

The distance between them closed, and Max realized that this time he hadn’t been the one to do it. Sarah.

It was like a switch had been thrown, and that low buzz beneath his skin became a high-voltage current coursing through his veins. He went from barely skimming his fingers over her hair to sliding his hand beneath it, cupping her neck, and drawing her close. Her focus dropped to his mouth, and every fuse in his body blew at once as—

The air punched out of Max’s lungs as one hundred and eighty pounds of drunk-ass landed on his back. Sarah stepped clear, those deep mahogany eyes darting away. Damn it. Max tried to catch her, but CJ was hanging tight, his arms in a sloppy choke hold.

Hot beer breath washed over Max’s cheek. “Dude, this is the best party ever. I love you, man.”

Max cranked his head around and gave his partner a grin as he took advantage of an open pressure point to get CJ to release his hold—nicely, because the night was about CJ and it would be a total dick move to get pissed at the man of the hour for getting in the way of the girl of the night. Except that wasn’t what this was. Sarah could never be that. Not to him.

Once he had his windpipe back and knew CJ was still good to stand on his own feet, Max turned back to her.

“You okay?” he asked, hoping he hadn’t bumped her or anything when CJ landed on him.

She was several steps away now, the distance growing as the guys started to gather around.

“I’m fine,” she said with a smile, but he could see from her expression that she might be a little embarrassed by what had almost happened, which made him feel shitty. Because even all these years later, it would be nuts to think that much had changed. Sure, she wouldn’t be saving herself for love anymore. She’d found it for a while—though damn, it bummed him out to think about a guy so unworthy taking something that meant so much to her. He stepped toward her, but then someone had his arm. It was Carl, so Max ducked his head to hear the older man.

“Time to hit the next stop, kid.”

Max winced. The next stop was the gentlemen’s club, and no way was he going to be able to ask Sarah to join them there. She was standing off a ways with Piper, both girls laughing.

When Sarah’s head came up and their eyes met, he signaled for her to give him a minute. He got the tabs and tips squared away, while the guys started filing out for the cabs.

“Yo, Brandt,” Lopez called from across the room, looking a little too amused for Max’s taste. “Jimmy’s in the can, and, uh, you want to come help out a sec?”

Max grimaced. He’d had a feeling about that guy. “Yeah,” he replied. Give me a minute, he mouthed to Sarah.

That minute took closer to ten, and once Max had finally poured the rookie into a cab with Lopez, who’d agreed to get him home before meeting them back at the club, Max jogged back into the bar to find Sarah. To make some plans. Any other woman, and he might have offered to show up at her place after the club. Any other time, he would have left with her already. But not with Sarah and not tonight.

He walked through the bar but didn’t see her.

She wouldn’t have taken off like that unless she’d thought he was already gone when he’d been waiting on Jimmy to finish hurking his guts out. Shit. Max made another pass and even asked the girl who’d been handling their party if she’d check the ladies’ room for him. But he already knew.

Sarah was gone.