Officer Max

by Abby Knox

  Me, it should be me.

  “Oh, Shane,” I say as I remember the plan for today. “Today is Emily’s party. Are you excited?”

  “Can I get her a present? She can have my Thor.”

  Shane’s generosity in wanting to give away his favorite action figure touches the soft spot in my heart.

  “That’s very sweet of you, honey, but how would you like to go to Target and pick out something special for Emily?”

  Shane’s eyes widen. “Target? Can Max come with us?”

  I look to Max, who nods. “I got nowhere else to be.”

  “OK!” Shane exclaims, running off to get himself dressed for the first time in his young life, doing so without me haranguing him.

  I turn and catch Max grinning impishly at me. I know what he’s thinking. He’s thinking about last night.

  As much as I don’t want Max hanging around my work, unintentionally intimidating my clients and knocking over salt lamps, I also think it might be nice if they didn’t catch the stalker just yet. I am looking forward to spending the morning shopping with Shane, and with this big specimen of humanity lurking behind us, watching our every move. It sounds crazy to think of it like that. But I sure do enjoy having another adult in my life.

  A trip to Target with a fearless four-year-old and a six-foot-four bodyguard goes exactly how I would have imagined it would go.

  As soon as we make our way through the sliding glass doors and I grab a red buggy, I see Shane tugging Max by the hand toward the one-dollar section.

  I smile to myself, lagging behind just so I can take in the picture of the gentle giant with the bossy little shrimp.

  “How about this?” I hear Max say, picking up a $1 pencil with a decorative ball of pink faux fur fluff on the end.

  Shane looks thoughtful for a moment, then says, “Not bad, but she can’t write her name yet. A pencil on her birthday might make her cry. Let’s try again.” He plucks the fluffy pencil away and puts it back in the bin.

  Max looks back at me and I shrug. “You’re pretty good at this, Shane,” he says.

  Shane moves on to pick out some purple sunglasses and Max chooses a matching purse, which meets with Shane’s approval.

  Shane generously offers, “You’re getting better. Maybe we can practice some more next month when it’s Mommy’s birthday.”

  Max shoots me a look that tells me he’s definitely interested in being around that long, whether or not he’s on guard duty. I feel a twinge of happiness in my stomach that I’ve not had for a very long time.

  The goofy smile refuses to leave my face as we swing through the party supply aisle for a plain paper gift bag and tissue paper.

  As I usually do on the morning of kid parties, I find myself in the car, assembling a gift bag and writing “To” and “From” in fancy Sharpie lettering on the outside of the bag, forgoing a greeting card.

  “You can go ahead and drive. I can do this while the car is moving,” I offer.

  Max shrugs, his massive forearms relaxed on the wheel. “No big deal to wait. I don’t want you to mess up your writing.”

  This small bit of consideration is not unnoticed. It’s one of those thoughtful gestures—waiting for me because he knows I want to get something just right—that will go into my memory bank forever.

  “Interesting,” Max says, watching me do my calligraphy work while he fluffs up the tissue paper to hide all the birthday trinkets inside.

  “Thanks,” I say, “It’s a money saving hack. Kids don’t care about cards.”

  Max chuckles. “Good to know,” he says, casting a glance to the backseat of the car, where Shane is buckling himself into his booster seat.

  “I like Hot Wheels,” Shane chimes in. “And the Hot Wheels tracks. Mommy says they’re cheap but keep me busy for hours—the best gift ever.”

  Max laughs. “Your mom is a smart lady. You ready to party like a pirate?”

  I finish preparing the gift bag, and look up at Max, who smiles at me as he starts the car.

  “Yes, but I don’t want to wear an eyepatch like everybody else,” Shane replies.

  “Nope, that’ll be me in the eyepatch, unfortunately,” Max playfully mutters, cranking the wheel as we exit the parking lot.

  Chapter Twelve

  Max

  I hope nobody can tell that I feel as pretty as Johnny Depp in this ruffled pirate shirt.

  It’s not bad. Comfortable, even. I look at myself in the bathroom mirror of the pool house as I’m getting ready to make my grand entrance. Millie called it a “tunic,” while she helped out by applying some black shit around my eyes and adjusting a three-cornered-hat from the Halloween store, a hat that looks like it was made for a head half the size of mine.

  I look at myself in the mirror and it’s not as terrible as I thought. I’m used to wearing costumes and even a little stage makeup sometimes for wrestling matches. The shirt falls open at the chest and kinda shows off my hairy pecs…if I wanted to have a big ego about that.

  I’m a little nervous about my pirate voice, so I practice that in the mirror a few times. I realize pretty quickly that it’s not the kids I’m trying to impress. I’m totally showing off for Val.

  As the parents and kids gather around the swimming pool at Dave and Millie’s backyard birthday party, I make my entrance in full costume to the applause of everyone.

  I give instructions to the gang of kids on how to find the lost treasure. A healthy memory bank full of SpongeBob SquarePants episodes helps me conjure up my best pirate voice.

  “Aye, ye scurvy dogs! I be so sure that none of ye will find me treasure. And if ye do, I’ll walk the plank and be buried forever in Davy Jones’ Locker, arrrgh!”

  When the kids scatter with excited screams to begin the hunt, complete with maps that Millie has drawn out for each of them, I saunter over to Val, who’s sitting with my sister at a poolside table. Wearing sunglasses, I can’t tell if she’s ogling me, but I’m more than OK if she is. As I approach, I see the pink in her cheeks and I’m not gonna lie, it strokes my ego pretty good.

  I want to touch her. Kiss her. Just give her some love for sitting there looking like a friggin’ sun goddess and for looking at me like I’m a snack.

  A man’s gruff voice butts in before I can open my mouth to say something to Val.

  “Hey dipshit, how’s bodyguard duty?”

  Martin is here. Because of course he is, Emily is his niece too. He strolls toward us in a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, which is his signature move when he’s trying to impress his wife Lindsey—which is all the time.

  “Hey brother,” I say, taking a step closer to Val.

  “Bodyguard duty?” Millie says. “What’s going on?”

  Val opens her mouth to speak but Martin interrupts, stuffing his hands in his pockets to look extra business casual. “Ongoing investigation, that’s all I can tell you,” he says importantly. Man, if we were twelve years old I’d be giving him an atomic wedgie right now.

  Millie turns to Val. “Honey, does this have anything to do with that thing you were talking about yesterday?”

  Val looks from me to Martin and back to Millie. “I don’t think I’m supposed to say, but yes.”

  It occurs to me that while Martin is here, I can’t touch Val. I can’t brush her hair back or kiss her or do any of the tender things a person likes to do in a relationship. I can’t do the things that might reassure her that last night was not just a horny one-night thing. That it meant something to me. That I’d be here with her, whether or not I was duty bound to watch out for her.

  Millie sees the looks that have been passing between Val and me; I can see it all over her wide eyes while she sips her mimosa. I wish she’d knock it off with the knowing looks before she gives us away to our lunkhead brother. Fortunately, my man Dave saves my ass by strolling up with a pitcher of refills for the ladies.

  “Oh my god, I love you so much,” Millie squeals, smacking Dave on the ass as he pours, ca
using a little dribble over the rim of her glass.

  Dave chuckles. “My wife, the lightweight.”

  Millie sits up straight in mock offense. “Believe me, you won’t be complaining about me being a little bit toasted once this party is over.”

  Oh man.

  “Wow, somebody change the subject please,” breathes Val, staring off in the direction of the pool.

  “Oh!” Millie exclaims, grasping Martin’s arm. “Marty, can you and Lindsey do me a favor and go check on the status of the scavenger hunt? Make sure everyone stays more or less together? I don’t want any kids getting lost,” she says.

  It makes no sense, because she’s already hired a babysitter to herd the children around at the party.

  When Martin and his wife leave to do as she asked, I finally understand the real reason Millie sent them away.

  “If Martin finds out about you two, you know there’s gonna be a problem,” she hisses.

  Dave sets down the mimosa pitcher and perks up. “You two? There’s a ‘you two’ now? And there’s already a problem? That was quick.”

  Val’s eyes are wide and she looks to me to respond. “Yeah, like a giant conflict of interest or something. I’ve thought about it. And I’ll ask you to do me a favor and keep our relationship—mine and Val’s—to yourself, OK?”

  Millie and Dave both agree, but honestly I don’t even care if they do or don’t. Instead I keep my eyes on Val, whose face has softened for the first time since we arrived at the party.

  “Never have any doubt,” I say in a whisper when I lean down toward her ear.

  Her hands grip the ruffles on the front of my shirt and she chides me, “We can’t let Martin know that we’re…”

  “Together?” My eyes send the signal that I want to pick up where we left things last night before we fell asleep wrapped around each other.

  “We have to pretend,” she whispers. “Just until this is over. Until this freak gets caught.”

  Her fingers work over the ruffles and a couple of them brush the soft fuzz on my chest. I let out a low growl, close to her cheek, that only she can hear. “Careful, baby.”

  She sighs against my ear, the side of one finger brushing against my nipple.

  “Fuck,” I grit out.

  “Later,” she says. “Now go inside and get yourself a drink.”

  “I can’t leave you alone, you know that.”

  “This house is surrounded by a security fence and there’s a freaking gate house. Nobody shady is getting in here today, in broad daylight, with a house full of Hanson boys plus Dave.”

  I harrumph. I do kind of want a drink.

  She cocks her head. “I’m just gonna finish my conversation with Millie and I’ll be in to join you, OK.”

  “OK,” I say. Far be it from me to not give her a bit of space to talk to her friends. I’m now in this weird headspace of wanting to be a good boyfriend and doing my job. Pretty soon, something’s going to have to give.

  Inside the walk-out basement of the house, my big brother Jay is tending bar. I order a Manhattan for Valerie and a beer for me. Jay seems distracted, so I follow his gaze across the room. It’s easy to see what’s got him looking so hazy: Jenny, Millie’s best friend.

  “You with me, bro?” I have to repeat his name and resort to calling him by his most reviled nicknames in order to get his attention. “Jay. Jaybird. JayLo!”

  Finally he snaps to attention, annoyance clouding his expression that just a few seconds ago was all wonder and tenderness. “The fuck you want, dipshit?”

  Mom and Millie hate it when we talk to each other like this, but it’s done out of love.

  I repeat my drink order at him, and with a grumble, he fills it. But not without an occasional glance across the room to keep an eye on Jenny, who’s here to help with the party even though she doesn’t have kids of her own. She deserves a medal for hanging out with this crowd. I spot Angela in the corner having a heated discussion on the phone with someone while her husband is off in the other corner, looking bored.

  I jerk my chin in Jenny’s direction. “You know that’s Millie’s best friend, right?”

  “Well done, Einstein. You get a gold star for your report card.”

  “Asshole. I just meant if you have any thoughts about hooking up with Jenny, you’d better be careful. Dave is just as protective of her as he is of Millie. And you know our guy Dave is a bit of a madman when he senses a threat.”

  Jay plonks down my beer hard enough that foam spills out the top. He glares and hands me a rag to clean it while he sets to work on Val’s drink. “Who says anything about hooking up?”

  I take a step back and observe my brother. He’s pissed. Why is he so pissed?

  “It’s just that, I don’t know, you’ve never been in a serious relationship before so I just assumed—”

  One of Jay’s massive black eyebrows rises as he stirs the mixture carefully. “You can take your half-baked assumptions and shove them up your—”

  “Hey, are you making Manhattans? Yes, please!”

  Jay looks up and smiles, changing his tone on a dime. I snap my head to my right and see that it’s Val. And she’s eyeing the glass in Jay’s hand like it’s the holy grail.

  “My alcoholic brother here ordered it for himself along with his beer, but I’m going to give it to you,” Jay says with a smirk, handing the glass over.

  Val looks at me shyly. She’s feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry, is this yours?”

  I put up my hands. “No. It’s yours. I’m not an alcoholic, I swear. Not that I have anything against alcoholics. I just…”

  I can hear Jay snickering. I have a mind to reach over the bar and pop him, but I do not. I am a hotheaded dude, but I’m not going to fuck this up.

  “I ordered it for you. It’s yours anyway,” I say.

  Her surprised smile makes my heart happy. “How did you know I like these?” she asks, taking a sip and making a yum noise in her throat that evokes all manner of filthy images in my head. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve heard all morning and conjures up images of what we did together last night.

  I take a leap. I don’t give a shit if Jay hears this. “I made a mental note of it when I heard you say it on the podcast.”

  Val blinks her long, dark eyelashes at me. “For real?”

  “For real,” I confirm. Fuck playing games. This woman is so beautiful it hurts. If she punches my dick into the dirt and leaves me for dead, I will say thank you, and I’ll move on with my life as a happy man just for having had the chance to kiss her and hold her close.

  “What else did you make a note of?”

  I lift one shoulder shyly. “That you like jazz and the movie Moonstruck. And other stuff. Does that scare you or does that get your attention?”

  Val’s eyes travel from my eyes down to my chest and back up to my neck. For some reason she’s eyeballing my Adam’s apple.

  “Well,” she says, reaching out again. Good lord, this woman cannot leave the ruffles alone. Although, I don’t really want her to. “Pretty tough to scare me when you’re wearing that dashing outfit. Not to mention you paddling that pirate ship floaty across the pool to announce the pirate treasure scavenger hunt, in full pirate lingo.”

  I nod, blushing deeply, having almost forgotten I still have on this ridiculous shirt.

  Dammit. Martin and Lindsey are back with the horde of kids, one of them leading the pack carrying the found pirate treasure.

  “Time to get back into character,” I mutter.

  Val’s elegant glass clinks with my beer bottle. She walks away to mingle with the other moms and I watch her go. Damn if that sway doesn’t send me to cloud nine. Or cloud seventeen.

  “Real smooth,” Jay mutters, puttering around the bar.

  “Listen,” I say, leaning against the counter, not taking my eyes off Val for a second. She’s talking to her friends but keeps glancing shyly around to keep her eye on me, and I like it a lot. “Sooner or later you gotta stop playing t
he game.”

  Jay grumbles, “You make it sound like I’m a playboy or something.”

  “You’re not exactly the guy everyone thinks of as settling down, so this feels a little new.”

  Jay replies, “Maybe I wasn’t ready to settle down and now I am.”

  I take an overdramatic step back and clutch my chest like I might drop dead of shock.

  “Dick,” he says. “I don’t know why you’re surprised. I’ve kinda been into her since Millie met her.”

  “We were teenagers when they met! Then why have you never asked her out before?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been waiting for the right moment. I never felt like I was good enough for her. Lots of reasons—how long you got?”

  “Wow, man, you really like her,” I say.

  “So what if I do?”

  “What the fuck are you so mad about?”

  “I’m the oldest in the family. Millie’s the youngest, and she and Marty already showed me up by being the first two to get married.”

  My jaw is hanging open. I’ve never seen him like this. “I can’t believe you care about the order of matrimony in our family.” Jay grits his teeth and ripples his jaw at me. I know when he does that it’s time for me to clear out.

  He points one finger at me. “You are not allowed to get married before me.”

  I shake my head in astonishment, although it makes sense. My brothers and I have always been super competitive. I just didn’t realize how serious it could get until now.

  Entertaining a bunch of kids with my nonsense pirate talk suddenly feels like it makes much more sense than this conversation. Hell hath no fury like a lovesick member of the Hanson family.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Val

  I bite my lip and hit send.

  I can’t believe I just did that, but it’s too late to take it back.

  I’m standing across the room from Max, watching him talk to his brother, and I just had this urge to send him a text.