Marc shoved his chair back and followed his older brother out of the house. “Dude, gross, right?” Marc asked.
“It can’t be any worse than finding you naked spread eagle on your bed, with nipple rings and handcuffs. Seriously. Don’t you know to tape a cuff key to your headboard?”
Marc slowed, letting Max’s words sink he while his brother rushed away with long strides. “Wait! Is that what you do?” Marc ran to catch up.
“I’m not discussing my sex life with you.”
“But your older, you should be mentoring me.” Marc was only half joking but Max apparently didn’t see it as such.
“Get the fuck out of here. Mentor you.” Max shook his head. “I don’t even want to know what you and Leah are doing. I have to work with her. I don’t want to picture the two of you together every time I see her.”
Marc shadowed his brother out to the barn and once inside, Max shut the sliding door. He went to a crudely made bench that sat under one of the windows to a turned over an upside down five-gallon bucket and grabbed the bottle of whiskey that had been hidden underneath it.
“What the hell?”
“It’s Pop’s secret stash,” Max answered. “Don’t tell Mom.”
Marc zipped his lips shut with his fingers as Max cracked open the top and took a swig directly from the bottle.
“Ah. That will put hair on your chest.”
Max passed the bottle to Marc. He swallowed a mouthful, then coughed as the fumes flowed into his lungs. He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth, took another nip, and handed it back to Max. They moved to a stack of loose straw and both settled into it, passing the bottle back and forth in silence.
After a while, when they were both feeling a bit looser, Max looked up at the ceiling and said, “Amanda and I had sex in this pile once. We were having a bit of a disagreement.”
“Nothing new.”
Max’s gaze lost focus and he took another sip from the bottle. “I wanted her so much, but we were both being so pig-headed.”
That syndrome ran in the family. “Do we get that from Pop or Ma?”
“Both, I think.”
“But they’re still happily married.”
“Yeah.”
“And apparently, still sexually active.”
His brother grimaced. “C’mon. I’m trying to forget that conversation.”
“But it’s still awesome to think we may be virile when we’re his age.”
Max tilted his head in agreement.
“It’s weird. It’s like Pop’s protective of her.”
Max shook his head, confused. “Who?”
“Leah.”
“Well, sure. He never had a little girl.” Max rolled his eyes. “And not for trying either. Someone to protect and spoil. Not like us three knuckleheads, as Mom would put it.”
“She’s not a little girl.”
“You’d know.”
“He never acted like that with your wife.”
Max wore a little secret smile. “That’s because Amanda is a spitfire.”
“And Leah isn’t?”
“Again, you would know. But Leah is more subdued, I think. She has a filter. Unlike Amanda.”
She certainly wasn’t subdued in bed. But he’d keep that to himself. “By the way, Pop was rubbing her feet.”
Max lifted his eyebrows, confused once again for a second. “Whose?”
“Leah’s.”
“So?”
“So how would you like it if he rubbed Amanda’s feet?”
Max snorted. “More power to him. Then I wouldn’t have to do it.”
Marc pinched the bridge of his nose. Was he wrong to expect some brotherly support?
“Look, you know Pop’s a shameless flirt. But he’s harmless. Mom knows that and could care less. If she’s not worried, neither should you.”
“But he’s touching my—” Marc snapped his jaw shut.
Max raised both hands, one still gripping the bottle. “Whoa. Whoa. No. Stop right there. Your woman? I thought you guys cooled it.”
“Yeah, until we’re not riding together any more. We have a plan.”
“Right. I remember making deals and pacts with Amanda. Let me tell you, they didn’t work. Somehow we always ended up naked together.”
“We’ve got four weeks to go.”
“If I sign off on her paperwork then. She has to be ready.”
“She’ll be ready.”
“So, are you rethinking the whole women in policing thing?”
Marc pursed his lips. “I don’t know.”
“What does she have to do? Save your life to prove she’ll make a good cop?”
“Maybe.”
Max made a sharp noise. “And why are you two being celibate for all that long?”
“You said—”
Max cut him off. “I know what I said, bonehead! Don’t fuck during your shift, or on the department’s property, and don’t use the department’s issued equipment for your…whatever. But you can do whatever on your own time. Just don’t let it affect your work or hers.”
Marc sighed. “We just figured it would be easier—”
“Says the man with blue balls.” Max chuckled.
Marc wasn’t finding it so funny. “I’m currently in an intimate relationship with my palm.”
“You probably have blisters.”
Marc smirked. “Wanna see?”
“Fuck no.”
Leah watched Amanda putt around the canine bakery. Both of them had headed to the little building next to the barn after the guys disappeared. Teddy and Ron, with the help of Greg, were cleaning up and doing the dishes, since the women prepared the meal. The unspoken “I cook, you clean up” rule.
So Amanda had suggested they disappear too for a little “girl talk.” She explained how the business was growing and she was selling her organic, grain-free dog biscuits online and occasionally locally. She had recruited the people who attended the adult day care center in town to help with packaging. It kept them busy and she paid them for the service. And sometimes she showed up and threw them a pizza party, or an ice cream social to show her gratitude.
They couldn’t live off the income but it kept her busy and from being bored. Amanda had landed in Manning Grove from Miami and had been shell-shocked with the laid-back attitude and lack of culture here. So the bakery kept her sane and her marriage solid.
The woman had gumption, that was for sure.
As Amanda showed her all of the professional grade baking equipment that her and Max had invested in, Leah didn’t want to admit she had already been in the bakery with Marc. Though it had been dark that time.
“If you need something to do in your spare time, you are welcome to come help me out. I could always use an extra pair of hands. Greg helps to an extent, but I spend more time cleaning up after him than anything. At least Chaos eats anything that drops to the floor.” Amanda took what looked like a tan cookie out of a ceramic jar on the counter. “Wanna try one?”
Leah wrinkled her nose.
“I use food grade ingredients.”
“I’ll pass, but thanks.”
Amanda shrugged and tossed the biscuit back into the container. She opened an overhead cabinet, pulling out two red plastic cups, and from the built-in cooler, a bottle of red wine. She held it up. “More your speed?”
“Absolutely.”
As Amanda unscrewed the metal top, she said, “It’s top notch shit.” And then laughed. After she poured two healthy portions into the plastic cups and after handing Leah one, they clinked “glasses.”
“So…” Amanda leaned back against the counter and regarded Leah carefully. Marc’s sister-in-law was about to go somewhere where Leah didn’t want to go, so she guzzled a good amount of the wine to prepare herself. Hell, why not? She didn’t have to drive.
“You want the dirt on Marc and me.”
“Well, speaking of dirt…there was a used condom in my garbage pail. It was hard to miss since it was tossed
right on top. All looky-here-like.”
Heat crept into Leah’s cheeks. She took another gulp of the sweet wine. “Sorry.”
Amanda shrugged. “I don’t mind you using the bakery to knock boots, but just bury the evidence, please.” She hopped up to sit on the counter. “Hey, when me and Max first hooked up, we did it in some interesting places. To avoid Greg, we sometimes still do. You weren’t the first to christen this building.” She shrugged and laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Ron and Mary Ann got down in here, either.” She took a big swallow, the shine of the wine lingering on her lips.
Leah didn’t want to think of her surrogate parents getting down and dirty, not just here, but anywhere.
Amanda continued, “Fucking and food, that’s the way to a man’s heart. And you’re a good cook. So you got that going for you.”
“Hold on. I’m not trying to find the way to anyone’s heart.”
Amanda ignored her, almost as if she knew Leah better than Leah did. Well, she did have experience with a Bryson. “And the sex part must be working, from the evidence left behind in my trash can. There has to be something between you, right?”
“Work.”
Amanda scoffed. “Bullshit.”
“Okay, he’s hot.” And that was putting it mildly. Scorching more like it.
“That he is.”
“But he’s got that whole caveman attitude about women.” Which was the one annoying—one she almost couldn’t live with—downfall of the man.
“And the ol’ women shouldn’t be cops crap. I get it.” Amanda continued talking. “Hey, the Bryson men seem arrogant and overbearing on the outside but really, it only takes the right woman to turn them into putty. If you’re the right one, he will eat right out of your palm. And if he loves you, his love will be fierce and true. They do not do anything half-assed.” She raised a finger in the air. “But only a special woman can bring them to their knees.”
“Again, I’m not trying to bring Marc to his knees.”
“That’s not what I heard when Max came back from rescuing Marc a few weeks ago.”
Okay, she might have been in that instance. “We were just… I was just…”
Amanda held up a hand. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I get it. It sounded freaking hot. The shit we would do if Greg didn’t live with us.” Her voice drifted off as well as her gaze. “Damn.” She focused again, grabbed the bottle of wine, and poured the remainder between the two cups.
Leah shook her head with amusement. Amanda raised her cup and tapped it against hers. She could definitely drink to that.
“So is it more than just sex?”
“It’s not even ‘just sex’ right now. We took a break until my training is over.”
“Why the fuck would you do that? Are you crazy?”
Apparently so. The no sex rule had been driving her up the wall. It made her want him more than ever. It was hard sitting only inches away from him in the car and not touch him. Her imagination had gone haywire and her vibrator killed a pack of batteries.
“We were trying to stay professional. This job is important to me.”
“Well, no shit. But Max isn’t going to fire you. At least he’d better not, or he will get one of my pointy high-heeled boots up his ass and he’ll be forced to sleep on his parent’s couch for a while.”
Leah chuckled. If only it was that simple.
“Why would you do that to yourself? And, by the way, it doesn’t work. Take my word for it.”
“You tried to stay away from Max?”
Amanda nodded. “Yeah. And look where that got me.” She held up her left hand and wiggled her ring finger. “With a ball and chain. Now all I have to do is become pregnant and I’ve lost myself.”
“Nonsense. Your surrounded by loving family, have a responsible—hot, I might add—husband that adores you. And like you said, he’s putty in your hands.”
“Never in a million years did I expect my life would end up like this, so opposite of how it was. But, you know, you’re right. I now have a loving family, a small business, an awesome sex partner, and a dream home to live in. Speaking of which, you should come visit.”
“I would love that.”
“We’ll invite you and Marc for dinner or something.”
Leah hesitated. It might not be good for Marc and her to spend an evening together, especially if drinks were being served. She didn’t want to end up with any cracks in their plan.
Amanda jabbed a finger Leah’s direction as if she’d read her mind. “Don’t be a fool. Go show that man who’s boss, make him beg you for it. Drive him crazy.”
The cell phone in Leah’s back pocket vibrated and she looked to see who was texting. “Speak of the devil.”
“Is he sexting you?” Amanda pushed herself off the counter and tried to peer at Leah’s screen.
Leah tilted the phone toward her. “No. He’s asking if you’ll go over to the barn and drag Max’s drunk ass out of there.”
“Ooo.” Amanda rubbed her hands together and her eyes lit up. “Hopefully not sloppy drunk. I want to be able to take advantage of him tonight. I’ll have Ron and Mary Ann keep Greg overnight. Oh, yes. I love it when a plan comes together. Let’s go.”
Amanda locked up the back door and they stepped into the barn, which was only a few yards away. Both men, looking handsomely relaxed, were sprawled in a large pile of loose straw. Since both wore jeans and T-shirts with their department logo over their right pec, they looked eerily similar. Cookie-cutter features and the same body style. If they weren’t a couple years apart in age, Leah figured they could probably pass for twins.
“That pile looks familiar,” Amanda said.
“It should,” Max responded with a slight slur.
“I guess I’m driving home.” Amanda offered her husband a hand.
Max took it but used his own strength to push himself upright with a grunt. When he steadied himself on his feet, he smacked Amanda’s ass hard. “Does that also bring back some memories?”
Amanda winked and smiled at Leah. “Sure does, big boy. Let’s go home. I have obscenely wicked plans for you.”
Her husband smiled. “These two probably shouldn’t be left alone. They might fuck up their plan.”
Leah shot Marc a look. Guess the empty bottle of whiskey lying next to him in the straw had given him loose lips. He just shrugged innocently, his eyes wide.
Innocent, my ass.
“Okay, we’re out. Dinner. Our house. Soon,” Amanda called out as she led her husband out of the barn.
Leah turned her attention back to the man settled in the loose straw. “Comfy?”
He gave her a sexy smile and patted the straw next to him. “Join me.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? We’ve both been drinking. Though I think I’m way more sober than you.”
“Just slightly.”
“Just slightly what? Just slightly a bad idea or you’re just slightly more intoxicated?”
“Both. C’mere. Please.” He held out his hand.
Leah regarded his outstretched hand, the long, strong fingers, the broad palm. Memory of what those hands could do to her made her body pulse. Talk about putty. She would be the one turning into a melted pile of goo.
“What about our plan?” She tried to find a reason to resist. But it was hard. And from what she could see, so was he.
“I won’t tell.” He curled his index finger at her, beckoning.
Leah shook her head. “That’s not the point.”
“It’ll be one little slip up. We’ll go back to ignoring each other tomorrow.”
Ignore each other. Sure. “Amanda thinks we’re crazy to even try.”
“So does Max.” Marc shook his head slowly. “Leah, I… Yes, we need to try to control ourselves during working hours, but it’s difficult. Near impossible. We just need a little reprieve so we can power through the next four weeks.”
Leah wanted to laugh at the sound of his desperation. His lame excuse. Bu
t she couldn’t because she was just as desperate as he was and his suggestion had merit. Or, at least, she wanted to believe it did. And it was sorely tempting. There was nothing she’d rather do than have roll in the hay with him. Or straw, to be more exact. But in the back of her mind, she knew it may be a bad idea.
Her body told her something different, though.
She moved toward him, pulling off her shirt. She threw it at him and he caught it, bringing it up to his nose to inhale her scent.
“That’s it, babe.” His voice was rough, full of promise.
Every step she took, she lost a piece of clothing. Her bra. Her slip-on sneakers, her jeans, the slip of cloth that were her panties. Until she stood between his feet naked as the day she was born.
At that moment, she could care less if anyone walked in and saw her like this. Saw them.
She didn’t care about anything but the man who was prone before her. His eyes were hooded, his mouth parted, his chest rising with each deep breath. His gaze roamed every inch of her, making her feel appreciated. Wanted. Sexy.
She drew her hair forward, so only her nipples were exposed through the thick strands. Brushing a finger over each one, she kept direct eye contact with him and gave him a slow smile.
“Hot fucking damn.”
“You’re offending me,” she said with a scowl.
Confusion crossed his face. “How?”
“You’re wearing too many clothes.” She stuck her tongue out at him and laughed.
With a chuckle, he ripped his T-shirt over his head, then sat up to unlace his boots, tugging them off, along with his socks. Tossing them aside, his heavy boots landing hard on the concrete floor of the barn. He unsnapped the top button of his jeans and then laid back in the straw.
Leah wanted to remember that sight forever. He could be Mr. January in a calendar of hot, sexy cops. Or farmers, since he was in a barn. He looked edible laying there, framed by the butter-colored straw.
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Help me with my jeans.”
Her core pulsed intensely, sending little shockwaves spiraling through her body. Her breathing shallowed as she studied every hard line of his muscular torso.
Brothers in Blue: Marc Page 15