Colorado Mountain series by Kristen Ashley

Even so, I answered, “More than likely, yes.”

“You gonna practice?” Mick went on.

“Of course,” I replied.

“Great,” Mick muttered, sounding aggrieved and I understood so I smiled.

“Don’t worry, Mick, if it isn’t a member of Max’s family or a friend, I’m a pu**ycat,” I assured him.

“Why don’t I believe you?” Mick queried.

“Don’t, she’s on one, she’s a tiger,” Max put in. He had pushed from the wall and had his hand on Linda’s arm, helping her from her seat.

“Yeah,” Mick mumbled.

I headed toward the door. “By the way, it’d be nice, anyone asks, you tell them Kami was assisting with the investigation and you might want to mention how cooperative she was.”

Mick looked at me, clearly shocked. “Now you’re askin’ a favor?”

“I did you one, I’m calling my marker. Anyway, it might be good, me moving to town and putting out a shingle, you start collecting them,” I advised as I grabbed my purse and Mick’s eyes again went to Max.

And again he was barking up the wrong tree. Max had opened the door for his mother and sister and he burst into laughter when he caught Mick’s eyes. Then he slung an arm around my shoulders and guided me out the door.

As we neared the outer door, not taking his arm from around me, Max leaned down to put his mouth to my ear.

“Just in case I didn’t mention it, Duchess, not so sure about the truth comin’ out, what I am sure of is that I can trust you to take care of my sister.” I pulled my head back as I twisted my neck to look at him but I had no chance to speak because he stopped me and he finished with, “Thank you, baby.”

Then again before I could respond, he kissed me deep, with some tongue action but, although deep, the kiss was not long.

“Max!” Kami snapped when his head came up. “I need a drink.”

I looked in their direction to see Linda’s eyes were on me. “I think pasta bake is out. Can I treat you and your folks to a buffalo burger at The Mark?”

I glanced at Max then back to Linda.

Then I said, “They’d love that.”

* * * * *

I sat at on a stool at a high, round table at The Dog with a drunken Mom, Linda, Kami, Arlene and Jenna. Becca was our waitress.

At Arlene’s edict with Mom and Linda backing her up, Max had been quarantined across the room in what had been decreed (again, by Arlene) as the Guys’ Night Out Section of The Dog. He was playing pool with Brody and Steve and he was not to approach under threat of Arlene’s wrath.

Regardless of my roller coaster day and my current enforced separation from Max, seeing as I, too, was slightly inebriated; I’d been adventurous at The Mark, demanded to see a menu and ordered the chicken fried steak which was made with an actual steak and therefore was amazing; I followed that with a Mile Hi Mud Pie which was five layers of chocolate cake, separated by dreamy chocolate mousse and covered with chocolate ganache; Becca had reported that not only had Mindy seen the rape center’s counselor yesterday, she’d gone down there to visit her again that day, asking Bitsy to go with her (and Bitsy did, even with the funeral, she’d carved out time); and I was finding out that Kami was a lot more fun when she was fed a buffalo burger and was also drunk, therefore, I was feeling quite happy.

“You. Cannot. Be. Serious!” Arlene shouted and I looked at her, having been thinking about my evening, I hadn’t been paying attention and I didn’t know what she was shouting about. Then again Arlene, Mom and Linda had been shouting everything they said for about half an hour, mostly while Kami, Jenna and I giggled, unable to get a word in edgewise, so it wasn’t the first time I lost track.

“I. Am. Not!” Mom shouted back and I felt something, something warm and sweet and instinctively I looked to the pool tables and saw Max, Brody and Steve all looking at us.

Seeing Max looking so handsome standing across the room from me, holding a pool cue, its handle to the ground, I had an overwhelming urge and I didn’t try to fight it.

“Be back,” I muttered to Linda who was sitting beside me, I slipped off my stool and weaved my way through the bar to Max.

When I got to him, I wrapped both my arms around his middle, pressed my front to his side and tipped my head back to look at him as his arm slid around my shoulders.

“Hi,” I said softly.

He grinned down at me and remarked, “Babe, you’re breaking the invisible boundary between girls’ night out and guys’ night out.”

“I think Mom, Arlene and Linda are beyond enforcing the rules.”

I looked across the room to see Mom hanging by her fingers from the table, her torso and head thrown back, laughing. Arlene was slapping the table with the palm of her hand, laughing. Linda was leaned all the way over, her forehead to the table, laughing. And Kami and Jenna were staring at each other, also laughing.

I looked back at Max and pointed out the obvious, “I don’t think they even know I’m gone.”

Max glanced at the girls then his eyes came to me. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“You play pool?” Brody asked, coming up on my side and I looked at him without letting Max go.

“No,” I answered.

“Wanna learn?” Brody enquired on a smile.

“I’m beyond retaining new skills,” I told him and Max’s arm around my shoulders gave me a squeeze so I looked back to him.

“You smashed?”

“No,” and it wasn’t a lie therefore I explained while pressing closer, “just having a good night.”

“You’re up, Brody,” Steve called then his eyes came to me. “Since the seal’s been broken, gonna check on Nellie, make certain she doesn’t fall off her stool.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” I advised and heard Max chuckle as I saw Steve smile and move away.

“You wanna get us another round?” Brody suggested, eyeing the pool table to line up his next shot.

“Yeah,” Max answered and then moved.

I was forced to drop an arm to move with him and we walked with our arms around each other to the heaving bar. Max pushed in, taking me with him then lifted his chin to the bartender and it was then I saw Harry sitting alone at the opposite end of the bar looking more than a little unhappy and staring into an amber beverage that appeared to have been poured neat.

“Harry drinks bourbon when he’s nursin’ a bad mood,” Max muttered, likely reading my expression.