Page 7

I bit back a curse. Damn it, Max! “Now, Ethel, you know I can’t sit out here in a lawn chair with a shotgun just waiting for trespassers.”

“Last police chief did.”

“He was fired.”

She sniffed and looked away, crossing her arms. “Well, be quick about it, Jason. I’m plucking a bird out back.”

I didn’t ask.

I wasn’t afraid of her answer. I was terrified she’d actually show me, and I’d never make it back to my SUV. They’d discover my battered body years later, a look of horror on my young face.

“Right.” Slowly, I inched farther onto her property. Sweat continued to pour down my neck, soaking my shirt and making me curse the day police uniforms had been made of such thick cotton.

“Who’s Max?” she asked, once my hands grazed the sign and pulled it up from its spot right in front of her porch.

I looked at the sign, slowly backed away, and answered, “He’s you, only male and slightly younger.”

“Sounds delightful!”

“You have no idea.” I whistled low in my throat as I clutched the sign to my side and monitored her for any sudden movements. She may look slow, but the woman used to run track, so she knew how to run, and sadly, for those she chased, she rarely gave up.

“Made some tea.” She sniffed, running her finger underneath her nose as if that was supposed to make me want tea and not throw up over the fact that she was currently examining something between her fingers and lifting it to her lips.

“Nope.” I held back a gag. “I’m allergic.”

“To tea?” she asked, still holding her treasure between her fingers. Don’t do it, woman. Don’t do it!

It happened in slow motion, the moment where her fingers came into contact with her mouth and that wicked tongue slipped out and… licked.

Damn those Cheerios I’d eaten this morning!

Gagging again, I looked away. I had to.

“You sure, Jason?”

“Positive.” I barked out a cough, my stomach heaving almost as much as my balls at the seductive glance she was giving me. Backing up, my ass nearly collided with the SUV.

Ethel put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. “No more signs, Jason, or I ain’t voting for you come next election!”

“Not running for mayor yet,” I said under my breath.

“What was that?”

“I think the lawn is wet!” I chuckled loudly. “All righty then, see ya, Ethel. A pleasure, as always.”

“Bite me,” she spat. She legitimately spat onto the front porch then turned around and barreled back into the hole she’d crawled out of.

My fingers slipped on the ignition, twice, before I finally turned the key, started the SUV, then peeled out from her driveway as if zombies were chasing me.

I drove in silence as my heartbeat slowly returned to normal, thank God. I was going to kill Max — then kill him again, just to make sure he was dead.

But first, I needed whiskey.

Thankfully, my shift was done, and I could easily make my way over to the restaurant, sit at the bar, and down a few shots before my dinner date.

The woman may have to be my DD with as much shaking as I was doing in that damn SUV. How did Max even know of Ethel? It’s not like I’d talked about my long-time nemesis around the dinner table.

Maybe it had been Milo or Colt who’d blabbed about how Ethel had hated me since I was born? She was the nurse who’d delivered me, and, shit you not, told my parents that I was going to be a tyrant because I’d peed on her.

I was three minutes old, lady. Give me a break! Babies pee!

Correction: Not Max. Max’s first sentence was probably, “And they shall name me Max, and I shall rule the world.”

“Aghhh!” I hit my steering wheel and then pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.