BROTHERS IN BLUE: MAX
Brothers in Blue trilogy, book #1
Jeanne St. James
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance
Loose Id, LLC
Chapter One
For forty-five minutes the little red rental sat in the
parking lot. Amanda Barber remained frozen in the driver’s seat. She stared
through the windshield at the brick building in front of her. The car’s engine
was off, the keys still hanging in the ignition. It wouldn’t take much for her
to reach out, turn them, and go back the way she had come.
She read the sign on the building one more time as if
reading it would put off the inevitable. HOWELL’S ADULT DAY CARE.
It was getting dark; she couldn’t sit there anymore. She had
promised her stepmother’s attorney that she would stick around for a couple
weeks. Just a couple of weeks. Fourteen days. Half a month.
She had to stop being a wimp.
Okay, no more hesitation. She grabbed the keys and tossed
them into her purse. She had to get this over with. She left the car and went
into the building before she could change her mind.
As the door closed behind her with a click that sounded deafening to her own ears, Amanda glanced
around. A few older people sat knitting, reading, and talking in small groups.
A television droned in the background. A very elderly gentleman sat in a
wheelchair in front of a large picture window, his head bobbing as he dozed
off.
A woman, just a few years older than her, looked up and
spotted Amanda. A frown creasing her forehead, the woman straightened from
helping the young man who was sitting at a card table. Amanda wasn’t quite sure
what the young man needed help doing. It looked as though he’d been drawing.
The woman leaned over and said something in his ear before approaching Amanda.
“Can I help you?”
“I guess so.”
A puzzled look crossed the woman’s face when Amanda didn’t
continue.
The woman prodded, “Do you need information? Or a tour of
our facility?”
“No.”
The woman squinted in confusion and tilted her head with an
unspoken question. As she opened her mouth, Amanda interrupted her. “I’m here
for Gregory Barber.”
She must have said it loud enough, as the young man at the
table lifted his head from his project and turned toward them. He laughed
loudly and brushed away the hair that fell into his eyes with the back of his
bent wrist.
An O formed on the woman’s lips. “You must be Amanda.”
Amanda frowned. Of course the woman knew who she was. She
bet all of Manning Grove had been waiting for her to show up.
“Yes, I’m here to pick up Greg.”
Amanda bit her lip as the young man rose from the table with
a crooked smile. Next thing she knew he was running toward her, his arms
flailing in the air. Amanda automatically stepped back. She really wanted to
turn and run, but the young man’s arms wrapped around her, squeezing her until
she couldn’t breathe.
The woman grabbed his arms, trying to peel him off. “Greg!
Greg! Let her go.”
Greg rocked Amanda back and forth, pressing his head into
her chest, squeezing her even tighter. She groaned in pain.
“Greg!”
“Donna, is this ’Manda? Is this ’Manda?” His booming voice
vibrated against her chest.
“Greg, you are going to squeeze her to death.”
Greg reluctantly let her go and stepped back, the crooked
smile on his face even larger. A bit of spit sprayed out of his mouth as he
yelled, “My sister ’Manda!”
“Yes, Greg, your sister is here to pick you up.” Donna
turned to Amanda. “As you can guess by now, I’m Donna. I manage this facility.”
Concern crossed her face. “You look pale. Do you want to sit down?”
Amanda shook her head. “No.” She took a deep breath, rubbing
her ribs, checking for damage. She pulled down her skirt and adjusted the
sweater that was askew under her jacket. “No, I’m okay.”
“Are you taking Greg back to his mother’s house?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever dealt with a special needs person before?”
Amanda looked at Greg, who stared back at her with the
biggest grin on his face. “No.” Greg couldn’t stand still; he was fidgeting
about and mumbling to himself.
Donna frowned. “Oh boy.”
Amanda didn’t want to hear that. Oh boy. What did that mean? She knew that she would be in over her
head. But “Oh boy”?
Shit.
“Uh, is he ready to go?”
Donna looked at Greg. “Yes. He’s very excited to meet his
sister, as you can see.” She returned her attention to Amanda and lifted her
eyebrows. “This is for the first time, right?”
Amanda nodded. She didn’t know whether to be ashamed or
afraid. Shame was quickly clouding her feeling of fear. She had no doubt that
Donna knew the answer to that question before she had even asked it. Amanda was
sure that the whole town knew the truth.
Double shit.
Donna grabbed her arm, pity in her eyes. “Look. I’ll give
you my card. If you have any problems or questions, call me. Greg’s a good kid;
he’s easy to work with, easy to please.”
Amanda looked at the person in question. He was no kid. Her
half-brother was twenty-two years old. Twenty-two.
Old enough to drink, vote, join the army.
An adult that only acted like a child.
“Thanks. I might take you up on that offer.”
Donna smiled for the first time. “I’m sure you will. Here is
a brochure on my facility and my card. Greg comes here three days a week. A bus
will pick him up before eight a.m. on Mondays, Wednesday, and Fridays, except
for holidays. A bus will drop him off after six p.m.”
Amanda’s head was spinning. “Okay.”
“Greg, are you ready to go now?”
“Yep. Yep. Yep. I’m ready to go.” Greg hopped on one foot,
then the other, in his excitement. “We’s going now!” He ran up to Amanda again
and held out his twisted hand.
Amanda reached out and grabbed it. His huge grin was
irresistible. She gave him a weak smile back. “Ready, Bud?”
“Who’s Bud?”
Amanda looked at her brother. He might be only a
half-brother, but he was still blood. He was family. Amanda relaxed her stiff
muscles a bit and gave his hand a squeeze. “You are, Bud. You are going to be
my new best bud.”
“Oh! Oh! Donna, I’m Bud! I’m a Bud!” Greg started to pull
her toward the door.
“Oh wait, Ms. Barber!” Amanda’s head turned toward Donna as
she was being tugged out through the entranceway. “Don’t forget Chaos.”
“What?” She grabbed the doorjamb to keep Greg from dragging
her out the door and bouncing her over the pavement in his enthusiasm.
“Chaos,” she repeated as if that clarified everything.
Donna went to the back door and held it open. A
black-and-white border collie bounded through the door and circled them,
barking, just as out of control as Greg.
Chaos.
How appropriate.
* * * *
Keys jingled and hinges squeaked as Amanda opened the front
door of her new home.
New temporary home, she reminded herself.
Due to the long flight followed by the boring, long drive to
this in-the-middle-of-nowhere town, she was exhausted. She needed to get a good
night’s sleep so she could think clearly in the morning.
She glanced at her watch. Seven.
Neither Greg nor she had had dinner yet, and here she was,
thinking about going to bed. Like an old maid. In Miami the nightlife hadn’t
even begun yet.
Chaos brushed past her. The dog probably needed to be fed
too.
“Greg, do you know how to feed Chaos?”
When there was no answer, Amanda turned to look at him. He
was still standing near the car. He had been suspiciously calm and quiet as
they drove into the neighborhood and up to the house. The excited “boy” was
gone.
“Greg?”
“Is Mama in there?”
Even in the dark and him being so far away from her, the
sadness and confusion was clearly recognizable on his face. But his question
made the hairs on the back of her neck rise.
“No, Greg, your mama is gone. Come on. I need to make you
some dinner.”
“Mama makes good food.”
Amanda sighed. She didn’t want to deal with this. He wasn’t
her responsibility. She had never even met her brother before today. She knew
he existed, but they’d lived in different worlds. Her world had never included
her father, her stepmother, or her half-brother. Amanda’s mother Anne had made
sure of that.
“Hey, Bud, I might not be the best cook. In fact, I’m
probably one of the worst. But I can sure make a bowl of soup and a mean
grilled cheese sandwich.”
His new nickname seemed to perk him up a bit. He reluctantly
followed behind her into the house.
Amanda ran her hand along the wall, since the house was
pitch-dark, looking for a light switch. Her fingers located one, and she
flipped the lights on. The house was cute. And small. Everything seemed to have
a place, and it was really neat. And despite the fact that her stepmother
Dolores had died over a week ago, the house seemed relatively clean.
The living room to her right was comfortable looking with a
big, soft couch and a few beautifully carved, old, but heavy wood tables.
Antiques, probably. Most of the decorations on the wall were framed photos. She
would look closer at them later. After she got some sleep.
One thing Amanda quickly noticed was that there was nothing
delicate. No pottery or glass or even small knickknacks. Amanda could imagine
why when she heard a crash. She rushed back toward the rear of the house.
The large kitchen was modern with all updated stainless
steel appliances and gorgeous granite countertops. A copper pot rack hung over
an island, which was surrounded by dark wooden stools.
And in the center of that beautiful kitchen was Greg with a
sheepish look on his face. “Sorry.”
He had dropped Chaos’s metal bowl, but the dog didn’t care.
As fast as he could eat, the dog vacuumed up every last kibble wherever they
had rolled.
“It’s okay, Bud. Now let’s find something for you to eat.”
After a few minutes of searching cabinets, she put together
a quick dinner for Greg, and as he ate, she explored the house some more. Even
though the house was small, like she first thought, it was comfy. It was a two
story with three bedrooms and two bathrooms.
The kitchen had to be one of the biggest rooms in the house.
The backyard was long and narrow, adequately fenced for the dog. The part
Amanda loved the most was the sunroom that appeared to have been recently added
to the deck in the back.
Amanda returned to the kitchen to check on Greg. Maybe she
shouldn’t have left him for so long. Or at least should have given him a
napkin. As she helped him wipe the tomato soup off his clothes, she quizzed
him, trying to find out what he could do and not do.
Around ten p.m., after Greg watched, according to him, one
of his “favorite” programs, she went up with him to his room.
“I see you’re a NASCAR fan, Greg.”
“Love NASCAR. Love racing! I’m gonna be a race car driver.”
“Let me guess. Tony Stewart is your favorite driver.”
Greg squealed excitedly. “How’d you know?”
Amanda looked around the bedroom, which was full of the
number-fourteen posters, model cars, and memorabilia. She pulled down the
Stewart bedspread. Hmm, how did she know?
“Can you take it from here? Can you get ready for bed?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, night, Greg.”
“’Manda?”
“Yes?”
“Can I get a hug?”
“You bet, Bud.” His hug wasn’t so bone crushing this time.
“Night, Buddy. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night, ‘Manda.”
Amanda headed back downstairs. She went directly to the
white envelope that the lawyer had given her, where she had left it on the
kitchen counter earlier. She grabbed it and went into the sunroom. She sank
with a tired groan into the plush love seat and ripped it open. Chaos ran in
and jumped up, curling next to her. Amanda smoothed a hand down his silky back.
She unfolded the letter and began to read.
Dear Amanda,
I know we never met,
and I regret that. Nothing can change that now. First thing I want you to know
is that your father loved you, no matter what you thought. He made a good life
for us, and for that I’m grateful. I loved him very much.
I know that this must
be a big shock for you, meeting your brother for the first time. Gregory is a
good boy. I hope you’ll see that for yourself.
It’s been tough for
Greg after your father died from that heart attack two years ago. Not to
mention me. I know it’s going to be even tougher for Greg after I go. Greg has
no idea that I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I don’t think he’d understand
it anyway.
If you’re reading
this, then Greg has lost both of his parents. I hope you find it in your heart
to help him and love him. I know he’s only your half-brother, but he’s still
your brother. You’re all he has.
Please look deep
within yourself to open your heart to him. It’s not an easy job. Gregory can
take care of himself somewhat, but he needs a lot of guidance. I was trying to
get him to be more independent, but he will never be able to live on his own.
He really needs you. I don’t want him to end up in a home, alone.
The house is yours
now, along with a trust that your father and I had set up in which you will
receive monthly income to help take care of Gregory. It should be enough that
if you stay in Manning Grove, you should be able to not work and be there for
Greg when he needs you. If you take him back to Miami (I hope you won’t), it
probably won’t last long at all.
This is a great town
and the people are friendly and they know Gregory. I know this might not
convince you, but I don’t think Gregory would be happy in a big city.
I’m babbling now.
Amanda read through a “grocery list” of what tasks Greg could
do on his own and what he needed help with. Amanda crushed the letter in her
hand and threw it across the room. It bounced off a lamp and landed in the
middle of the floor.
Chaos leaped off the chair and retrieved the “ball” before
ceremoniously dropping it back in her lap. She glared at him and the crumpled,
damp letter, trying not to scream. Struggling not to cry.
She didn’t want to do this. She couldn’t do this. This woman
had no right to ask her. She never asked for a brother. Never cared that she
was an only child. Her mother had spoiled her. Not because she loved Amanda,
but because she wanted to control her and, when necessary, keep Amanda out of
her hair.
Chaos nudged her hand, waiting for her to throw the “ball”
again.
Staring at the black-and-white dog, she realized that she
was expected to be responsible. Her—Amanda
Barber! She who had never even owned a pet. Not even a hamster. Now she was
actually responsible for another human being. It was too much.
She’d let Greg down.
Her head dropped into her hands, and she lost it. Sobs
racked her body until her stomach ached, her nose was stuffy and swollen, and
her eyes puffy. She sniffled loudly. Chaos sat at her feet, ears perked, and
tilted his head up at her with a silent inquiry.
She was scared.
And alone.
Not even her mother could—or would—help.
The thought strengthened her. She didn’t need her mother.
Her mother was angry with her. She had said that Amanda would never be able to
do it. That she was incapable.
Amanda would show her. She would be better than her mother.
Greg was her blood. Her family. She would be caring, warm, and loving.
At least she could try.
Chaos, tired of waiting, jumped back up beside her. Amanda’s
hand stroked his head. She was determined to prove her mother wrong.
Blurb:
Big city party-girl Amanda Barber has been spoiled most of her life. But life for Amanda suddenly becomes a major challenge: adapting to small town life, dealing with her handicapped brother and constantly butting heads with a frustrating local cop.
As a police officer and former Marine, “responsibility” is Max Bryson’s middle name. Never having been in a serious relationship, he has no plans for being in one in the near future. He likes being his own man. And even if he were interested in a serious relationship, he certainly wouldn’t choose it to be with someone so immature and irresponsible as Amanda. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get sexy Amanda out of his head or his heart. Watching her mature in front of his eyes, his protectiveness towards her only strengthens.
Bossy and possessive aren’t the only words Amanda uses to describe this frustrating cop. She can’t deny just looking at the man makes her tremble. But she’s done with having anyone control her and this man isn’t going to be any different. Or is he?
JEANNE ST. JAMES is an erotic
romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two). She was only 13 started
writing when she started writing since it gave her an escape from teenage
angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine.
Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up,
was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She
writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages.
She has a few new releases coming up
in 2016 and 2017. So keep an eye on her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for
her newsletter.
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