Read Stand Off Page 6


  “Leave her alone,” Grace said. “Come on, Casey. I’ll teach you how to play pool.”

  Casey followed her gratefully. Grace showed her how to play, and she studiously avoided Max’s eyes as she tried to hit the balls the way Grace was. The felt on the table was becoming gouged from her attempts.

  “It’s your turn.” Grace tried to sound encouraging, but Casey knew she was terrible.

  She leaned over the pool table, lining the pool stick up with the ball she wanted to hit.

  “Here, let me show you,” Max said from behind her. His hand slid down her arm, moving the pool stick a few inches, showing her how to hold it.

  Casey could feel his breath against her ear as he told her how to make the shot. She shivered at the closeness of his body as he leaned over her. The ball sank into the corner pocket.

  “I did it!’ Casey yelled, looking over her shoulder at him.

  “You were holding the pool cue wrong,” he told her, straightening up and taking a step back.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” he said, moving away.

  Casey frowned at his abrupt departure.

  Once she turned back to Grace, they finished the game, which she lost dismally.

  “You’ll get better.”

  “No, I won’t, but it’s okay. It’s not like I’m going to be playing it again anytime soon,” Casey told her, seeing Max dancing with an attractive woman.

  What had she done wrong? The whole reason she had come tonight was to become friendlier with Max, who now had a sensuous brunette wrapped around him.

  With time running out, Casey couldn’t wait for Max to show an interest in her. She thought seriously about ditching her plan and using Grace to find the information she wanted, but she wouldn’t be able to gain the access to the clubhouse she needed. Casey seriously doubted Ice would leave any incriminating evidence where Grace would find it. The way everyone was acting in her presence exhibited how carefully the members behaved around her. The club whores and the men weren’t acting as raunchily as they did when she wasn’t present.

  When Renee had been with Mason, she’d had several parties which the Predators had attended. She had never been a club whore, but they had partied hard, and no one could say her mother was overprotective. It was a miracle she hadn’t grown up to be like her mother; instead, it had the opposite effect, making her as withdrawn as Renee was flamboyant. She had hidden out in her room, studying, trying to ignore the sounds coming from the rest of the tiny house they had lived in. As soon as she had graduated high school, she had moved out and hadn’t stepped a foot back inside since.

  “Something wrong?” Grace asked, seeing Casey’s troubled gaze was directed at Renee who was obviously intoxicated and talking too loudly. Mugg seemed the more sober of the two, though not by much. He was standing unsteadily at the bar, bragging about his new bike.

  “Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Casey answered in a disgusted voice. “It’s time I leave. It was nice talking to you tonight. I appreciate you trying to teach me to play pool despite me being hopeless at it.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. I just don’t think I was the right teacher,” Grace teased.

  Casey shook her head as she told her goodnight. Although she was tempted to leave without saying goodnight to her mother or Mugg, she made herself weave through the crowded clubroom until she stood by their sides.

  “I’m leaving.”

  Renee blinked at her rapidly, trying to straighten her shirt which had slid down her shoulder.

  “Aw… come on, stay a while longer. You finally got that stick out of your ass. Stay and have another drink. We’re having a celebration! It’s not every day my man turns sixty-one.”

  “His birthday was yesterday,” Casey reminded her.

  “And it’s been one long party ever since. Make her stay, Mugg,” Renee whined.

  Mugg turned from the bar, taking a look at Casey’s cold face. “Darlin’, she’s probably tired. Let her go home.”

  Reluctantly, Renee nodded, reaching for another drink.

  “Night, Mugg. Happy birthday.” Casey lowered her voice so no one would hear. “Do you need me to stay and give you a ride home?”

  Mugg patted her arm awkwardly. “No, we’re spending the night here. We’re going to live the night like we’re young again.” He gave her a wink.

  “Hell ya!” Renee tossed her drink back, nearly falling backward, but Max came up from behind and caught her before she could fall.

  “Be careful, Renee, or you’re going to spend the night in the ER instead of the back room,” Max warned.

  Renee giggled, draping herself against Mugg. “I’m fine.”

  Casey shook away the futile wish that her mother would one day change. It was never going to happen.

  She left the clubhouse, taking a deep breath once she was outside. The night had been a failure. Sighing in frustration, she took a step toward her car.

  “You don’t like your mother much, do you?”

  Casey spun around, unaware until then that Max had followed her outside and had mistaken the reason for her sound of frustration.

  “No, I don’t.”

  He stared back at her in shock.

  “Don’t look so surprised, Max. Did you expect a different answer or for me to lie?” she asked mockingly.

  “The answer, I guess. If you don’t like her, why don’t you just stay the hell away from her?”

  “Because I love her,” Casey offered the best explanation she could. “Renee is never going to grow up, ever. Mugg still thinks he can change her, that eventually she’ll quit spending money like there’s no tomorrow, that she won’t flirt with everything that has a dick, and that she’ll take better care of herself. The difference between your father and me is that I realize she’s never going to change. When Mugg finally realizes that, he’ll leave again, and when he does, he won’t come back.”

  “You don’t know my father.”

  “Really? You tell me, Max; how would Mugg react if, for example, he went to draw money out of his account, and he didn’t have a dime left to fill that bike tank with gas?”

  She watched the expressions as they crossed his face. He was figuring out for himself the answer she had already learned several times over.

  “Mugg won’t let it get to that point.”

  “Won’t he?” she asked doubtfully.

  “No.” He said it as if he was trying to convince himself more than her.

  “We’ll see. I hope you’re right, Max. I really do. I like Mugg.” She took a step toward her car then made herself stop. It was now or never.

  Turning back to face him, she asked, “Want to come over for lunch tomorrow? From the way you went for that cake, I don’t suppose you get many home-cooked meals.” She held her breath as she waited for his answer, hoping he said no then praying that he would.

  He hesitated before nodding. “Sure. I never turn down food.”

  Casey pasted what she hoped looked like a genuine smile on her face. “Good; about one? Do you need my address?”

  “One’s good, and I know where you live.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Night, Max.” She went to her car without glancing back.

  Her hand nearly dropped her key as she slid it into the ignition. Forcing herself to calm down was easier said than done. She let her eyes dart to the clubhouse to see he had gone back inside.

  “Dear God… What have I done?” she whispered into the silence of the car.

  Chapter 9

  Max parked his bike at the front of Casey’s apartment, still asking himself what the fuck he was doing. He almost backed his bike out of the parking spot, unsure why he had said he would have lunch alone with her. Maybe it was the look on her face that had made him curious enough to accept.

  Max hadn’t lived the life he had for years without knowing when he was being manipulated, and he was curious enough to find out what Casey was up to. Did she want him to try to interfere in Mugg and her m
other’s relationship? When his father had left Renee, Max hadn’t even asked why, because he had known. Mugg had been forced to borrow money from him to cover the bills Renee had built up.

  He climbed the flight of stairs to her apartment. Colton, one of the brothers¸ had stayed here briefly before he had married his wife and they had moved to a small town outside of Queen City.

  Knocking on the door, he didn’t have to wait long before it opened, and a flustered Casey stood, staring at him.

  “Am I too early?”

  “What? No… You’re exactly on time,” she said, ignoring the smoke billowing out of the apartment behind her.

  “Is something on fire?” He tried to keep his lips from twitching as she tried to pretend the smoke wasn’t there.

  “No, I had a small mishap, but everything’s fine,” she said without moving from the doorway.

  “Can I come in?”

  When she nodded, taking a step back and opening the door wider, Max strode in, coming to a stop. Turning, he saw her frantically moving the door back and forth, trying to get the smoke to leave the room.

  “I’ll open a window,” she said, closing the door hastily.

  Moving around him, she opened her living room windows while Max watched silently. The apartment wasn’t very large. The living room was barely big enough to hold a red leather couch and coffee table. She had a small table that she had set with plates and what looked like a pitcher of iced tea.

  “I won’t be a minute. Have a seat.” She waved at the table as she walked to the small kitchen that was separated from the room by a counter with a couple of stools.

  He remained standing, observing her as she took a burned pan of goo off the stove. Bending down, she pulled another pan from underneath the counter, deftly tossing some vegetables into it.

  “I’m sorry. I had it done, but the phone rang, and I became distracted. It won’t take me a minute to make another batch.”

  “What are we having?”

  “Fajitas. I hope you like Mexican. I made some rice.” She motioned to the counter. “If you want to help, you could set those on the table.”

  Max didn’t think she liked him staring at her. Setting the food that was placed on the counter onto the table, he then opened the tortilla warmer and saw she had made fresh flour shells. His ass sat down in the chair.

  “I love Mexican. Did you make these yourself?” he asked, placing a spoonful of rice into a shell and eating half of it in one bite.

  “Yes,” Casey answered, placing a large platter filled with chicken and vegetables down on the table. “I have beer if you’d like one.”

  “Tea’s fine,” Max replied, already reaching for another shell. He was in heaven. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a home-cooked meal. At the clubhouse, the members all fended for themselves. He had hoped after finding out that Grace could cook like a chef that her friend CeCe would be as adept, but she had never offered to cook for him. Most of the time, they would eat out before going to the clubhouse or her house. When he had stayed the night at her house, he would take her out to breakfast before heading out on the long road back home.

  She poured them both drinks. “I have plenty. You can take what’s left back to the clubhouse when you leave.”

  “There’s not going to be anything left.” Max shook his head.

  As he ate, he noticed a pair of pictures hanging on the wall behind her. Casey was standing next to one of the best-looking men Max had ever seen, and they were looking into each other’s eyes while Casey cupped his cheek in one hand. In the other picture, they were sitting on a towel on the beach, surrounded by seashells. The man was showing her a starfish, and they were both staring down at it as if it was a miracle of nature. There was something special about the picture, but Max couldn’t place what it was.

  “Is that the boyfriend?” He nodded to the picture behind her head.

  “Jayce? No, that’s not him.”

  Max waited for her to tell him who it was, but she remained silent, continuing to eat.

  “He know you’re cheating on him?”

  Casey laid her fork on her plate, frowning. “I don’t consider eating lunch with you cheating on Jayce, but for your information, I’m not seeing him anymore.”

  “I wasn’t talking about me,” he said, surprised that had been what she had thought he meant. “I was talking about the man in the pictures. It’s obvious you care about him, and that picture wasn’t taken too long ago.”

  “Oh.” She picked her fork up again. “How do you know those pictures aren’t old?”

  “Mugg told me you went on vacation to the beach two months ago, and you’ve been wearing that necklace since you came back.”

  Her hand went to the silver starfish necklace around her throat. “I see.”

  When she continued to refuse to explain who the man in the picture was, Max held himself back from asking outright. He was here for lunch, not to pick apart her private life, even with the burning curiosity about the man who had given her the necklace she wore constantly.

  “Did you enjoy your vacation?” he finally asked despite himself.

  “Yes, I went to Disney World.”

  “You went to Disney World for your vacation?”

  “Yes. Have you been?”

  “No, I’m too old for amusement parks,” he said, becoming irritated by her short answers. Most women would tell you everything before you could ask. However, getting information out of Casey was like trying to pull old wallpaper off: it wasn’t going to happen without hard work. Max wasn’t used to putting out any effort on women and wasn’t going to start now.

  “No one is too old for Disney World. You should go and take your kids.”

  Max snorted. “Their mothers wouldn’t let me take them out of the state, much less all the way to Florida.”

  “Do they take the kids on vacations out of state?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then, if I were you, I would get a better lawyer. You’re their father, and most judges give the fathers the same rights as the mothers, unless their mothers can prove they’re unsafe with you.” She stared back at him.

  “I’m a good father!” He started to get angry until her hand covered his where it was lying on the table.

  “I know you are, Max. I’ve seen you with them several times since our parents married. If they aren’t giving you the rights you deserve, take them to court.”

  Max swallowed hard. “I guess the reason I don’t fight with them about it is because I remember the fights my parents had when they divorced,” Max admitted out loud for the first time.

  “That’s why I suggested a lawyer. Try talking to them first away from the kids. If that doesn’t work, let them know that you’re going to fight for your rights. Maybe they just want a few assurances from you before giving you more time.”

  “I’ll do that.” Max leaned back in his chair, feeling full. “If I don’t stop eating, I’ll have to undo my belt,” he joked.

  Casey laughed, covering her face with her hand. “Please don’t remind me of putting my foot in my mouth. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. Did you see Renee’s face?”

  Max laughed. “No, I was too busy watching you. I’ve never seen a woman turn that shade of red before.”

  “I doubt that.” Casey rolled her eyes.

  Max grinned, enjoying seeing the more playful side of her he had never witnessed before.

  She stood, clearing the table, and Max helped by packing his own dishes to the sink. His eyes were caught by the pictures again as he turned back around. Pausing, he frowned.

  “Does he live in Queen City? I’ve seen him somewhere.”

  “You just don’t quit, do you? That’s my brother Cole.”

  Memories of the boy flooded back. “I remember now. He’s a few years older than you. I saw him around a few times when Renee was married to Mason. He didn’t come to Mugg’s and your mother’s wedding.”

  “No. He left town right before Mason and
Renee divorced, and he hasn’t been back since.”

  “He doesn’t see Renee? I haven’t even seen a picture of him in her house. There’s several of you, but none of him.”

  “It hurts Renee that Cole won’t see her, so she doesn’t keep pictures of him to remind her. Would you like to watch some television? I have a few hours before I have to be at work.”

  Max frowned.

  “Don’t start.” She stopped his protest about the job before he could open his mouth.

  “I have some time,” Max told her, going to the couch to sit down.

  The apartment didn’t have a lot of furnishings, and other than the two pictures hanging on the wall, there weren’t any of her personal things around the apartment. He knew she had to make some pretty decent money, certainly enough to pay for the apartment; as a result, the frugal life she led made no sense to him.

  All the women he had been with loved to keep pretty things around them. Casey, on the other hand, was lifeless other than the red couch. He remembered her asking Mugg to come to her apartment to let the delivery driver in when she had bought it on sale.

  “What kind of movies do you like to watch?”

  “Action, but I can deal with comedy,” Max told her.

  “I could have guessed that,” Casey said, sitting down next to him with the television control.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing,” she said, flipping through the movies.

  Max folded his arms across his chest, wondering if he had just been insulted. “I’m not stupid.”

  Her shocked gaze met his. “I didn’t think you were.”

  “Then how do you know whether I would like action movies or a comedy? Maybe I want to watch something else.”

  “Do you?”

  “No,” he said grumpily.

  “Okay.” She turned back to flipping through the movies. “How’s this one? I haven’t seen it, have you?”

  He had, but he didn’t tell her that. He had enjoyed it and wouldn’t mind seeing it again.

  She started the movie, leaning back. Max had expected her to put some room between them on the small couch or at least try to. Casey didn’t, though. She sat next to him as if she did it all the time.