Taking Chances: Tangled Up Part 8

Dillon nodded.

Something had definitely caused everyone to go crazy during this tornado.

"She kissed you, too, though, right?" Max pointed out.

"h.e.l.l yeah, she did," Dillon said with a scowl.

"I don't know, guys." Jake stretched his arms over his head and linked his hands at the back of his neck. "This was one of the better tornadoes I've been in."

Max couldn't disagree. No one had died. All the damage could be cleaned up, repaired, or replaced. It was true the tornado had mixed up a lot more than buildings and houses and fields, but fortunately for Chance-and Bree, Avery, and Kit-Max and the guys were here. Max, Jake, and Dillon specialized in straightening things out after they got all messed up.

CHAPTER THREE.

Bree stood to one side in the mayor's office waiting for the strategy meeting to start, chewing on her left thumbnail and waiting for Kit to show up. She'd heard Frank tell Robyn, his receptionist, that he was expecting Kit, Dillon, Avery, and Jake at the meeting this morning.

Max was already here.

He and Frank had been talking about the farm cleanup and if they needed to ask for some contractors and crews from neighboring towns to come help. Now he was filling Frank in on some of the notes he'd made about structural concerns around town. And Bree was dealing with finding all that bizarrely s.e.xy.

This was a side of Max she knew existed on a cerebral level but that she didn't see often. When he was in Chance, they hung out, goofed around, acted like big kids. She loved that. In contrast, this was the serious, in-charge Max. And he was hot.

Bree really needed Kit to get here early.

She needed her shrink best friend to tell her that her dirty dreams about Max last night were normal after the ditch o.r.g.a.s.m and that if she'd finally found a guy who got her going like jumping out of a plane did, she needed to hang on to him. Even if she had been hanging on to him in some form for most of her life.

What she really needed was for Kit to tell her that finding that amazing s.e.xual rush with Max, of all people, was something special and she should go for it. Because that's what she wanted to do. She wanted to go for it. With Max.

Having a psychiatrist for a best friend could be really annoying at times. Because contrary to Kit's belief, Bree didn't like being a.n.a.lyzed while eating a Reuben or sorting her laundry or at commercial breaks during Supernatural. But now, getting Kit's educated perspective on things for free was going to be a well-earned perk of their friendship.

Kit walked in, and Bree made a beeline for her. She needed to hear the psychiatrist who knew everything about her-d.a.m.ned tequila, anyway-tell her that wanting to have hot against-the-wall s.e.x with Max made perfect sense and that she should start tonight.

Kit saw her coming, held up a finger, and then pointed to the phone that she held to her ear under her long, dark hair.

She was on the phone? Now? Bree needed to talk. Before she talked to Max and said something stupid like, Will you let me pour my favorite beer all over you and then lap it up with my tongue? and ruined everything forever.

Max was someone she needed in her life. She could not mess this up for an o.r.g.a.s.m or two.

But maybe-maybe-she was wrong to think it would ruin anything. Maybe she was denying herself something for no good reason.

If that was the case, she needed to know. Now.

She mouthed to Kit, "It's urgent."

Kit nodded. But kept talking.

Fortunately, Max and Frank had already been involved in their conversation when she'd approached the mayor's office door. Robyn had told her to go on in, so she'd slipped in, trying to go unnoticed.

She hadn't.

Max had looked over immediately and given her a smile that she'd seen four billion times-give or take-in her life. It was the smile that lit up his whole face and said he was happy to see her, and it always made her feel warm and happy.

Today it also brought back memories of her dream where Max stripped off her uniform pants and found her matching navy-blue lace thong-which was how she'd known it was a dream. She didn't do thongs. But she could be talked into them if Max would always tear them off with his teeth before putting his head between her legs and . . .

She felt the heat climbing through her body and was sure that her face looked like she'd just finished a three-mile run. Which she had earlier, trying to work off the jumpy feeling of electricity zipping through her body. But that had been hours ago, and she'd showered and gotten rid of some of the pulsing energy herself.

And it hadn't even come close to feeling the way Max's fingers had felt.

Bree gritted her teeth and gave Kit a hand gesture that meant Hurry up.

She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Max was still talking with Frank. He was, and Dillon had now joined them.

Dillon had come into the room and Bree hadn't even noticed? Great police skills there. She was that worked up.

Argh! She narrowed her eyes at Kit again and mouthed, "Come on."

Kit gave her a behave-yourself look that Bree had seen almost as many times as she'd seen the light-him-up smile that Max gave her.

No, that wasn't quite right. She hadn't been close to Kit that long. They'd gone to high school together and had known each other, of course. But they hadn't hung out. Kit had been running every committee and competing with Dillon for top spot in their cla.s.s while Bree had been getting only high-enough grades that she could stay on the sports teams, and otherwise partying and doing stupid, risky things that she now busted kids for.

Bree studied her friend and admitted that they were still polar opposites. Kit was sophisticated and polished and put together. She was intelligent and cool under pressure and put off a vibe of "I'm way out of your league."

Bree, on the other hand, was down-to-earth, often a little rumpled, and never concerned with her appearance. Never. Which bugged the h.e.l.l out of Kit. Where Kit was dark and sleek, Bree was blonde and curly. Where Kit had curves and looked great in heels, Bree was built more like a boy and would spend her life barefoot if she could. Kit was very routine oriented and didn't like change. Bree thrived on change. She loved trying new things. Kit did yoga and meditated and read biographies of amazing women. Bree ran and rode motorcycles and only read fiction. Bree loved to garden-that was about as peaceful as she got. Kit loved to get involved in political issues, especially women's issues-which was about as wound up as Kit got.

But they worked.

Kit was her best girlfriend. Kit balanced Bree, made her look at the world differently, and she appreciated their differences, and vice versa.

And Bree really needed to talk to her now.

She glanced at the door. Maybe Avery would get here soon. She could probably bounce this off Avery. Chance's fire chief was a newer addition to their friendship, and she was definitely tough to get close to. Kit understood the importance of close personal relationships and loved to delve into thoughts and feelings. Bree just couldn't keep a lid on most of her thoughts and feelings. She was an open book, for the most part. Avery was . . . not any of those things. She'd never had close girlfriends, so it was taking some time to get her to open up.

She'd come around.

But she wasn't even here yet.

Bree's girlfriends were definitely letting her down.

She looked over at Max again. She was behind him, so she could only see his back, but unlike in the past when she'd looked at him, today she was acutely aware of how wide his shoulders were and how tight his a.s.s was, and that his hair was a shade darker than her favorite bock beer.

She was a.n.a.lyzing the color of his hair now? Really?

Bree whirled around on Kit and gave her friend her best cop look. "I need to talk to you now."

Kit's eyes got wide, and she nodded. "I will do that," she said into the phone. "Thanks so much."

She disconnected, and Bree grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the corner of the room farthest from Max.

"What is going on?" Kit asked.

"I had a s.e.x dream about Max last night." Bree tried to say it in a whisper, but Bree wasn't really the whispering type.

They both glanced over at the men in the room to see if Bree had been overheard.

Thankfully, Max and Dillon and Frank seemed oblivious to their conversation.

"Tell me that's fine," Bree ordered.

"Well, of course it's fine," Kit said, recovering from her surprise. "Why wouldn't it be fine?"

"It's not crazy?"

Kit sighed. She hated when Bree referred to things as crazy. She said the term was tossed around too loosely. "Of course not. You and Max are close; you have a lot of feelings for him."

She did. And feeling like she'd do almost anything to get his fingers back where they'd been yesterday had now been added to the list.

"But it's Max," Bree said. "He's my best friend. We don't . . . do that." She hadn't even ever wanted to. Until now. Now she couldn't stop thinking about it.

"You were really happy he was coming home this weekend," Kit said. "You've been eager to see him, and then the tornado hit, and that brought a lot of unusual thoughts and emotions for all of us."

Bree hadn't seen Kit at all yesterday. They'd spoken briefly on the phone after the tornado touchdown, but they'd both been swamped and hadn't seen each other in person.

"Are you okay?" Bree asked.

Kit seemed to shake herself. "Of course. I'm fine. I'm just saying that when things happen like a tornado hitting town for the third year in a row, emotions get tangled up, and things can happen that wouldn't happen on a usual day. I wouldn't worry about it."

Bree was nodding as she listened. That all made sense. "It was the tornado."

"Probably."

She had felt a lot of things while they'd been out chasing and then hit the ditch. She'd been scared and excited. She'd felt her usual affection for Max and then something more when he'd gotten hurt protecting her. She'd also felt safe. And grateful. And then h.o.r.n.y.

Huh.

"Is it possible to mistake one kind of adrenaline rush for another?" Bree asked.

Kit frowned slightly. "You mean to have adrenaline rushing from the storm, but to interpret it as being turned on s.e.xually?"

"Yes. Yes, exactly."

"It definitely is." Kit had a strange look on her face.

Bree squinted at her. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. But yes, like I said, in a situation like that, where we're scared and confused and worried, it's easy to scramble a bunch of other emotions in there, too."

Bree looked over at Max. It had been the tornado.

She'd gotten h.o.r.n.y because of a tornado.

Or she'd thought she was h.o.r.n.y because of a tornado when really she'd just been excited and scared.

That was . . . not as much of a relief as she would have thought it would be.

She'd actually wanted to know that Max, the guy she trusted implicitly and liked more than any other she'd ever met, could also give her such a rush. She was always looking for more. More fun, more excitement, more thrills.

Hot, dirty, fun, amazing s.e.x with the guy who'd been beside her for so many of the other big thrills in her life? Yeah, that had sounded pretty good.

But it was really just about the freaking tornado.

Anyone who'd been in that ditch with her could have taken advantage of her rushing adrenaline and made her feel the things Max had. It just made sense that it had been Max beside her. Max was always beside her for the big rushes now.

And apparently she was now projecting those feelings from the ditch onto the discussion he was having with Frank and Dillon. Because listening to him discussing the safe demolition of an old farmhouse about a mile outside town or the structural stability of the school was making her feel wiggly.

Thankfully, before she had time to further wallow in the unfairness of it all, Frank's office door opened, and his wife, Shelby, stepped through. Frank rose from behind his desk with a wide smile for his much-younger wife. Bree straightened as her friend Avery followed Shelby in with Jake Mitch.e.l.l.

It was so . . . interesting . . . that Chance had been hit by another EF4 the same weekend Max, Jake, and their other cousin Dillon were in town. Yes, interesting was the word. Unbelievable was another.

All three men were exArmy National Guard, and all had an interest in emergency management and disaster recovery. In fact, Jake and Max both actually made their livings with their specialties-recovery management and reconstruction after natural disasters, respectively-while Dr. Dillon was second in command in one of the busiest ERs in Fort Worth.

Avery shot Bree a questioning look as she came into the room, and Bree knew she was asking, Why is everyone here? Bree shrugged. She didn't know for sure what was going on, either. This was supposed to be a routine debriefing and strategy meeting. That meant the fire chief, police chief, mayor, and, okay, it made a little sense that Frank would want Max's and Jake's input considering their backgrounds. It probably also made sense to have one of the town doctors here to give an injury-and-recovery report, but Dillon was a visitor who happened to have a medical degree. He was hardly the town's medical leader. And Chief Mitch.e.l.l should really be here instead of Bree representing the police efforts. Kit gave Avery a similar shrug.

So no one really knew why he or she was here.

Except for Frank.

"Thanks for coming in," Frank said as Shelby went to stand beside him. He put an arm around her waist, and she snuggled into him, beaming at all of them.

And Shelby. Shelby definitely knew what was up.

Shelby always knew what was up.

"We're going to burn the first bit of debris Wednesday night," Frank announced.

"You want the department to build and light the fire," Avery said.

Bree sighed. This was going to be a boring meeting. She knew it. No wonder Chief Mitch.e.l.l had said she should come instead of him.

"Of course. We'll wait until right after dark. The city is providing hot dogs and marshmallows," Frank said.

Avery frowned. "Hot dogs and marshmallows?"

Frank nodded. "Jake suggested we make it a town bonfire. We'll get some music out there, have some food, make it a little party."