Page 32 of Red Hunt

“How did you know?”

“How did I know what?” His voice was low now. Low and deep and calming. He leaned toward me, lifted his hand, and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear as if it was the most natural thing to do.

I closed my eyes for a second, relishing in his touch. I wondered how his lips would feel on mine. That thought brought me right back down to the sidewalk. This was not the moment to close my eyes or dream about kissing Max. Not when minutes ago, someone was shot right beside us.

“We were on the ground and behind the table before the first shot rang. How did you know?”

“I saw the gun.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged as if this was normal.

And maybe it was. Maybe for him, it was normal. But not for me. When I was a kid, living with my drugged-up mom, this might’ve been normal. And even back then, I hadn’t encountered gun violence. But here? This wasn’t normal here. Not in this life.

“Come on, let’s get you off the ground. There’s probably someone who wants to talk to us.” He helped me up, slung his arm around my waist, and pressed me loosely against himself.

Right at that moment, Deputy Sheriff Belinda walked toward us. I’d met Belinda through some self-defense training Sharon and I had attended a while back. We stayed in contact afterward since we knew a lot of the same people, Niki Michaels being one of them.

Thank God Belinda was here and not Sheriff Travers or Peter. Because they’d take one look at Max sitting next to me and they would go all “raised eyebrows” and over-protective alpha-male on my behalf. And I didn’t need to be defended. Didn’t want to be defended.

Not against Max.

18

MAX

“Hey, Belinda,” Milli said next to me and made me look up just as I helped her off the ground.

The petite, dark-haired deputy who walked toward us wasn’t at all what I’d imagined when the boys told me about their meeting with the Sheriff’s Department. So, this was the woman who’d captured Peaches’ interest? Not that I could fault him. She looked like she meant business without a hint of a smile, her straight nose, honest eyes, and full red lips, and tiny but womanly in all the right places. And by the way she zeroed in on us without a smile, and after what Goofy had told me about her behavior at the meeting, she was a bulldog. She looked me up and down, then directed her gaze pointedly to my arm around Milli until I let go of her. Only then did she surprise me when she took a step forward and hugged Milli. Not your usual modus operandi for a professional on duty.

“Are you okay, Milli?”

Milli took a step back and nodded. “I’m perfectly fine, thanks to Max.”

“Max?” She looked me over, and the only thing missing was a lifted brow to show her scrutiny.

“Max Mullner.” I offered her my hand, and the deputy seemed to relax a little.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I didn’t see anything until Max toppled over the table and pushed me to the ground behind it, then I heard the shots.” Milli grabbed my upper arm just like that—no hesitation, no fear. And her touch incited a pleasant wave of warmth traveling up my arm.

Her move wasn’t lost on the deputy, as well.

“Hey, Max, everything good with you and your girl?” one of the paramedics I’d met yesterday, from the last ambulance still on scene, called out, and I gave him the thumbs-up. I hadn’t checked Milli out, but she didn’t seem hurt. Just to be sure, I did a quick visual inspection, but she looked fine.

“So, Max. What did you see?”

Right, back to the task at hand. “Middle-aged male, dark hair, possibly Hispanic, crossed the street right over there”—I pointed over to where the victim had been just minutes ago—“drew a gun—looked like a Glock to me, but I’m not sure.” I shrugged. “Then Milli and I took cover.”

“Took cover?”

“Yes.”

“Looked like a Glock?”

I nodded.

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