Cleaning up his hometown after an EF4 was one of those harder times.

Max had taken it upon himself to personally a.s.sess which buildings were safe and which needed repair or demolition. It was something he always took seriously. In his hometown, when the people going back inside those buildings were family and friends, it weighed on him even more than usual.

"Bored," Bree confirmed. "There's nothing for me to do. No one's looting, no one's fighting. Everyone's pulling together. There's no speeding-all the streets are blocked with debris or with vehicles working on cleaning up the debris. Everyone's too busy and too tired to get into any trouble."

Max shook his head, a small smile threatening in spite of himself. "You're disappointed that no one's getting into trouble?"

That shouldn't amuse him. It was exactly the reason she was heading to Arizona in two months to not only jump out of airplanes but to teach others to do it, too. Being a cop in Chance was boring, for f.u.c.k's sake.

Bree shook her head. "I just want something to do, some way to contribute. They don't need me in uniform, so I told the chief I wanted to do more. He said you needed more people helping with inspections, so here I am."

Max took in her appearance again. Her hair was tied back, and her jeans and boots were appropriate, but the tank was not. "You can't go climbing around inspecting buildings with all that skin showing."

She frowned. "It's interesting how often you're trying to get me covered up, you know that?" She turned on her heel and headed for the door.

Max watched her go. If only she knew how uncovered up he'd like her to be.

Okay, that was a dumb thing to stomp out over, but he had to admit, he was going to breathe easier without her here.

He had work to do. A lot of it. And Bree was distracting him.

That p.i.s.sed him off.

He could jump out of airplanes and downhill ski at breakneck speeds, drag race his beat-up old car around the dirt track at the fairgrounds, rock climb with her right by his side. They'd done a lot of risky things together, and he'd never had trouble keeping his concentration.

Then again, he hadn't known how greedy Bree became when her nipples were played with and sucked, and he hadn't known how sweet she looked and sounded when she came.

Heat pulsed through him, and he shifted to adjust for the increasing size of his c.o.c.k at those thoughts.

It was definitely good that she'd left.

He was currently making notes on things he'd need someone else to inspect, and he needed to focus to be sure he got everything down. This all took longer than he liked. Taking careful notes so that whoever was helping him didn't miss anything, and then going over them with the other person, and then watching the other person do the actual inspection took three times the amount of time it would take if Max could just do it himself.

But he couldn't. His limited knee range of motion and strength kept him from safely climbing and balancing. With climbing gear on mountain sides, it was fine. Because of his climbing experience, he'd even helped out with some search-and-rescue in Colorado a year or so ago. But without the gear, he was taking a huge risk, and as much as it p.i.s.sed him off right now, he wasn't going to do something stupid.

He'd accepted his restrictions and made the necessary modifications to his job. He had a ton of great guys working for him who could easily do the kneeling, climbing, kicking, pushing, and pulling that he couldn't. It was no big deal. Until he was here.

Now, here in Chance, he wanted to personally put his hands and feet all over the structures he was concerned about so when he pa.s.sed them, he knew they truly pa.s.sed. But he wasn't going to be able to do that. He was going to have to keep careful track and bring someone back with him and carefully instruct him or her in what he needed to do to feel good about pa.s.sing a building, and none of the guys here were part of his regular crew. Some were just volunteers with little knowledge about construction. And that all worried him, too. If his regular guys were here, his explanations wouldn't have to be quite so detailed, and he wouldn't have to watch them quite as carefully.

He'd thought about calling Brad or Trent up here, but he couldn't wait even long enough for them to make the drive from Oklahoma City.

Part of him just wanted to tear down all the damaged buildings and start over with a sure, firm foundation, walls, and roofs. Of course, that was ridiculous. It would cost far too much money and time and really wasn't necessary.

But inspecting buildings where his family, friends, neighbors, past teachers, cla.s.smates, and multiple other people would be living and working was a heavier burden than he would have expected. He couldn't be completely objective here like he could everywhere else in the world.

So, he needed to pull his head out of the I-made-Bree-beg cloud he'd been in and do his job better than he'd ever done it.

h.e.l.l, he should be grateful for the work. If he wasn't busy with the cleanup and he and Bree were hanging out the way they usually did on his trips home, he would never be able to keep his hands to himself. And that would be a disaster on par with this tornado. Because Bree McDermott definitely had the ability to tear up his life. Or at least his heart.

The only thing that had let them remain friends after she'd rejected him in high school and then again two years ago was his own resolve to never again make the same mistake of trying to be sweet, romantic, and boring with Bree.

Max moved across the barn to the north side, shoving thoughts of Bree to the back of his mind where he'd been trying to keep them since the day before. They snuck out once in a while, but for the most part, it was working.

Until he actually saw her. Like in Frank's office that morning. He'd given her his usual smile, trying with everything he had to act normally, but seeing her for the first time since the ditch had nearly made his knees buckle.

Max pointed his high-powered flashlight at the ceiling, determined to focus.

Even this beam wasn't strong enough to quite reach the spot Max wanted to see more clearly. He really needed to get up there. Dammit.

The barn was the main building in the Montgomery Farms visitor's area. Everyone who visited the farm pa.s.sed through here. They bought tickets and souvenirs and food here. They learned the history of the farm. They weighed their produce before taking it home. Some might believe this was the most important building to ensure was stable. Max disagreed. Every building where a single person would be was equally important.

But he'd started here because it was his family's business. Their good name was not only attached to the barn, it was literally painted on the side of it. It was the first place the Bronsons would likely visit. It was the heart of the farm. And it was the most severely damaged and would take the most time to repair. Max needed to get his inspection done so he could direct the repairs and make sure they were perfect. It would be tempting to rush through things, to patch it all up so it looked good for the Bronsons and then come back and actually fix it after their visit. That wasn't how Max rolled, and he was going to be sure this was all done right.

"Better?"

He pivoted at the sound of Bree's voice. She was back.

Well, f.u.c.k.

CHAPTER FOUR.

Now she wore a light b.u.t.toned-up plaid shirt over her tank. Her arms and shoulders were covered. It was unb.u.t.toned, but yeah, it was better. Not only was there less skin that could get sc.r.a.ped, cut, or bruised, but . . . there was less skin to be distracting him as he worked.

"You're still here."

She nodded. "Still here. I'm going to work with you."

"Bree, I-"

"I need to learn from you," she said, coming toward him. "I told you, Chief Mitch.e.l.l wants me to learn more of the emergency-management stuff. I'm excited about it because, frankly, all of my job has been boring lately."

Max felt his jaw tighten. Boring. That f.u.c.king word. And of course she was bored. She'd been doing the job for three years now. That was the longest Bree had stayed at one thing in her life.

"Does the chief know you're leaving?" he asked.

She frowned. "I'm thinking about leaving."

Max felt his heart thump. "I thought you'd decided."

"I haven't given them an answer for sure."

He resisted rolling his eyes. He didn't want her to go to Arizona, but he was exasperated for the people there. He should have known that Bree wouldn't make a commitment two and a half months ahead of time.

She must have read his thoughts in his expression. "I only have to give thirty days' notice to the chief, and that's seventy-three days away."

She knew exactly how many days away it was. Max shook his head. She'd never had a job that required notice before this.

"You are thinking about it, though?"

He'd figured she was set on the job. It was skydiving. That would always be more exciting than law enforcement in a town where people stopped to let squirrels run across the street.

"Yes. But I have seventy-three days here still," she pointed out.

"And we definitely need to keep you entertained for those seventy-three days," he said tightly.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked. "You don't want me to know this stuff?"

There were actually several answers to the question about what was wrong with him. "Even in Chance, tornadoes don't happen every week."

"But there are other things," she said, either missing or ignoring the bitterness in his voice. "I would help with anything that went down-fires, blizzards, floods."

"You won't be here for blizzards," he said through gritted teeth.

"Well, the other stuff. A lot could happen between now and August. The more people who know how to handle those things, the better, right?"

"Fine. Let's teach you some stuff."

That time, she commented on his tone. "What's going on?"

"Nothing."

She frowned. "Clearly that's not true."

"You're a cop, Bree," he said, exasperated. "In a small town. Where you grew up. You knew it was going to be quiet. And cops, in general, should probably like when things are quiet, don't you think? Means things are good."

She frowned harder. "I did know it was going to be quiet."

"But did you think that through? Did you really ask yourself if you were choosing something that would stimulate you and make you happy? Or did you jump into it on a whim and because you got to carry a gun?"

He knew the answer. She'd already hopped jobs a couple of times before joining the force, and neither of those jobs had used the sociology degree she'd finally completed after changing her major three times. She'd seen Chief Mitch.e.l.l take down a guy who'd stopped in at the convenience store off the highway and attempted to rob it while Wes was in there picking up milk and batteries.

She'd been so hyped up on adrenaline from first seeing the guy pull the gun and then seeing the chief drop him, unarm him, and cuff him that she'd immediately decided that's what she wanted to do.

She'd gone to the academy in the town thirty miles away and had actually enjoyed all her training. Then she'd come back to sleepy little Chance.

Max supposed he'd just been waiting for this "My job is boring" thing to come up. Now that he was thinking about it, Bree had lasted longer than he'd expected.

Bree looked angry now. "It's okay if I'm not enamored with my job every second of every day, Max."

"And let me guess, even before Arizona came up, you had been thinking about moving to another city because it would be a more dangerous job and exciting,'" Max said. He didn't want to push this. The idea had occurred to him, and he'd been ignoring it for months. He didn't want her to leave Chance. He didn't want her to go somewhere bigger and more dangerous. He didn't want her taking risks with things like bad guys with guns. Or a larger dating pool. Including guys who liked to jump out of airplanes.

It wasn't like he'd never thought about the fact that Bree could actually do what Max had so far failed to do-find someone else who wanted to go on her adventures with her. But in Chance the odds were smaller. Much smaller.

He'd a.s.sumed that he filled her need-for-thrills gaps like she did for him, and that she was getting whatever else she needed elsewhere. And he didn't spend a lot of time thinking about that at all.

Bree put her hands on her hips again and glared at him. "I have been thinking about that, yes."

He blew out a frustrated breath and shook his head. "Of course you have."

He loved her adventurous spirit. And he f.u.c.king hated her restlessness. It had always been there, but as she got older, instead of growing out of it, it seemed to be getting worse.

Why couldn't she just be content? Satisfied. Fulfilled. Happy.

That's where Max was. He loved his life, his work, the things he'd accomplished, his hobbies, his friends and family. He had seen so much loss and devastation that he was grateful for every d.a.m.ned thing he had. Yeah, his knee was messed up and gave him fits at times, but it was a badge of honor, dammit. He'd survived. He'd come back. It made him empathetic, and it helped others in crisis, physical and otherwise, know he could be trusted when he told them it would get better.

So yes, he was content.

Content was something Bree wasn't. Had never been.

And when he let himself think about it-he avoided thinking about a lot of things in regard to Bree-it made him absolutely crazy.

She had a great life, too. She had a job that was meaningful and that she was good at. She had family and friends who loved her. She got to travel and do amazing things. She had Avery and Kit. She had her motorcycle. Why, for the love of G.o.d, couldn't she look at what she had and be happy rather than always thinking about what she didn't have, what she hadn't tried, where she hadn't gone yet?

"What does Of course you have' mean?" she asked, now folding her arms.

Some men, maybe most men, would be intimidated by the look Bree was now giving him and the fact that she did own and know how to use a stun gun, but she was Bree. His Bree. The woman he'd known all his life. She couldn't scare him. At least not by looking mean.

"It means that you never stay."

"What are you talking about? I've lived in this town all my life. I went away to college, and I've moved a couple of times, but I've always come back."

He shouldn't be doing this right now. He had work to do. Important work.

But he couldn't stop now. Everything had been fine until she'd kissed him. Then, like a switch had been flipped, feelings and desires had spilled through him. Things he'd wanted but had been denying. Things he'd been pushing away and trying to ignore.

"And why do you keep coming back?" he asked.

Her brow wrinkled. "Because it's home. I've gone out, tried new things, lived in new places, experienced what that's like. But this is home."

He blew out a breath. He'd love to think she really wanted home, wanted to be in one place for good. "You know that a lot of people take jobs other places and stay there, right?" he asked.

She tipped her head, not quite rolling her eyes, but it was implied. "Yes. Like you. And Jake. And Dillon. Even Avery lived away for a while," she said. "I get it, Max. But the jobs I've had aren't like yours. They didn't require that kind of . . ."

She seemed to not be sure of the right word, and Max gritted his teeth as he waited to see if she'd come up with it.

"Commitment," she finally said.

Well, at least she knew the word. He sighed. She'd been a bartender in New Orleans for about seven months. She'd been a tour guide in San Francisco for six months. She'd been a fitness instructor in San Antonio for nine months. But she'd always come home again. This was where she'd stayed for the long stretches. She'd been working as a receptionist in Kit's clinic before she'd joined the force.

"And why do you think you've never taken jobs that require you to settle someplace for a long period of time?" he asked.

She didn't want to be tied down. He knew that. But he wondered if she really knew it.