“I’m sorry. I left my phone in my room last night. And I should have thought of you trying to call but I was…” Suddenly Caroline’s cheeks got pink and she looked at Zander before dropping her gaze to the floor. “Busy.”
Max gasped. “Caroline Camille Holland!” But then she grinned and hugged Caroline again. “Good for you.” Her eyes met Zander’s over Caroline’s shoulder. “Yeah, he’s definitely your type.” She let Caroline go again and looked her over. “I seriously did not recognize you.”
“Is it really that different?” Caroline looked down at herself.
“Girl, you're wearing…denim.”
“I’ve worn denim.”
“You’ve borrowed jeans from me. Like single digit times. You don’t own your own jeans. And you’ve never worn cut off shorts in your life.” Max lifted her hand to one of the braids that hung against Caroline shoulder. “And your hair is in braids? I have never seen your hair in braids.”
“Never?” Caroline asked.
“I have known you for twenty years and I have never seen your hair in braids. But, girl, you are rocking this denim. Damn, you make a good country girl.”
Caroline blushed slightly, and Zander felt his body stir. Of course, the woman could sneeze and he would feel his body stir.
Caroline ran a hand over the front of her tank top and jeans shorts. It was the most basic, most common outfit seen in Autre, Louisiana, and yet she was acting like she was wearing a ball gown.
“You really think so?”
“You always pull everything off,” Max told her. “You make everything look beautiful. And I love and hate you for it. But yes, if you're going for blending in down here, you are spot on.” With her hands on Caroline’s shoulders, Max turned her, checking her out from all directions.
Zander certainly didn't mind and took the opportunity to do the same. But when he noticed that Spencer was also appreciating the various angles, he elbowed his cousin hard in the side. Spencer only laughed.
Max nodded. “Yeah, you need more shorts like this. Your ass looks great in those.”
Caroline laughed and covered her butt with her hands, but she looked pleased.
Zander shook his head. Was it possible that this woman didn't know how fucking gorgeous she was? Or that other people never told her this?
“I concur,” he told her, knowing his voice sounded husky.
“Same,” Spencer said with a nod.
Zander punched him in the side this time and got a little oof before Spencer chuckled.
Caroline's cheeks were bright pink now, but she met his eyes and he felt the heat flicker between them.
“Yeah, I knew he was your cop,” Max said, watching them.
“Stop it,” Caroline told her softly.
“What? Long hair, tattoos, big, and willing to punch other guys? Totally what you go for.” Her gaze flickered to Spencer. “That one is too buttoned up for you.”
“You don't know a thing about me, darlin’,” Spencer told her, drawling the last word for good measure.
“I know that if you do have tattoos, they’re only in places where you can cover them up. Wouldn’t want the FBI seeing any ink peeking out underneath your starched white sleeves, right?”
Spencer was, in fact, wearing a button-down white shirt with the cuffs rolled up. The tattoos on his upper arm and his left shoulder blade did not show. On purpose.
Spencer’s gaze tracked over her now. “I'm not seeing any ink anywhere on you either.”
“Yeah well, thankfully, being big and inked and badass isn't the only way to get girls into bed,” she said in a sweet voice while she batted her eyelashes.
Her underlying meaning sunk in a second later, and Spencer straightened, blinking at her.
Zander smirked. It was a Landry male curse to assume that all women could be easily charmed by a grin and a drawled darlin'.
The problem was that they never learned any better, because it was true for eight out of ten women they encountered. Yes, all Landry men. Of course, those two out of ten women were the ones they ended up settling down with so they did figure things out. Eventually.
“Okay,” Caroline broke in. “Max, I'm sorry I didn't tell you I left my room in the middle of the night. Zander came and got me.”
“Very glad to hear it,” Max said, appreciatively.
“Brantley showed up and Zander was worried about me staying there,” Caroline explained quickly.
Max’s smile dropped and she wrinkled her nose in confusion. “Brantley showed up in the middle of the night?”
“I left her phone behind,” Zander said. “Wasn't sure if Brantley was tracking her through some kind of GPS. Don’t know how else they found her.”
“Brantley couldn't use his own GPS to find his way home from two blocks away,” Max said with an eye roll.
She was protective of Caroline, built Caroline up, could spar with Spencer, and didn't like Brantley. Max was now one of Zander's favorite people.
“So why do you think he showed up?” Zander asked her.
“I have no idea,” Max said. She looked at Caroline. “He's never acted like this before. Did you come across something else? Something bigger?”
Caroline shook her head. “Nothing new since the stuff I showed you.”
“Hold on,” Spencer said. “You know about all of this? The animals and everything?”
Max looked totally offended. “I told you I'm her best friend. She tells me everything.”
“Except when she leaves the bed and breakfast last minute with Zander,” Spencer said. With a smirk.
Max glared at him. Then she swung to Caroline. “And when you run away from your own wedding.”
“I didn’t have time!” Caroline protested.
“You weren't there?” Spencer asked.
“It was a surprise wedding,” Max told him.
“So? Wouldn't her family invite her best friend?”
The women shared a look. Then Caroline said, “My family doesn't know about Max.”
“Why not? Are you and Max secretly lovers?” Spencer asked.
Max rolled her eyes and muttered, “Jesus.”
Caroline laughed out loud. “No. We’ve been friends since we were kids. But we kept it a secret. My family…”
Max tossed her long ponytail when Caroline trailed off. She looked up at Spencer, her hand back on her hip. “I'm from the wrong side of the tracks. They would never have approved of her hanging out with me. So we kept it on the down low. Made it a lot easier for her to sneak around with me and tell me all these secrets anyway. They’ve never suspected that Maxine Clermont, the woman who keeps breaking open the stories about their friends’ corruption, embezzlement, and criminal activities is actually their daughter’s best friend.”
“You write under a pen name?”
“Maxine is my real name. Clermont is my stepdad’s name. It’s not my legal name but a lot of people assume it is. But it sounds like an older white lady with a bone to pick with old white men abusing their power, doesn’t it?” She seemed pleased.
Spencer just studied her for several ticks. Then asked, “Do I need to do a background check on you?”