Then I noticed he wasn’t paying a lot of attention, he was getting out the butter and jelly. This was disappointing since it came to me that I wanted him to like me in my new, cute, little, Colorado adventure nightgown. I didn’t normally wear nightgowns. I usually wore mostly what he was wearing except in girl style.

His eyes came to me and he called, “Hello? Nina?”

My body jolted and I asked, “What?”

He grinned and asked back, “Baby, you awake?”

“Um…”

“Sit down.”

“But –”

“Sit down.”

“All right,” I muttered, thinking that was a good idea and walked out of the kitchen and to a stool. Then I sat down.

The toast came up, Max pulled out a plate, put the toast on it, buttered it (with far more butter than necessary) and then put jelly on it (with a considerable amount of jelly, but I wasn’t complaining).

Then he turned and slid the plate in front of me and went back to the coffeepot.

“Nina, the bluff?” he asked.

“Sorry?”

He poured coffee in a mug, spooned in a sugar and went to the fridge, pulling out the milk then he said, “I want you to come with me to the bluff.”

“What bluff?” I asked, my eyes on what he was doing, the toast close to my mouth, I took a bite.

Grape jelly. Ambrosia.

“Edge of my land, I want you to see it,” he said, splashing milk into the mug, doing a swirl with a spoon and then turning to me and setting it in front of me.

I lost my concentration on the conversation and stared at the coffee Max set on the counter.

Once. He’d poured me coffee once. And he knew how I took it.

Niles had done it a hundred times and he never bothered to remember.

“Jesus, Nina,” Max said and it sounded like he was laughing through the words.

I shook my head and looked at him to see he was, indeed, laughing through the words.

“What’s funny?” I asked.

“You. You’re a zombie in the morning.”

I felt my brows draw together and I said, “No, I’m not.”

His response: “Babe,” and then a grin.

He turned to the coffeepot, poured another mug, black, no sugar, sipped it and slid some more bread in the toaster.

“Dress warm,” he said, turning back to me and leaning his hips against the counter, “and bring your camera if you got one.”

“My camera?”

“Views at the bluff, you’ll want a photo.”

I decided I needed caffeine so I dropped my toast, grabbed my mug, took a sip then another one because Max made good coffee.

Was I going to some bluff with him?

No, I was not.

Yet, I kind of wanted to. I’d never been to a bluff in the Colorado Mountains. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been to any bluff anywhere. Actually, I wasn’t entirely certain what a bluff was.

And I was on an adventure, wasn’t I? I was living my life, clearing the cobwebs, experiencing new things. I could move to the hotel in town or drive to Denver after Max showed me his bluff.

“All right,” I said on another sip of my coffee and then I took another bite of the delicious buttery, jellied toast.

Okay, so I was being an idiot. I could be an idiot for a few hours to see a bluff. Then after allowing myself to be an idiot, I could go back to being a smart, sane, rational person again. But being smart, sane and rational was boring, I’d been doing that for awhile and I could use a break, so I was going to give myself one.

“That was easy,” Max commented and I took another bite of toast and looked at him.

I chewed, swallowed and asked, “What?”

He shook his head slowly and muttered, “Nothin’ darlin’.”

Then he took a sip from his coffee and his eyes went over my shoulder, his brows drew together and I watched his body get tight.

It was a fascinating, even thrilling, but somewhat scary sight to see. He had a powerful body and seeing it come alert like that in an instant was remarkable.

“What the fuck?” he murmured and I dragged my eyes away from his body, turned on my stool, toast in hand, and looked out the window.

Parking by the Cherokee was an army green SUV, police lights at the top, big star insignia on the door.

At the sight, I, too, felt my body get tight.

“Is that the police?” I asked, even though it obviously was.

“Yeah,” Max said softly but I could hear he was on the move.

A man got out of the SUV, jeans, heavy flannel shirt, padded vest, cowboy boots, badge and gun on his belt. He was average height, salt in his pepper hair, a bit of a beer belly growing over his mammoth belt buckle but he still looked fit. He gazed up at the A-Frame and then headed up the stairs.

Max had the door open before he got there. I stayed frozen on my stool watching this play out.

“Mick,” Max greeted the man.

“Max,” the man greeted back, walking in through the open door.

“What’s up?” Max asked.

Mick’s eyes came to me and it was then too slowly I realized I was in a little, pale pink nightgown.

He looked back to Max apparently unsurprised Max had a woman in a little, pale pink nightgown sitting at a stool by his kitchen and he announced, “Something’s happened.”

Max shut the door on the cold air, straightened, planted his feet and crossed his arms on his chest before he asked, “What?”

Mick cleared his throat and his eyes came to me.

“That’s Nina Sheridan,” Max told him.

“Hey there, Miss Sheridan,” Mick said to me.

I decided not to correct him about the “Miss” and instead invited, “Please call me Nina.”

“All right, Nina,” Mick returned with an uncomfortable smile which made me, already ill at ease because of a morning visit from a police officer, more so.

“What’s up?” Max asked again and I wondered if I should run upstairs, put on a cardigan, my robe, maybe some jeans, a snowsuit (though, I didn’t have one of those).

Mick walked further into the house in my direction but turned back to Max.

“Gotta ask you a few questions,” he said and I decided not to go get dressed. The way he said that, I decided to stay right where I was.

“What questions?” Max asked, also walking in but he came direct to me, positioning himself behind my stool so close I could feel his warmth at my back.

Mick took this as an invitation to come in further and he did, stopping about three feet away.

“Gotta know where you were last night around two, three in the mornin’,” Mick said.

I felt myself still and I stared at Mick noting he was uncomfortable and not hiding it.

“What’s this about?” Max asked and I could tell by his voice he was not happy and also not hiding it.

“Just answer, Max,” Mick said softly.

“In bed,” Max said, his gravelly voice curt and Mick’s eyes darted to me then back to Max.

“Asleep?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Max answered.

“Sorry, Nina,” Mick’s gaze came back to me, his eyes dropping to my nightgown for the barest of seconds before coming back to my face and he continued. “Could you corroborate that?”

“What’s this about?” Max repeated.

But at the same time I said quickly, “Yes, I can.”

“You sure?” Mick asked me.

“Of course I’m sure,” I said firmly.

“Were you asleep too?” Mick pressed and my back straightened.

“Mick,” Max was obviously losing patience, “what the fuck’s this about?”

But again I spoke quickly. “No, I wasn’t asleep.” Mick opened his mouth to speak but I kept talking. “I’m here from England, I’ve got jetlag. I woke up around two in the morning, nine o’clock my time, and stayed awake until dawn. Max was with me the whole time.”

Mick’s face and body visibly relaxed, relief washing through him and he nodded.

“Now you wanna tell me what this is about?” Max’s patience was gone, he sounded angry.

Mick’s eyes moved to him. “Curtis Dodd was killed early this mornin’.”

I heard Max pull in breath and even though I didn’t know who Curtis Dodd was, I felt my eyes get wide.

“You’re shittin’ me,” Max said quietly.

“Wish I was,” Mick replied.

Then Max asked, “Murdered?”

“Yep,” Mick answered.

“And you come to visit me?” Max didn’t sound angry anymore, he just was. I heard it and felt it.

“Now Max, just procedure. Everyone knows you don’t get along with Dodd.” Mick’s tone was placating.

“Yeah, neither does most of the town,” Max returned.

“Yeah, that’s why I got deputies visiting a lotta folk. You’re my third this mornin’,” Mick explained.

Well, at least that was something.

“What happened?” I asked in order to turn the conversation and hopefully diffuse the situation.

“Dodd was shot,” Mick answered.

“Where?” Max asked.

“His house, guy broke in,” Mick answered.

Max came closer, his body touching my back and I could feel something strange coming from him.

“Where was Bitsy?” Max went on, his voice cautious or maybe concerned.

“Visitin’ her sister, she don’t like the spring break tourist season. Too many kids, teenagers gettin’ sloshed.” I felt something coming from Max, I didn’t know what it was but it was also coming from Mick. He was uncomfortable again for some reason that was different than before and he hurried on. “You know she goes down to Arizona for a coupla months every March and April.”

I felt Max relax before he asked, “Who found him then?”

Mick shifted on his feet and I knew he would have adjusted his collar if he didn’t think it would give him away.

“Dodd wasn’t exactly alone,” Mick muttered.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Max muttered back but his mutter was clipped and annoyed. “Shauna.”

Surprise hit me and I looked at Mick nodding then over my shoulder at Max’s hard, angry face.

“Shauna said he heard the break in and went to investigate then she heard the shots. Lucky for her, seems the killer didn’t know she was there, just did Dodd and then took off. Hearin’ the shots, she was scared shitless. Took her awhile to get her shit together to leave the bedroom, find Dodd then call it in. She was pretty shaken up. Still is.”

“Bet she is,” Max muttered like he did indeed bet she was and he didn’t give a damn.

“What about Harry? I thought she was with Harry,” I asked stupidly, looking over my shoulder at Max and his eyes came to me then his hand came to my waist and he gave me a squeeze. He didn’t have to answer, that was answer enough. Shauna was stepping out on goofy, sweet Harry. Then I whispered, “Poor Harry.”

“Yeah, poor Harry,” Max replied, his voice quiet.

I looked back at Mick and added, “And poor um… Curtis Dodd.”

Mick examined me a second then his face split in a genuine, amused grin before his gaze shifted up to Max.

“Nina’s new around here, I’m guessin’,” he noted.

“Yeah,” Max answered.

“I’m sorry?” I asked and Mick looked at me.

“There’s about two people in a four county area that’d say, at learnin’ the news that Curtis Dodd was murdered, ‘Poor Curtis Dodd’. You and Shauna. You because you don’t know him, Shauna because she was sleepin’ with him.”

“Oh,” I mumbled and wondered about Curtis Dodd.

“You want coffee?” Max asked and Mick shook his head.

“Gonna be a busy day, gotta get on my way.”

“You have a travel mug in your truck?” I asked and Mick looked at me.

“Yeah,” he said.

“If you’ll go get it, we’ll give you a warm up.”

Mick’s face changed, his eyes cut to Max then back to me. He smiled and said softly, “Be kind of you.”

“Well, not really. Max made the coffee though I think he used coffee from my grocery stash. I’m finding Max isn’t good with grocery boundaries.”

A short, surprised laugh escaped Mick as his eyes shot to Max.

Max moved to my side and slung an arm around my shoulders, noting, “You’ll find, Mick, that Nina’s somethin’ else.”

My head tipped back and I looked at Max. “What does that mean?”

“Relax, Duchess,” Max grinned at me, “it was a compliment.”

“It didn’t sound like one,” I retorted.

He bent at the waist and his face got close. “Well, it was.”

Mick cleared his throat and I decided to let it go. It was rude, arguing in front of other people, especially people you didn’t know.

I looked at Mick and prompted, “Your travel mug, officer?”

“Call me Mick.”

I doubted I’d ever see him again but on a smile I said courteously, “All right, Mick.”