“Backhanded her at The Dog,” Max answered.
“Fuckin’ dick,” Jeff muttered then looked at me. “Uh… sorry.”
“That’s okay as, last night, he proved your estimation of him to be true,” I said to Jeff and for some reason my remark received three man chuckles which made the spring coiling in my stomach relax. If their visit was bad for Max, I doubted they’d be chuckling.
“Heard there was a disturbance at The Dog last night,” Mick commented.
“Damon make a complaint?” Max asked and I tensed.
“Nope, word I hear, enough folks witnessed the hit to his manhood, I’m thinkin’ he’s not gonna be big on spreadin’ that word,” Mick replied and I relaxed.
“You f**k him up?” Jeff asked Max with an edge of enthusiasm then he again turned to me and muttered. “Uh… sorry again.”
I smiled my “I’m okay with the f-word” to Jeff but even as I did I was feeling uncertain if Max should brag about parking lot fisticuffs at The Dog to policemen and I opened my mouth to speak but Max got there before me.
“Got a few in, best part, Nina shoved him and he went back at least five feet,” Max replied.
There were more man chuckles at the idea of me shoving Damon and I wasn’t certain how to take this but decided to let it go and change the subject.
“Does anyone want coffee?” I asked and Max squeezed my shoulder.
“Love a cup,” Mick replied and Jeff nodded.
I started to move away and as I did so Max muttered, “Thanks, baby.”
I liked these two words and how he said them so much, without thinking, I glanced over my shoulder and gave him a small smile then went to the coffeepot.
“Mindy okay?” Jeff asked when I grabbed the pot and moved to the sink.
“Hangin’ in there,” Max answered.
“She shot of Matthews now?” Jeff continued with more than a hint of curiosity and I turned off the tap and moved to the coffeemaker, looking him over.
He was taller than Damon, lighter hair, leaner of build but fit and perhaps not as overtly good-looking he was also not unattractive in the slightest. In fact, since he was more obviously comfortable with who he was and how he looked instead of being in your face about it as Damon was, he was more attractive.
Hmm.
“I’m thinkin’, yeah,” Max said but when I looked at him he was also studying Jeff closely.
“Good news,” Jeff mumbled and I lifted the top to the coffeemaker and poured the water in.
“So, Bitsy’s home?” Max was obviously bringing the conversation full circle.
“Yeah,” Mick answered.
“And you’re here…” Max prompted and Mick lifted a hand to the back of his neck.
“Wouldn’t ask –” he started.
“You need me,” Max cut him off, his words mysterious.
Mick dropped his arm and I turned my attention to the cupboards, finding the gourmet coffee I bought in Denver in the second one I opened.
“Yeah, Max. I know –” Mick said.
Max interrupted again. “She doin’ okay?”
“Murdered, cheatin’ husband and life ahead of her in a wheelchair, all alone?” Mick asked then answered, “No.”