Some Like It Hot by Susan Andersen Page B

warning just last week after pulling him over for doing fifty on Orilla Road. Anyone who’d lived here longer than a month knew it was posted at thirty-five—and Conner was a Razor Bay native. Still, the kid hadn’t begged special consideration. He had, in fact, given Max zero attitude—handing over his license with a respectful maturity Max saw in damn few adults in the same situation. Fifteen over the limit generally guaranteed the offender a ticket, but Max had cut the young man some slack.
    It was just too rare that he didn’t have to listen to a load of bullshit at traffic stops.
    Austin muscled his way past the postmistress in line behind Max. “Sorry, Ms. Verkins,” he said. “I’m not trying to cut—I just wanna say hi to my uncle.”
    Conner repaid Max now by quietly sliding the condoms into a paper bag before counting out his change. Max gave him an appreciative nod before turning to his nephew. “Hey, buddy. What are you guys up to?” He steered the boy out of the line.
    “I’m spending the night at Nolan’s, and Dad brought me here to get some Flamin’ Hot Cheetos to take. They don’t carry ’em at the General Store.”
    Max shook his head. “That’s criminal.”
    “Tell me about it. You oughtta go arrest ’em.”
    “Max isn’t wearing his Deputy Dawg suit,” Jake said, “so that probably won’t happen tonight. And it’s Friday, bud—everyone and their brother’s getting their weekend supplies. You better make sure they haven’t sold out of the Flamin’ Hots here.”
    “Better not have!” Austin hustled toward the chip aisle.
    Jake turned to Max. “Got yourself a cool hat—” he gave Max’s Brixton classic fedora a nod of approval “—and a big box of Trojan Supras. Hot date?”
    “Jesus, you must have eyes like a raptor. How the hell could you tell what brand I bought from the door?”
    “Recognize the box.” Jake grinned at him. “Who you going out with?”
    “No one, yet. But I’m heading over to The Voodoo Lounge, hoping to change my luck.” A quick visual of Harper slammed through him, but he firmly shut it down before it could etch itself into his brain like acid. One fun day out on the water with her hardly stepped him up into her league.
    Jake looked at him in surprise. “You like to dance?”
    “Sure. Don’t you?”
    “I like slow dancing. I’m not too crazy about the fast shit, though.”
    “Yeah.” Max nodded. “It’s guys like you who leave the field wide open for me. Ladies just love them a man who likes to dance.” He gave his brother a cocky smile. “Not that you’d be any competition even if you could dance.”
    “Hey, I can dance!” His response sounded like the knee-jerk defensiveness of their enemy days. But then Jake shot Max a crooked smile. “Okay, not well, but I can dance.”
    “Dad!” Austin ran up, a bag of his favored chips in his hand and a look on his face as if the world were ending. “I told Nolan I’d bring my new video game and I forgot it at home!”
    “Not a problem,” Jake said easily. “It’s not like we have to go miles out of our way to swing by the house.” Reaching out, he hooked his elbow around his son’s neck, hauled him in and gave him a noogy. “Let’s get in line and pay for your grub.”
    Max suffered a fierce stab of wanting what Jake had with his son. He cleared the lump of envy from his throat. “I’ll see you two later,” he said. “Have fun at Nolan’s, kid.”
    Austin grinned. “I’m gonna.”
    “You have a good time, yourself,” Jake said. He tipped his chin at the bag in Max’s hand. “Happy hunting.”
    The teen looked Max over. “You’re going hunting? In your good clothes?” He shook his head. “Man. If it was me doing that, Jenny’d have something to say about it.”
    Max laughed. “Your dad was being funny. I’m going to a club in Silverdale to dance.”
    “And no one’s making ya?”
    “Nope. I like to dance.”
    “Huh. I thought guys only pretended they