Bloody Connor Grey. What the fuck did the man want with Maggie at this time of the night?
He knew they were friends and resented their closeness. He wasn’t stupid enough to let her know, but after they married, he’d push Grey out of Maggie’s life. Let him know Maggie didn’t want him hanging around.
Greg hesitated, not wanting Connor to see him. They’d had their usual niggles on the rugby field tonight and Greg had decked him. Connor had a fat lip in the changing rooms after practice.It would look worse tomorrow at work. Bastard had it coming. Way Greg saw it, he still had a few free shots coming as payback for his black eye.
Connor entered the apartment building, and Greg decided to go for a coffee. He’d grab a takeout and come back to wait for Connor to leave. Maggie would send him on his way soon enough. She liked to have early nights during the week and was in bed by ten.
Fifteen minutes later, Greg returned. Connor’s car was still parked outside. Greg sipped his coffee and watched the lights in Maggie’s lounge on the second floor. They flicked off and he straightened, moving into the shadows so Connor didn’t see him when he left. Maggie’s bedroom light flicked on, and he saw her wander over to pull the curtains. Another shadow walked up behind her, and the two blended into one.
Greg blinked, unsure if he’d imagined that or not. The next instant the curtains shut off his view. What the hell?
Were Maggie and Grey involved? Nah. He shook his head and glanced at the window again. He waited for an hour, his fury increasing with every passing minute.
Connor didn’t come out again.
“What’s wrong, babe?” Connor had thought he might find an excuse to spank her again, because he’d kinda enjoyed it last time. One look at her face made him change his mind. “Are you okay?” The words emerged a little weird because of his fat lip.
“I should be the one asking that. What happened to your lip?”
“A tackle at training,” he said, making light of the truth. Greg had punched him on purpose. Not that he intended to tell tales. They’d work it out, either on the field or off.
“And you had your face in the wrong place?”
Her teasing note made him smile. That sounded better. When she’d first opened the door she’d looked like a whipped puppy. “Something like that.”
“I’m tired,” Maggie said.
“So am I.” His ribs hurt like hell. Greg had managed two good shots before their team mates had separated them. Connor wasn’t about to involve Maggie in the middle of their petty squabble. “Can I sleep here the night? Hold you?”
“I thought we were about sex.”
“We’re friends.” He hated the note of vulnerability in her voice. It made his chest ache. “Maggie, what’s the problem?”
“I have a guilty conscience.”
“Why?” Connor caught her hand and tugged her to him. “Tell me.”
“We’re sneaking around behind our friends’ backs. Lying to them.”
“Babe, our private arrangement is none of their business, but we can tell the girls if it makes you feel better.”
“We can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“Never mind. I’m going to bed.”
“Am I staying tonight?”
She shrugged. “Whatever.”
Connor stood, indecisive for a few seconds. Women. They confused the hell out of him. But one thing was clear. If he walked away now, she might not let him back into her life. Not his plan. Soon, he’d push for more. She was so damn skittish, reminding him of the wild deer that used to graze his grandfather’s land. He followed and wondered why she didn’t want to tell the others about him.
Didn’t she think their relationship would last? Granted he didn’t have a good track record with women, but with Maggie, it was different. She was a friend first. They knew each other, their strengths and weaknesses.
Damn, why did this have to be so difficult?
He walked up behind her as she drew the curtains, pulling her against his chest. At first she stiffened, but she relaxed into him quickly enough to mollify his pique. He curved his hands around her waist, enjoying her warmth, her softness. Her old-fashioned lavender scent.
