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I cocked my head, searching his face for a sign of a lie, but I didn’t see one. He actually believed that it shouldn’t have happened. I stepped around him and grabbed the back of the chair so I could shift it.
“What are you doing?” he asked, but before he could figure it out, I was climbing onto his lap, our chests almost touching as I stared into his surprised blue eyes. “Maggie, get off my lap.”
“No. You didn’t force anything last night, Greg. I wanted you as much as you wanted me. I still do.”
He swallowed, and I watched his Adam’s apple bounce. I ran my hands over his shoulders, brushing my fingers against the short hair at the nape of his neck. “Maggie, get off my lap.”
“Why? You want me, Greg. I know you do.”
“Of course, I want you, Maggie, but this isn’t a good idea.”
“Why is that? Because you can’t give me what I want?” I leaned forward, resting my chest to his, and brought my mouth close to his ear. “You can give me what I want, Gregory.”
“Maggie, please get off my lap.” His voice was hoarse as if he were struggling.
I nipped at his ear, then flicked the tip with my tongue, and his hands spanned the sides of my waist. “I want this, Greg. I want you.”
“I’m going to ask you one more time, Maggie. Please get off my lap.”
I kissed along his jaw, then back to his ear, and down his neck as I pulled his face to the side. He sucked in a sharp breath, and his hands tightened on my sides as he shifted his hips up against me, holding me tightly against him.
“Maggie.” His voice was slightly strangled, and I clamped my teeth down on his neck. A second later, my feet were touching the floor as he stood and shoved me away. “No! Maggie, I told you I couldn’t give you what you wanted! This is not going to happen again. It was a mistake to have let it happen last night.”
“You are so full of shit, Greg! I’m tired of hearing that you can’t give me what I want. You don’t even know what the hell I want!”
“Yeah, well, whatever it is, I can’t give it to you.”
I growled my frustration as I spun away from him. “I’m going to bed. There is a blanket on the back of the sofa. You can sleep there.”
He grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop, and I was hoping that it was to say he was wrong, and he did want me. “You’ll have to work from home. You won’t be able to go into the paper.”
I laughed, and it was a bit hysterical sounding even to my own ears. I think part of it was fueled by unrequited desire, the other, fear of what was happening in my life. “Work? Ha! I don’t have a job anymore. I quit today, remember? Good night, Greg.”
I yanked my arm out of his grip before he could say another word and rushed from the room. Let him turn the rest of the lights off. I needed to put distance between us as tears began to fill my eyes.
In my room, I went straight to the bathroom and turned on the shower. As I stripped off my clothes, the tears began to fall, but it wasn’t until I was under the stream of water that I bowed my head and sobbed into my hands.
My life spun around in my mind, twisting and twirling like a tornado about to unleash fury. People had been killed; who was next? The rat was a warning; was I next? I wanted Greg with every ounce of my soul, but he pushed me away. My mother—my mother—if something happened to her because of me! I shuddered, even though the water was hot. Now I didn’t have a job, but that was almost the least of my worries. If I didn’t have a life, what good would a job do?
I stood in the shower and cried for a few minutes. I never was a huge crier. If I got to that point, and it was rare, I’d explode, sob for a few minutes, and then suck it back up. I washed and conditioned my hair, shaved my legs, and then got out and did my nightly moisturizing routine on my face. Being almost forty, I was starting to see fine lines creeping up around my eyes.
As I rubbed in my moisturizer, Greg’s face came to mind, and the many creases around his eyes. His years of being out in the sun, playing havoc with his skin. Unlike mine, which irritated me, his were attractive, and more than once, I’d noted them when he laughed or smiled.
Did he notice mine? Did he care? What did he think that I really wanted? Was he talking about marriage? Kids? My career? I honestly didn’t have any idea what it was that he thought I wanted. Maybe I could find a way to ask him. Not tonight, but maybe tomorrow when the sun was up and I wasn’t still buzzing.
I climbed in bed, rolling to my side and trying not to think about the man downstairs. What was he doing? Was he lying there thinking of me? Was he thinking about someone else? Wait, was he involved with someone else? Was that why he didn’t want to get involved with me? Is that why he said that it had been a mistake?
Maybe that was the reason. Maybe Greg was seeing someone, and my showing up in his life had thrown him off-kilter a bit. I smiled to myself as I closed my eyes.
When Greg and I were young, there wasn’t a girl around that could have gotten him away from me. I had never once worried about him cheating on me. I knew without a doubt that I was his everything, which is why it had hurt like hell to be replaced by Uncle Sam.
But Greg was back, and if he were with someone else, I’d find a way to remind him that I was the girl he loved and that he could still love me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gregory
Well, fuck! I put my hands on my hips and scowled at the floor after Maggie raced from the room. The woman had no clue what she did to me, and pushing her away from me had been hard as hell.
