His bed.
Not a cruise ship.
So what was with the sudden, violent pitch— Oh, hell!
“Yep. Bucket’s right over the side, champ,” Jeff stated, using his leg to shove him in the opposite direction. “Knock yourself out.”
Thirty minutes later, Connor was showered and dressed. Minty freshness doing its best to disguise the funky aftermath of a night misspent.
What had he been thinking?
Dragging himself into the kitchen, Connor dropped into a chair at the table and hazarded a glance at Jeff, who was cooking steak and eggs, a smug smile on his smug face.
“Not to suggest I wasn’t thrilled to find you in my bed this morning, but what are you doing here?”
A smug flip of the spatula. Damn him.
“My phone’s on the table. There’s a voice mail that gets the ball rolling, but I think the texts cover the gist of it pretty well. See for yourself.”
The churning mess that was his stomach solidified into a lead ball. Oh, hell. Thumbing through the messages, the lead ball grew with each exchange.
8:42 p.m....REED: Need you to go to Denver w me.
8:46 p.m....JEFF: In meeting. Give me 1 hr.
8:53 p.m....REED: No can do. Want wife back. Going now. Think I cn talk her into it wth sperm.
Hell. Please don’t let him have called her.
8:53 p.m....JEFF: R U drinking?
8:55 p.m....REED: Have wht she wants. Solllid plan. Better than hers.
8:56 p.m....JEFF: Leaving now. Wait 4 me.
9:02 p.m....REED: Don’t worry botu it.
9:02 p.m....JEFF: WAIT 4 ME
9:04 p.m....JEFF: PICK UP YOUR PHONE
9:57 p.m....JEFF: You should stop for drink @ that bar in terminal with the big olives B4 flight
10:22 p.m....REED: Hey, UR at the bar. You look pissed.
Connor looked up at his friend. His very best friend in the entire world. “How did you do it?”
“Luck mostly. And some cash. Called your car service and got a guy ready to block your driveway—just in case. I know you don’t drink and drive, but, well, you weren’t exactly yourself. When you called for a ride, he was already there. Drove you to the airport, the very long way. Meanwhile, I took the chopper down and picked you up at the bar.”
“And you stayed with me...in my bed...to make sure I didn’t drown in my own puke?” Pushing a hand through his hair, he shook his head. This was a low like he’d never expected to see.
“Yeah, but mostly to keep you from calling Megan, dumbass. By the way, your phone met with a bit of bad luck when a meat tenderizer fell on it last night. Sorry.”
Jeff slid a plate of steak and eggs in front of him and dropped into Megan’s chair at the table, diving into a plate of his own. “So what’s the deal?” he asked around a bite of eggs.
Nothing’s changed...
“She’s planning to get pregnant.”
“Ah, and you thought you’d help her out. Right. Only, I’m wondering, if she didn’t want you to get her pregnant before, then where did you think your swimmers were going to get you last night?”
“If I had to guess, I probably figured I could talk her into reconsidering. Make her see what I could offer her. What she was giving up.”
“And that would be the material comforts. Financial security?”
Connor grunted. “At least someone sees it.”
“Yeah, I see something. But I’m not sure it’s the same thing as you.”
He wasn’t in the mood to decipher hidden meaning or subtle subtexts. “Spit it out.”
Jeff shook his head, the lines between his brows drawing together. “Ask yourself this, Connor—what is it that’s got your manties in such a twist? I mean, really...what is it about Megan you don’t want to lose?”
Connor opened his mouth to answer, ready to explain about how right they were together. How easy it was. Only, suddenly, he could see the past few months with a clarity he’d never had before, and a tension, different than the one he’d already become so intimate with, slid down his spine.