Waking Up Married(73)

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.