Midnight Encounters (7 page)

“Wayne, she’s trying to tell you it’s not manly,” the man’s female companion grumbled. “Order a beer, for God’s sake.”

Wayne set his jaw. “I’m having a daiquiri, Jeannine.”

The duo began arguing about masculine versus feminine drinks, and Maggie slinked away, the bickering couple all but forgotten as she resumed her mental list of reasons to tell Ben to get lost.

Two, she didn’t even know him. He was famous, sure, but not to her. How could she be sure he wasn’t an axe murderer who hid behind his celebrity status while he hacked silly waitresses to pieces?

There, try to challenge that one
, she told that little voice in her head. The voice stayed quiet, but Maggie could tell it was unfazed.

She headed for the counter, still deep in thought.

Three, he was arrogant.

And then there was reason number four—he was a good kisser.

And why is this bad?

Well, because his high-caliber kissing skills would be nothing but a distraction. She didn’t have time for distractions. Her exams were coming up. She needed to study. Needed to focus. Needed…

Sex.

She mentally chided her hormones for raising their voice, but she had to admit they brought up a good point. First, her night with Tony hadn’t panned out, then she’d found herself in Ben’s bed—which had only deepened that sexual ache—and now, after the hot kiss he’d planted on her outside, the ache was even worse.

“You look busy.”

Maggie glanced up in surprise as Summer approached the counter. Setting a martini glass down on her tray, she pushed all thoughts of Ben and sex and sex with Ben out of her mind, and smiled at her roommate.

“Hey! What brings you here?”

“I came to say goodbye.”

“You’re not leaving ’til Monday.”

Summer shrugged and ran a hand through her stick-straight blonde hair. “Yeah, but I’ll be at Tygue’s tonight and tomorrow, so I figured I’d say goodbye now.”

Looking around, Maggie spotted Linda and met the older woman’s eyes. “Break?” she mouthed. She gestured to Summer, who’d been Linda’s pet when she’d waitressed at the bar.

With a nod, Linda waved at Summer, then held up five fingers, indicating the number of minutes Maggie could steal away for. Normally she never took unscheduled breaks, but since Summer was here, she might as well squeeze some advice out of her level-headed friend.

They headed for the employee lounge in the back, where Maggie flopped down on the ugly plaid couch and reached down to rub her sore ankles. “You’re so lucky you quit,” she grumbled, dreading how much worse her feet would feel when her shift finally ended.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your degree soon and leave this place too.” Summer leaned against the arm of the couch and eyed her expectantly. “So what’s up? Did you bring me back here for a private goodbye kiss?”

“I need your help.”

“What’d you do?”

“Nothing,” Maggie said, insulted. “I just need you to talk me out of something.” Oh God, was this how close she’d come to agreeing to Ben’s request? She’d thought she’d done a good job sifting through the cons, that when she saw him again after work the word “no” would fly out of her mouth as easy as the bad notes flew from Summer’s drum.

Why was her resolve faltering now?

“Remember my stranger from last night?” she said with a sigh.

Summer grinned. “How could I forget?”

“Well, he’s no longer a stranger. He showed up today.”

A gasp came barreling out of Summer’s throat. “No! He actually tracked you down? Why?”

“He said he wanted to see me.”

“Well, that’s nice of him.”

She stared at her friend. “You don’t find that the least bit strange?”

“Strange? No. I think it’s kind of sweet.”

Maggie snorted. “Trust me. He’s not sweet. He’s arrogant and presumptuous and—”

“You like him.”

She replied with a dirty look and a stubborn silence.

“Is it so bad, actually liking someone?” Summer teased. “Just go on a date with him, see what happens.”

“He doesn’t want a date,” she said through clenched teeth. “He wants to have a sleepover.”

“A sleepover? You mean—ohhhh.” Summer’s eyes lit up. “So what the hell are you grumbling about?

You said he was gorgeous, you two had chemistry, why not dub him the new Tony?”

“Because he’s
not
Tony. He’s demanding and complicated.”

“So maybe you need demanding and complicated. When was the last time you got involved with a guy without calling the shots?” Summer frowned. “I get you have goals, Mags, but that’s no reason to stop having fun. If I were you, I’d totally be up for a sleepover.” Summer stood up and smoothed down the front of her pink A-line skirt. “I’ve gotta go. Tygue’s waiting for me outside.”

“What?” Maggie shot to her feet. “You can’t go. You never talked me out of anything.”

“And I don’t intend to.” Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Summer headed for the door.

“Wait,” she called after her friend. “One more thing.”

With a sigh, Summer turned around. “What now?”

“Do you know anything about an actor named Ben Barrett?”

“Hmmm…I think he was in that movie Tygue and I rented last week. He played this ex-SWAT member who had to save an old flame from a group of arms dealers.”

“Is he an axe murderer?”

“What? No. I just told you, he played a SWAT—”

“Not the character. The actor.” Maggie knew she was grasping at straws. “Have you ever heard anything about him being dangerous?”

“Why on earth are you asking me this?”

“Um, Trisha. She thought she saw him on the news for whacking someone.” Dear God, was she this desperate to find a reason not to let Ben stay at her place?

“Whacking? Oh, you mean, like mafia or something?” Summer chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t think so. Only thing I know about the guy is that women love him.” Wonderful.

“You want my advice, Mags?” Summer added. “Stop thinking about Trisha and movie stars, and have sex with your stranger already. You know you want to, so quit griping and just do it.”

“Just do it,” she muttered to herself. “Like the condom ad.”

“Nike.”

“Huh?”

“Shoes, Maggie!” Summer’s eyes darkened with disbelief. “That does it. You’re so absorbed with work and school that you’ve lost touch with the rest of the world. Look, do me favor and spend some time with a man who won’t fly to Fiji the second he zips up his pants. Tygue and I will be gone for a week, so maybe take advantage of that empty apartment and allow a few complications to murk up your life, okay? It’ll be good for you.”

Women didn’t say no to Ben Barrett.

It was simply one of those delicious facts of life that Ben had come to accept over the years. He was fifteen when he first realized the power he had over women. Fifteen when a few friends dared him to ask the most popular senior girl in school to the freshman prom, and not only had Ben walked into the high school gym with the hottest girl on his arm, but he’d also lost his virginity that night.

Needless to say, he wasn’t surprised when Maggie walked out of the bar at two a.m. and gestured for him to follow her.

Oh yeah, he still had a way with the ladies. They just couldn’t say no.

Yet while this fiery redhead was no exception, she
was
the first female he’d encountered who had the nerve to look less than pleased with her decision to say yes.

“I’m not going to stay at your place if you sulk all night,” he said, keeping his stride casual as he followed her down the sidewalk.

It was late, and the Saturday night crowds had finally started to disperse. In the distance, a thin mist shrouded the buildings and skyscrapers, and the spring air was chilled, causing Ben to zip up his leather jacket. When he glanced over at Maggie, he was pleased to see her nipples poking against the thin bra under the blue long-sleeved shirt she now wore. She’d also changed into a pair of snug blue jeans and tied her long red hair into a low ponytail, which made her seem younger.

If it weren’t for the frown on her face, she might have looked a little sweeter too.

“I’m not sulking,” she replied, the frown deepening.

“Sure you are.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and cocked his head at her. “I actually find it quite insulting.”

She stopped walking. “You want to know what’s insulting? You assuming you can waltz into my life and expect me to agree to whatever tickles your fancy.”

He lifted a brow. “Considering we’re on the way to your apartment, I’d say that wasn’t a bad assumption.”

Her cheeks turned bright red. “The only reason I’m letting you stay over is because I feel sorry for you,” she huffed.

A laugh trickled out of his mouth. “Sure, babe. If you say so.” They fell into step again, Ben still chuckling to himself and Maggie apparently using silence as punishment for his amusement. He wondered how she’d react if he told her he viewed her silence as a reward. If he told her she was the first woman who didn’t chatter his ear off. Or coddle him. Or try to seduce him to further her own ambitions.

Not that he didn’t like being seduced. Every now and then, however, he liked the challenge of doing the seducing himself, a rare feat, considering most women were ready to fuck him before he even asked.

Hell, these days he didn’t even have to ask.

“This is it,” Maggie said, finally breaking the drawn-out silence as they came to a stop in front of an older-looking high-rise with large balconies.

She used a key to get into the lobby, then headed for the elevator without looking back to see if he was following. It was kinda cute, the way she pretended she was doing him a favor by letting him come home with her. He knew better, of course. The way she’d trembled against him during the kiss they’d shared earlier proved the attraction between them was so very mutual.

“So how long have you lived here?” he asked casually as they stepped into the elevator car.

Maggie shot him a dirty look. “Don’t make small talk.”

Taken aback, he said, “Why not?”

“Because you’re only wasting time.” The doors opened with a loud buzzing noise, and Maggie whisked out of the car, over her shoulder adding, “Neither of us has any illusions about why you’re here.” Again her words startled him, so much so that the elevator nearly closed on his toes. He pushed forward before the doors shut and hurried after Maggie. Another first, having to chase after a woman.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He caught up to her right as she unlocked the door to her apartment and strolled in.

“It means we both know how this night is going to end,” she replied, mocking him with his earlier words.

Any other time Ben would have had a sexy comeback, but the second he entered Maggie’s apartment, he became speechless.

“This is where you live?” he asked, gaping.

“Yeah. Is there a problem?”

There wasn’t a problem, per se, but Ben certainly hadn’t expected these surroundings. If he hadn’t seen Maggie unlock the door, he would’ve thought they were in the wrong apartment.

The place looked like somebody’s grandmother lived in it. Furniture, mostly plaid upholstery, all mismatched. The paintings on the wall depicted bland landscapes and the occasional kitten rolling around in a garden. Frilly pink tablecloths and doilies that looked handmade covered every table in the room, and Ben had to blink a few times to be sure, but he thought he saw photos of Cary Grant and a young Marlon Brando hanging over the television set.

The only item in the apartment that resembled anything modern was the steel drum sitting in the open-concept dining room, but he couldn’t quite figure
that
out either.

When he finished his wide-eyed scrutiny, he glanced over and saw the humor dancing in Maggie’s green eyes.

“C’mon, say it,” she taunted.

“What?”

“How tacky it is. We both know you want to say it.”

He might’ve been living in Hollywood for the last ten years of his life, but he’d grown up in Ohio with a mother who’d instilled good manners in him. “It’s not tacky,” he lied, hoping his tone sounded polite.

“Did you decorate it yourself?”

Laughter bubbled out of her delicate throat. “Wow. Did you learn the art of bullshitting from the film industry or does it just come naturally to you?”

“What? No, I think this place is really something.”

She laughed again, louder this time. “Relax, Ben. I didn’t decorate it. My roommate, Summer, her grandmother owns this place. When she moved, she made Summer promise not to change a thing.” His ears perked. “You have a roommate?”

Maggie’s amused expression quickly transformed into another frown. “Summer’s gone for the week—and she has a boyfriend. So wipe any notion of a threesome out of your head.” How was it humanly possible that she kept catching him off-guard like this?

His nostrils flared as he pondered the best way to respond. Screw good manners. A remark like that merited nothing less than irate indignation.

“You really don’t think much of me, do you?” he returned, steel in his voice.

“I don’t even know you.” Apparently she was just as capable of steely tones.

“You’re right, you don’t.” Eyes narrowing, he added, “The reason I asked about your roommate is because I wanted to make sure we’d be alone.”

“Well, we are.” She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. “So let’s just do this, okay?”

“Do what?”

“Let’s have sex.”

“No thanks.” He unzipped his jacket and shrugged it off his shoulders. “So, should I sleep on the couch or is there a spare room?”

“Excuse me?” She dropped her arms and let them dangle at her sides. “Did you just say ‘no thanks’?” He tossed his jacket on a nearby armchair. “That’s right, I did.” When he met her gaze, she had the gall to look confused. “You don’t want to have sex?”

“Not when you act like it’s a chore.”

Another sigh tumbled out of her mouth, longer this time, and lined with exasperation. “I can’t believe you. You’ve been flirting with me all night, taunting me with how we’re going to end up in bed together, and when I finally give in, you back out. Unbelievable!”

Shaking her head, she stalked past him and flew into the kitchen. A large window had been cut out of the wall, so he could see her every movement as she pulled the fridge door open so hard the items on the shelves clattered against one another. Ben hid a grin, enjoying the way she grabbed a carton of orange juice and slammed it on the counter.