Irresistible Attraction: Scenes of Passion / Midnight Seduction / Beyond Control

Six

Maggie unlocked the kitchen door and went into the house without turning on the light. She was feeling wobbly from all that beer she’d had. She normally didn’t have a single beer, let alone four. Or was it five?

It was after midnight, and her parents had gone to bed. The house was dark, so she locked the door behind her and crept into the living room and…

And there, on the stairs, in the glow from the streetlight, was Vanessa.

Kissing Brock.

She was in her nightgown.

His jacket was off and his shirt was unbuttoned.

And it was pretty damn obvious that he’d been with her, up in her bedroom.

“Wow,” Maggie said. “That was fast.”

Her sister and the man who’d asked her to marry him just a few weeks ago—never mind the fact that she was intending to tell him no tomorrow—leapt apart.

“God,” Vanessa said. “Maggie, you scared me to death.”

Maggie turned on the light. Brock, at least, had the decency to look embarrassed.

Vanessa, from the looks of things, was even more drunk than she was.

Maggie sat down on the couch. “Your car’s not out front,” she said to Brock.

“I, uh, parked it down the street,” he admitted. “Look, Maggie, I’m sorry—”

“I thought you were Mitch’s friend,” she said.

“I am.”

“Some friend.”

Vanessa took offense at her tone. “Mitch is a son of a bitch who should rot in hell,” she said, sitting down on the step between the entryway and the living room.

“Who filed for divorce because you were cheating on him,” Maggie said. She looked at Brock. “Did you know that?”

“Because he was cheating on me!” Vanessa started to cry. “You’re so self-righteous.”

“Hey,” Maggie said. “I think I’m allowed a little self-righteousness when I come home to find out that you slept with my boyfriend.”

“I didn’t think you’d be coming home,” Vanessa countered. “Out with Matthew Stone? No woman in her right mind would make him drive her home. Except you. You’re so perfect, Margaret. So perfect and proper and cold.”

“This probably isn’t a good time to be having this conversation,” Brock said.

“Shut up,” Vanessa said, just as Maggie said, “Zip it, Brockster.”

“Maybe I should go…”

“How could you sleep with her?” Maggie asked him. The answer was right there on his face. All along, he’d wanted Vanessa. Even drunk, with her makeup faded and her hair a mess, Maggie’s sister was hot. All along, Brock had just wanted to get close to Maggie’s hotter sister. She looked up at him in amazement. “Maybe the question I should ask is how could you ask me to marry you, when you’re in love with her?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

This was why he didn’t push when she’d said she wanted to wait before they spent the night together. She’d thought he was just nice. But oh, my God… “Have you been sleeping with her all this time?”

“No,” Brock said. “Absolutely not.”

“No,” Maggie echoed. “You just wanted to sleep with her.” God, she’d almost spent her life married to a man who really wanted her sister. She stood up and looked at Vanessa. “And you knew it. You bitch.”

“Fine,” Vanessa said. “I’m a bitch. I’d rather be a bitch than little miss no-no-no we’ve only been going out for four months, we can’t possible have sex yet.”

“Oh, my God,” Maggie looked at Brock. “You discussed our sex life with my sister?”

“What sex life?” Vanessa laughed. “You don’t have a sex life.”

“Not like yours,” Maggie said hotly. “No. I don’t have sex with strangers in the parking lot of a bar.”

“Yeah,” Vanessa shot back. “Miss Goody-Goody. You just don’t have sex, period. I can’t imagine why Matthew Stone even bothers to look at you. Sure, he’ll sleep with anything female, but the way you dress it’s hard to tell you’re actually a woman. If you did sleep with him, I’d give it one week. Although I’d bet big money that Matt would be bored to tears after only one hour in bed with you.”

Maggie gasped. “That’s an awful thing to say!”

“Van,” Brock said.

“It’s true.” Van started to cry. “You’re so perfect. I hate you.”

“And I won’t live in this house with you,” Maggie told her sister. “I know you say things like that because you’re the one who’s messed up, and because you can’t deal with Mitch’s leaving you, but I am so out of here. Tell Mom and Dad I’ve moved out. For good,” she added, the words making her feel remarkably light, despite her anger and hurt, despite the growing nausea from her churning stomach.

“Maybe this conversation should wait for the morning,” Brock said again.

“Maybe you should go to hell,” Maggie told him, and, grabbing her briefcase, she went into the kitchen and out the door.

She got into her car, but her head was spinning and her stomach definitely felt sick.

She was going to throw up.

She stared down at her car keys. How many mugs of beer did she drink?

Too many to drive.

Savagely, she opened the car door and got out.

As if on cue, the skies opened and it started to rain.

Maggie squared her shoulders, and still carrying her briefcase, started the long walk into town.

Stevie cranked up the volume of the radio and switched on the windshield wipers as the rain came down harder. He flipped his bright lights lower as he saw someone walking along Route One.