The Rogue (The Moorehouse Legacy #4)(12)

“What the hell did you do that for, Moriarty?” the man demanded, getting right up into Spike’s face.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Mad did not deserve that potshot.”

“Oh, but it’s okay for her to want to use me?”

“I want you to apologize.”

“Fine. Tell her I’m sorry. Later, Sean.” He turned away, only to find a meaty hand clamped on his forearm. He looked down and then met his friend in the eye. “Do us both a favor and let go, buddy.”

Sean cursed, then dropped the hold and used his palm to rub his face. “Look, Spike, she didn’t mean it like that.”

“Just like she didn’t mean that crack about me being a chef?”

“Of course she didn’t—”

“Did you catch the look she gave me? She clearly thinks I’m beneath her. And while that happens to be true, I don’t need to be reminded of the fact.”

“God damn it…Why are you so touchy around her? You’re not usually like this.”

Spike shifted his weight from foot to foot and then made himself take a deep breath. His temples were pounding even though he’d only had one glass of vodka the night before.

“Look, just leave it, okay? But tell her I’m sorry if she’s upset.”

“I want you to go with her.”

He shook his head. “Scuse me, Sean, but have we been having two different conversations here? I’ve said I won’t and I mean it.”

“But you’d be perfect, and no, not to drive her half brother around the bend. It’s just you don’t give a crap about all that social stuff and you won’t be offended by anything Richard says or does to you. And if you went, she wouldn’t be alone.”

“First of all, Madeline Maguire is not the kind of woman who needs support troops.”

“When it comes to her family, she does.”

“Secondly, why doesn’t she call on one of her real friends?”

“She doesn’t have any.”

Spike opened his mouth, prepared to go on to his third point, when he actually heard what Sean said. “What?”

Sean threw up his hands. “Mad’s…She keeps to herself and there are some damn good reasons why she doesn’t trust people. The only folks she’s at all close to are the members of the sailing crew she’s on—”

“So why doesn’t she ask one of them?”

“They’re stuck repairing a boat in the Bahamas. Look, there’s some bad stuff going on with her half brother that she’s going to have to deal with. You’d be a great buffer. And maybe something will…happen between you and her.”

“Whatever.”

“She likes you. She told me so.”

Spike looked at the sidewalk, unable to believe his friend. “Don’t—”

“Go. Please.”

“I can’t.”

“Yeah, you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“If not for her, than as a favor to me? Come on, Spike, I’ve waited for years for that woman to notice a man. She sees you. Last night, she spent the whole party waiting for you to walk through the door. She’s really—”

“Stop.” God, something close to panic was fanning in his chest. He had to open his mouth to breathe. “Sean, I don’t—”

“I know you like her—”

“Just…stop it.” His voice sounded choked, even to him, and Sean obviously thought the same thing because the guy shut up.

Spike rubbed his hair. “Ah, hell, buddy…You’re right, I do like her. She is special. I would love to be with her. But even if she was attracted to me, and I don’t think she is in spite of what you say, I’m not the kind of man she’s going to want to be with or bring home.”

“What a load of horse—” Sean ended the statement with a four-letter word. “I haven’t known you very long, but you’re one of my best friends. And I’m a damn good judge of character. So is Mad, by the way.”

“Sean, listen to me. I’m not right for her.”

“Why? Give me one damn good reason. And it better not be the tats on your neck because I know for a fact they turn women on.”

Spike looked down at his combat boots. Took a deep breath. “You say you haven’t known me long? Well, you also don’t know a lot about me. I’ve got a heavy-duty past, O’Banyon.”

“Like what?”

Spike exhaled on a shudder. God, was he really going to do this?

He locked stares with Sean.

Yeah, he thought, he really was.

“Five and a half years at Comstock for manslaughter. That’s maximum-security prison, Sean, and I did the crime. I killed a man. I killed him with my bare hands and I went to prison for it.”

As his friend’s hazel eyes peeled wide open, Spike wanted to curse. Damn it, he didn’t want to lose Sean over this, he really didn’t. But it wasn’t like you could soft-pedal what he’d done. A human life taken was a shocking thing, as it should be.

“That’s some hard time,” Sean murmured. “How old were you?”

“Twenty-four when I did what I did. Twenty-five when I went in.”