Chapter 3
As Maia parked in front of the sprawling house, she recalled the school visit to the kennels.
She’d been a traumatized kid, living with an aunt who was full of rules and resentment.
The dogs impacted her that day. Seeing Henry had made her heart race.
His obvious caring for the animals had meant something to her, and a tiny part of her had looked forward to seeing him again.
Okay. Big fat lie.
He’d made a significant impression on her—this big, burly man with the gruff expression. From a child’s perspective, he’d seemed a giant. Heck, he was still big. Not overweight, but solid. He still didn’t smile, but something intangible about the man drew her.
She grinned, recalling his hasty departure. London and Gerard had gaped after their friend, dark-haired Gerard shaking his head when Henry had muttered something about dogs and fled. He’d run away when she was a kid. Looking back, she could see that now.
A sigh escaped. Accepting their dinner invitation hadn’t been a sensible idea when Henry lived in the same residence. She might be savoring a sandwich and a glass of wine at home, pondering her urban fantasy idea. Maia still wasn’t sure why she’d agreed after initially saying no thanks.
She pulled a bottle of wine from her shopping bag. She’d intended to drink it over several nights as a treat for words written, but she couldn’t arrive empty-handed.
On the plus side, she’d spoken to Isabella, who had agreed to help her train with sessions twice weekly. With Isabella, she’d learn the area’s geography and the best places to run.
Maia straightened, locked her car, and marched to the front door. The door flew open to a beaming London. A delicious scent of herbs and bacon wafted in the air.
“Come in,” London said. “Dinner is almost ready. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving. Something smells delicious and much better than sandwiches.”
“Henry is a superb cook.” London started to say something, frowned, and stopped speaking. “This way,” she said, her smile a little overdone.
Maia’s stomach did a swift somersault before settling in an uneasy quiver. Yeah, this was a bad idea. Henry had run from her, yet she’d still accepted London’s invitation. She hesitated a beat longer before sighing and following her new friend.
London led the way from the tiled entranceway, with its ornate umbrella stand and lacy green plant on a pedestal table, along a short passage.
Maia noted paintings on the walls but didn’t linger to study the sea landscapes.
A door to the right opened into a massive kitchen.
A table, already set with cutlery, glasses, and plates, sat near several glass doors.
It looked as if they opened onto a terrace, which would be pleasant on a sunny day.
A long freestanding counter acted as a breakfast bar, while the workspace was immense.
The fridge was a monster, and the massive gas cooker intimidated her.
Maia could cook and attempted to prepare healthy meals, but these appliances were too large for her needs. She smothered a quick laugh because she doubted her kitchen floor would stand the weight. Her gaze drifted to Henry, who stood at the stovetop, his back to them as he stirred a sauce.
“Maia has arrived.”
The broad shoulders stiffened.
Maia frowned. What was wrong with the man? More importantly, why did he always flee from her?
“Henry.” London’s sharp voice held a warning.
He turned, fleeting anger crossing his handsome face before his expression blanked. “Hello, Maia,” he said and returned to his sauce.
London huffed while Maia hesitated on the kitchen threshold.
She handed the bottle of white wine to London. “My contribution.”
“Thanks.” London’s smile was stiff. “Gerard had a last-minute phone call. He won’t be long. Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Sounds lovely.” Maia experienced an urge to rile Henry, but manners won.
“Take a seat at the breakfast bar. You can chat with Henry while I grab beers for the guys.” London glared at Henry’s broad shoulders as she left.
He heard but only thumped a wooden spoon against the pot in silent reply.
Maia flinched and wished she’d stayed with her initial—albeit polite—rejection of the dinner invitation.
But her curiosity about Henry had overruled her common sense, and yes, she should’ve known better. Hindsight and all that.
Men didn’t fit with her world. Not with the constant training and travel to play other teams. Samuel, her boyfriend of six months, had accused her of seeing another man.
He’d been so pissed he’d punched the wall.
A man with difficulty controlling his temper wasn’t the one for her, and they’d parted not long after that when he’d aimed his temper and fists at her.
Not a circumstance she wanted to dwell on.
Her gaze went to Henry, and she decided to clear the air while they were alone.
“Henry?”
He tensed but turned to face her, his expression grim. Oh heck. What had she done to ruffle him? Yeah, she felt this weird draw, but she’d met him twice, and they’d barely spoken.
“Have I upset you?”
His intense gaze drilled right through her. It made her edgy. A touch neurotic.
“No.”
She waited for him to add information, but no more words were forthcoming. They stared at each other.
“Then why are you behaving as if I’m the enemy?”
“It’s not you,” he said, his husky voice stirring nerves and increasing her uneasiness.
“Then what is it? I’m sorry I accepted London’s invitation. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Look, tell London something came up, and I had to leave.”
“Tell London what?” London asked.
Henry’s features tightened before blanking into an enigmatic mask.
“I’ve received a text message and can’t stay for long. It’s an internet call with an overseas company for a sponsorship deal.” It was all true. Maia had a scheduled online meeting at ten but had ample time.
“But you can stay for dinner?” London asked, her brow furrowed.
“Yes, thank you. I could assist with the dishes,” she said, smiling. “Although I bet you have a dishwasher somewhere in this mammoth kitchen.”
“The dishwasher is called Gerard tonight,” Gerard said, appearing in the doorway. “The cook doesn’t clean up after dinner. London will help, although Henry isn’t a messy cook—not like someone else I could mention.” He glanced knowingly at his wife.
She giggled. “Yep, guilty as charged. I start out with tidy intentions, but things never go to plan.”
“I’ll serve dinner.” Henry glanced at Maia. His brown eyes flickered, and she blinked, his gaze so fleeting she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined the golden light flaring in his irises.
“Your wine is excellent,” London said. “I haven’t tried this sav, but it’s lovely and crisp. Did you get it at the supermarket?”
“I did.” Maia accepted the glass and took a fortifying sip. “You’re right. We’ll have to buy out their stock.”
Gerard laughed while Henry didn’t react. His was a resting grumpy face, but on the plus side, he was a decent cook, judging by the delicious scent filling the kitchen.
Henry placed a plate of spaghetti carbonara in front of her and set another down for London. Maia leaned forward to savor the creamy bacon and cheesy scent and breathed an appreciative sigh as she straightened.
Henry returned with plates for himself and Gerard and sat beside Gerard. London gave him a funny look but didn’t comment.
“Henry, did you hear Maia plays rugby professionally?” London asked.
His head jerked up, and no, it wasn’t her imagination. His eyes had flashed golden before he glanced away.
“What got you started playing rugby?” Gerard asked.
“A friend dragged me along one night because I had nothing better to do. They didn’t have enough players, and she pleaded with me to participate to prevent their disqualification.
She promised I was playing on the wing and wouldn’t need to tackle.
All I had to do was run and pretend I was part of the team. ”
London gave a delighted laugh. “Did it not go to plan?”
“It did not. I had a working knowledge of the game and must’ve absorbed some rules.
One thing I have going for me is my speed, and,”—Maia gestured at herself—“I’m bigger than most girls.
After ten minutes of acute boredom, I inserted myself into the game.
The team won for the first time, and I couldn’t escape after that.
My friend nagged me to join, and I’ve played ever since. ”
“You must be skilled to play for a professional team,” Gerard said.
Maia shrugged. “I love the game. The camaraderie with teammates. The Women’s World Cup is next year, and I aim to make the team.”
“Wow,” London said.
Maia twirled spaghetti on her fork. She closed her lips around the creamy mouthful and hummed approval as tastes and textures hit her senses.
Yum. She forked up more, only hesitating when she felt the weight of a stare.
Her gaze lifted to collide with Henry’s.
Once again, it was golden and gorgeous. Spellbinding until he blinked.
A brown screen came over his eyes, and he focused on his meal.
Maia shook herself. Why did this man attract her? He was grumpy and forbidding. But it was also clear he and Gerard were tight. This strong friendship showed Henry wasn’t an arsehole.
“What training do you do?” Gerard asked.
“You mentioned running. Did you speak to Isabella?” London asked.
“Isabella is going for a run with me tomorrow. She’ll assess me, and we’ll go from there.”
“Isabella is a brilliant teacher,” Gerard said. “Henry and I attend her boot camp when we can. It helps us keep fit for our security jobs.”
Maia nodded, pleased to hear her judgment was sound.
Isabella’s manner and confidence had impressed her.
Maia applied herself to eating while fighting an urge to peek at Henry.
The man intrigued her despite his surliness.
Perhaps her busy schedule was a blessing.
She could avoid this infuriating, grumpy man.
She glanced at her watch when she finished her meal and decided it was time to leave. “Apologies for rushing, but I can help with the dishes.”
“No, I’ll help Gerard,” Henry said. “You go.”
Her mouth dropped a fraction before she collected herself.
“Henry,” London said in a stern reprimand.
Okay, it hadn’t been her imagination. Maia pushed back her chair and stood. “I’m sorry I’m rushing away, but this meeting is important.” All true. “Thanks for dinner. It was delicious and much more enjoyable than the sandwich I’d intended to eat.”
“You’re welcome,” London said.
Gerard sent her a friendly smile.
“Henry will see you out,” London said.
Henry’s big body shifted as if he’d object. Maia caught the tail end of London’s glower and suppressed a smile.
“I’m fine. Henry, finish your dinner.” Maia aimed a casual glance in his direction. She even curved her lips while her pulse raced, the pace choppy. He had a mesmerizing effect, shoving her off balance. “Thanks again.”
To her consternation, Henry set down his cutlery with a clatter. She swallowed, increased her pace, and hoped she didn’t look like she was fleeing. She was, but appearances were important.
“It was lovely to make your acquaintance,” London said.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Maia said.
Finally, she reached the hall leading to the front door. She wondered if Henry might say something, but he remained silent, his strides long as he overtook her. He reached the door first and opened it, standing aside so there was no danger of casual contact.
Maia’s quick glance showed a granite-hard face with no evidence of softness or friendship. Confusion engulfed her, followed by a blast of anger.
“What crime have I committed to make you treat me like the enemy? We don’t know each other.”
Henry winced before even that emotional flash fled. “London is—never mind. Good night.”
Angry at the man, she strode into the evening air. She whirled to unleash her tongue and tell him it was rude to pre-judge someone, but he clicked the door in her face.
She raised her fist to pound on the door before good sense overcame her. Fuming, she stomped toward her car and made a silent promise to avoid the impossible man in the future.