It was as if they had a silent understanding.
Even though they had the most intimate of relationships, neither of them wanted to expose it.
Seeing Connor Quinn’s ssage, Moira Sloan glanced at the doorway. She didn’t see him, only a tall shadow elongated by the light.
Moira announced, "Quitting ti."
Shauna Duane, who had been scrolling on her phone, stopped and added the green yarn she’d picked out to her shopping cart. "Alrighty."
If you aren’t enthusiastic about clocking out, there’s sothing wrong with you.
Shauna was a perfect example of this. The mont she said "alrighty," she grabbed her purse and was gone.
Moira looked outside again. The lone, elongated shadow had beco a pair.
Moira sat still, as if watching a shadow play.
She watched as Shauna’s shadow approached Connor’s.
Then she watched as Connor’s shadow took half a step back.
The corner of her lip twitched. "Tsk. Hypocrite."
Moira didn’t notice when Shauna left.
By the ti she realized, Connor Quinn had already pushed the door open and walked up to her.
Hearing him, Moira lifted her gaze to glance at him before quickly looking back down at the ga on her phone. "Give a minute. Let finish this round."
Connor asked, "How long will that take?"
Moira answered, "Twenty minutes? Maybe?"
It was hard to say for sure.
Both sides in the ga were in a heated battle. Judging by their combat power, they were evenly matched; it wouldn’t be over any ti soon.
Connor’s expression was indifferent. "You play, then."
Moira, "Mm."
The next second, the wind chi on the door jingled as Connor left the shop.
Moira heard him leave but didn’t look up.
’If he wants to go, he can go.’ Their relationship hadn’t reached the point where they’d long for each other.
The ga lasted about as long as Moira had expected, ending in exactly twenty minutes.
She put down her phone and looked up just as the shop door was pushed open again.
Watching the man walk in, Moira narrowed her eyes, the corners of her eyes lifting in a slight tease. "What’s that in your hand?"
Connor’s voice was stern and cool as he answered, "Groceries."
’It’s not like I’m blind.’
’How could I not know he was carrying groceries?’
’He was supposed to be here to talk to —probably about *that* business—so why buy groceries?’
’Does he actually intend to show off his culinary skills at my place?’
As it turned out, Moira had guessed right.
Even half an hour later, when Connor appeared in her kitchen with that bag of groceries, she still wore a look of utter disbelief.
’Did I have too narrow a definition of ’friends with benefits’?’
’Or did he have so kind of misunderstanding about the relationship?’
Connor’s deep gaze swept around the kitchen before he turned back to Moira. "No seasonings?"
Moira leaned lazily against the doorfra. "Nope."
’What a shocker.’
’My kitchen doesn’t just lack seasonings; it has no rice, flour, or oil either.’
’I don’t cook, so why would I keep that stuff around? To raise venomous insects?’
Connor, "I’ll go buy so."
Moira crossed her arms and looked at him. "Connor Quinn."
Connor, "What is it?"
Moira let out a soft laugh. "Don’t you think you’re going a little overboard?"
Connor lowered his gaze to et hers, acting as if he saw nothing abnormal about his behavior. "How so?"
Moira dropped her arms and walked closer to him, a smirk playing on her lips. "Why are you here? To cook for ?"
With that, a smile touched her lips. She poked his chest with a fingertip, then tugged on his collar, pulling him down to whisper in his ear, "Connor, we’re just friends with benefits. If you want to sleep with , you don’t need all this foreplay. It’s a consensual arrangent where we both get what we want..."
Moira didn’t get to finish her sentence. Connor’s eyes darkened, and his large hand gripped her waist. He turned his head to et her gaze. "If I don’t feed you, how are you going to feed later?"
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