Page 21 of One Bed

‘Can we serve it to Gib?’

Bea winced. ‘It’s alothotter than you usually make it.’ The guy annoyed, irritated, and attracted her in equal measure, but she wanted him to be able to walk and talk.

Golly breezed into the kitchen. ‘Hello, my babies,’ she sing-songed, heading straight for a cupboard and taking out four wine glasses. She sat them on the table and opened the fridge. She pulled out a bottle of white wine and squinted at the label. ‘Yes, a Chardonnay.Perfect. Where’s Gib?’

‘Washing his hands.’ Bea looked at the chicken and frowned. ‘I think he should stick to bread and salad.’

‘Pfft! It’s not that hot,’ Reena told her. ‘Do stop fussing, Bea!’

‘I just don’t want you to be sued for inflicting gross bodily harm,’ Bea shot back, sliding into her normal seat at the table.

‘You are so dramatic,’ Reena whipped back, as Golly poured a healthy amount of wine into her glass. Well, the chilli might affect Gib’s ability to walk and talk, but the wine, thanks to an already long day and not much sleep over the past few weeks, and barely any last night, would do the same to her.

At this rate, she might not even notice the six-foot-something man sharing her bed.

Talking about people sharing beds … there was something she needed to ask her godma.

‘Before Gib comes back, Golly … I need to know if you’re in any could-cause-you-trouble relationships at the moment?’

‘That’s hurtful,’ Golly replied, not looking, or sounding, the least bit wounded.

‘C’mon, Golly, you know what I’m asking…’ More than one event had ended with the other half realising that their partner was colouring outside of their relationship lines with Golly. ‘If I know, I can try and keep you separated. Though, you know, it might be a good policy if you don’t sleep with people who are in committed relationships.’

‘I’m not cheating, they are,’ Golly replied, as she always did. ‘It’s their karma, not mine.’

Bea was pretty sure karma didn’t work that way.

‘I am still, and always will be, gloriously single, Bea-darling,’ Golly replied, not in the least embarrassed.

‘And why did you mention your sex life to Gib? Dammit, Golly, you seriously need to stop with that shit!’

Golly drained some of her wine, and mischief jumped into her eyes. ‘With those looks, I bet he gets laid quite often. I wonder how many people he’s slept with. I think I’ll ask him.’

Bea barely knew the man, but understood she had more chance of falling pregnant by an alien than she had of Gib opening up and sharing something so personal. Or, frankly, anything at all. If she was a closed book, he was the human equivalent of the Swiss Fort Knox.

‘I will stab you with a fork,’ Bea warned her. She was ninety per cent sure Golly was winding her up, but she couldn’t take the chance.

Thankfully, they were all helping themselves to salad, fried chicken and bread when Gib walked into the kitchen. Bea immediately noticed his hair was damp; he’d probably run wet hands through it. She, on the other hand, looked like she’d been dragged through a bush backwards. Her hair refused to stay in its ponytail and kept falling and sticking to her face. She was also red from a mixture of exasperation, excitement and stress.

And she was deeply, deeply worried about Gib’s reaction to Reena’s chilli.

Please, please, let him not be too emotionally attached to his tastebuds.

‘Something smells amazing,’ Gib said, taking the seat opposite her at the kitchen table. He took the glass of wine Golly pushed on him and thanked her. He lifted it. ‘Here’s hoping you have a marvellous weekend, Golly.’

God, he was smooth. No, that wasn’t fair, it was a nice toast. It was pitch perfect, he certainly knew what to say at the right time. But it was impossible to see below that urbane, corporate CEO surface. Golly grinned at him as they all clinked glasses.

Bea leaned forward and waited for Gib to look at her. When he did, she suggested, as serious as a torpedo strike, that he avoid Reena’s chicken. ‘Istronglyadvise you stick to bread and salad,’ she insisted.

Gib smiled at her and slid a piece of bread onto his plate. ‘I’m not missing out on the fried chicken. It smells amazing.’

‘Maybe, but it has the kick of a bionic superhero.’

Gib sipped his wine. ‘Bea, whenever I go to a new city, whether it’s Mumbai or Beijing, I always ask the locals where I should eat. Their food is always spicier than what they serve the tourists and I’ve never had a problem.’

Maybe, but he’d yet to taste Reena’s Chicken 65. While tasty, she was sure it measured about a trillion on the Scoville measurement scale. She was used to Reena’s spicy cooking, but she’d only managed a tiny sliver of chicken before throwing in the towel.

OK, well, if he was going to be stubborn about this. She sat back, folded her arms, and lifted her chin. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

---