Page 28 of One Bed

* * *

Gib looked at the group sitting on the wall, their faces lit by the lights of the burned-down candles on the low tables around them. The dim light smoothed Golly and Reena’s aged skin, and softened Cass’s angular face.

Bea looked…

Shit. She looked enchanting in her figure-hugging dress ending two inches from her knees. Her hair was half out of its loose knot and lay on her smooth shoulders. Her eyes held laughter-tinged frustration. Or frustration-tinged laughter.

Her arms were around her godmother’s waist, and Gib noticed the small kiss she dropped on Golly’s shoulder, the quick brush of her cheek against her wrinkled arm.

They had a bond that ran deep and true and had been built, he was sure, by tears and talking, fights and frustration. Bea’s impossible high heels lay on the flagstones, and she flexed her bright aqua-tipped toes. He tightened his grip on her flip flops, glad he’d picked them up on his way back from walking the mayor, and his wife, to their car. They’d looked a little lost and he felt somebody should.

Gib kept his eyes on Bea, who’d yet to notice his approach. On coming closer, he saw she looked tired, a drooping woodland sprite who’d spent a long day in a forest doing whatever sprites did. Golly spotted him and Bea looked past her and smiled.

It went straight to his gut and his world tilted, just a little.

Fuck, he’d just met her, they hadn’t even kissed, had yet to make love. But he couldn’t, not for one minute, help thinking this woman would change his life. How, he’d just have to wait and see.

He scrubbed his hand over his face. He had to be reacting like this because, like Golly –and wasn’t that information he didn’t need to know! – he hadn’t had sex in a while, and he was missing it.

Logic dictated that his reaction to Bea could be connected to his lack of sex, his stay on this romantic, tranquil Greek island and being forced to step away from work, to slow down, just a little.

OK, he’d only spent two full days on Santorini, but they’d been totally different to his high-pressure, high-octane lifestyle. Since leaving college and joining Caddell International, he’d put in long hours at work, determined to prove he had something to offer the company. And that he was anything but a Nepo-baby.

Hugh encouraged all Caddell employees to embrace a work/life balance, but since Gib wasn’t interested in settling down, having a wife and 2.6 kids, his work was his life. It was his number one priority.

If he felt like this after just a couple of days – loose and relaxed – Hugh might have to use a taser to shock him back into work mode after his vacation.

‘Ladies.’ Gib lifted an eyebrow at the bowl-sized glasses of margaritas on the wall, hoping they weren’t as strong as they looked. Bea had told him she had a full day ahead of her tomorrow and he knew from experience that working with a hangover was shit on wheels. Why was he worried? He wasn’t her brother or her boyfriend, and she was an adult who could make her own choices. She didn’t need his protection.

When he joined them, he looked at Bea’s bare feet and handed her her flip flops. ‘I thought you might need these.’

He saw surprise and confusion skitter across Bea’s face. She took them tentatively, caught off guard by his gesture.

‘Thank you,’ she said, slipping them onto her feet with obvious relief. ‘God, why do women wear stupid shoes?’

‘Beats me,’ Reena replied.

‘Because they make our legs look fabulous,’ Cass replied.

Golly stood up, stretched and leaned down to hug Cass, thanking her for making her night special. ‘I know that I am a demanding old bat, but you and Nadia are the best.’ Golly kissed her on both cheeks before placing her hands on Bea’s shoulders.

‘Same goes for you, Bea-darling. I appreciate all your hard work.’

Gib caught the flash of tears in Bea’s eyes, her slightly wobbling lip. ‘In ten years, you’re going to tell me you need another weekend bash, and another celebration. And I’m telling you now, we’ll celebrate by having afternoon tea at The Savoy.’

Something as sedate as tea? He didn’t believe that for a second.

Golly hauled in a deep breath and spread her arms out wide. ‘No bloody chance, Bea-darling!Old age should bloody burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the fucking light.’

You had to admire a woman who could quote Keats while swearing like a prison inmate.

‘Now, I’m going to bed with a bottle of champagne and a good book,’ Golly said.

‘What are you reading at the moment?’ Cass asked.

It was a question he’d never dare ask, mostly because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. That Fifty Shades book?The Bible,the QuranortheKama Sutra? A serial-killer suspense? How to take over the world in your seventies?

‘The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam,’ Golly told her. ‘I think the Persian scholar and I would’ve been friends.’

---