Page 47 of One Bed

‘Yeah, I think that’s what she wrote.’

‘Holy, holy shit,’ Navy said, excitement coating his words. ‘I know who she is, cousin.’

Gib did too. The woman who’d turned his life inside out. The woman he still wanted to make love to, fuckingdesperately. He needed to stop in Oia and buy a box of condoms. Granted, he had less than an ice-cube’s chance in hell of getting her naked, but millions believed miracles did happen.

If one came his way, he wanted to be prepared.

‘I think your Bea is Parker Kane, Gib.’

ChapterTen

‘I’m sorry.’

Bea sat at the table on the deck, her specs on and her hair pulled up into a messy bun. She’d heard Gib come into the cottage and listened as he went into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Heard the faint sounds of the shower and the buzz of an electric razor. The opening of the bedroom door, his big feet approaching her.

She’d kept her eyes on her screen, still too pissed off to look at him. ‘Seriously, Bea, I was a prick. I’m sorry.’

Her parents had never apologised, neither had Gerry, and the sincerity in Gib’s voice had her lifting her eyes to his face. His expression echoed the authenticity in his voice and she saw unease, and shame, in his eyes. Having never been on the receiving end of a proper, vocal apology –Golly either apologised via text or with an expensive present –she wasn’t quite sure what to say.

‘OK.’

He rubbed the back of his neck and for the first time she saw the man behind the imperturbable CEO, someone whose confidence wasn’t, for a change, sky high. ‘Do you want an explanation?’ he muttered.

She tipped her head to the side and pulled her heels up to rest them on the edge of her chair. ‘Would you give me one?’

He shrugged. ‘Yeah.’

She rolled her hand, lifted her eyebrows and waited. He rocked on his heels, jammed his hands under his armpits and looked at the view. Gib flipped his sunglasses over his eyes and a few seconds later pushed them back onto his head. He looked down at his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. She knew he was hoping she’d take pity on him and let him off the hook.

No friggin’ chance.

Bea wrapped her arms around her legs and waited.

Gib cleared his throat. ‘I have this thing about privacy. Sharing this cottage with you isn’t easy for me.’

She was tempted to tell him that he’d always had the option to shove off, but she was emotionally exhausted, and she didn’t want to start another fight.

‘I’m never at my best in the morning … but that’s not an excuse for me acting like a prick.’ He dragged his hands over his face. ‘If I give them the option to sleep over, my dates usually leave after sex, or when I leave to workout at five in the morning.’

God, she couldn’t think of anything worse than being booted out of his bed to do the walk of shame at that time of the morning.

‘Don’t frown at me, they knew that was going to happen,’ he told her, with a touch of his previous asperity. ‘Look, I’m just not used to having someone in my space. I’m not interested in a relationship, or any sort of commitment and I reacted badly. I felt uncomfortable with you cleaning up after me, doing my laundry, making the bed, and then rustling up breakfast. It’s too domesticated for me.’

Bea opened her mouth to defend herself, to tell him that while he thought it OK to be a slob, she wasn’t. But she pulled back her words, knowing she was latching onto an easy defence of her actions. He was a little untidy, but she hadn’t given him a chance to clean up after himself. She’d swept in and done it for him, instinctively falling back into her old patterns of behaviour.

And yeah, she’d skipped out of bed this morning, buoyed by a fantastic orgasm and an even better night’s sleep. She’d been raring to go, so she went for a swim, made breakfast, and made this table look like a prop fromMamma Mia. She’d offered him something to eat and handed him coffee. She’d been a heartbeat away from lying down and asking him to scratch her tummy…

She could see why a man who eschewed relationships would feel uncomfortable when the woman he’d made scream the previous night turned into Hannah Homemaker. But she wasn’t prepared to let him totally off the hook. ‘You were a jerk,’ she told him.

His eyes didn’t drop from hers. ‘I know.’

She hauled in a deep breath. ‘If I agree to not tidy up after you, and bring you coffee, will you try to pick up your stuff, make the bed, and stop annoying me?’

The misery faded in his eyes, as confidence rolled back in. ‘Yeah. I’ll make that deal.’ He started towards her, and Bea knew he was about to kiss her. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted more, but it wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t ready to return to where they were before. Their argument earlier was his fault (and hers), but they couldn’t go back and pretend nothing had happened. She didn’t work that way.

She held up her hand and he stopped abruptly. ‘We need a reset.’

He grimaced and did his hand-rubbing-his-neck gesture again. She’d learnt that he only did it when he was thinking about how to respond. ‘So, you’re not moving out?’ he said, trying to inject a little humour into their conversation.

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