Page 15 of Highest Bid

“Smells good,” he said approvingly.

She nodded, thankful for the change of topic. She couldn’t think about tomorrow or the next day. She had to focus on the present and enjoy her time with Galan for as long as it lasted. Lord only knew she’d gone into this with her eyes wide open.

Snagging tongs from the kitchen drawer beside her, she pulled the crispy bacon from the pan. “I cook bacon and eggs every Sunday, on my day off.”

“Mm. Great tradition.”

She rubbed at her brow. Would the tradition be shared again after today?

“Something wrong?” he asked softly.

She shook her head, giving him a half-truth instead of admitting her true feelings. “I was just thinking how nice it is to share breakfast with you. Usually I love being alone without...”

“Yes?” he prompted.

Parental wars.

“Noise and mayhem,” she finished.

He dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “Then we have something in common, besides sex.”

“You don’t like noise either?” Her peripheral vision caught his nod before she added, “And here I thought you thrived on it.”

He laughed. “I thrive on making money. I’ve learned to live with putting up with the din of a nightclub.”

She handed him the bacon to take to the table, then she dished up the eggs and then followed him. He put the bacon in the center of the table, then pulled out a chair for her. She sat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The toaster popped, the mouthwatering aroma of cooked bread making her stomach tighten with hunger. But then, she’d only managed a few bites of her Vegemite on toast last night before she’d succumbed to Galan’s skillful mouth.

“I’ll get it,” he offered.

Ten minutes later, she was scraping the last of her egg onto what was left of her toast, and biting into it. She closed her eyes on a sigh. “I’m so full I could burst.”

Galan’s knife and fork clattered as he placed them onto his already empty plate. He smiled and patted his abs. “I ate twice as much as you did.”

She shrugged. “True. But then you work off any excess calories in the bedroom.”

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes speculative. “My sex life bothers you a lot, doesn’t it?”

She resisted twisting the napkin near her plate, and instead took a sip of the orange juice Galan had poured into their glasses. She cleared her throat. “What you do in your private life is your business, not mine.”

“And after we stop seeing each other? What then?” he asked gently.

Then I’ll find a way to harden my heart like my mom hardened hers.

Layla swallowed. She had to find a way to inject some humor into the conversation or she just might cry. “Then we both move on and into other people’s beds, until what we had together is nothing but a distant memory.”

“And you’d be happy with that?”

Would she? She nodded. “I’ll learn to live with it.”

His face was unreadable as he pushed to his feet and collected their plates, but his voice was strained. “You cooked, I’ll clean.”

As he stalked toward the sink and rinsed off their plates and cutlery, she stood and headed to the kettle. “Coffee?” He nodded and she added, “I only have instant.”

“Then make mine strong and black.”

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