Page 23 of Highest Bid

Layla didn’t give her mom a chance to reply. Instead she said weakly, “Mom, what are you doing here?”

Mark seemed to instantly sober up, his eyes shining wetly. “Stacey! My God...you’re back!”

Layla’s mother frowned. “Of course I’m back. I live here, too, don’t I?”

Layla sank onto the nearest dining room chair. “Dad said you’d left him.”

Her mother laughed, but the sound was bone-weary and beyond sad. She turned to Mark. “I should have left your sorry ass years ago. But I’m too invested to go anywhere now.” She swept a hand out. “We’ve made a life here, bought our dream house. I’m not giving up everything I’ve worked so hard for, and that includes you!”

Mark broke into a huge grin before he ran and swept her up into his arms, twirling her around. Pressing a kiss to her lips, he said huskily, “I should have known better than to believe you left. Despite our fights, we’re good together, baby.” He drew back, subdued again, and asked, “So what happened last night?”

Stacey looked up at him, stars shining in her eyes, as though she was unused to such genuine affection from her husband. “One of the dancers had to fight off a group of intoxicated men who climbed on stage.”

Mark’s gaze widened, turned assessing. “Were you hurt?”

Stacey shook her head. “No. I was about to leave for the night, had even caught up my handbag and everything, when the scuffle headed my way. I could see our bouncers were overwhelmed, so I took out my cell to ring for help when it was knocked to the ground. The damn thing’s broken now.”

Some of the tension eased that bracketed Mark’s mouth. “Guess that explains why you didn’t answer your phone. But why were you out all night?”

Stacey rubbed her brow. “A bunch of us took Jackie to hospital to get her checked over. When she was given the all-clear, we took her back to her place. She was too shaken up to be left alone.” Her stare cooled. “And I thought you’d be too busy to notice I didn’t come home.”

Mark grimaced. “Love, I’ve been a fool. A bloody stupid, blind idiot. I realize now I don’t deserve you. Hell, even our daughter hates me now.”

Layla gasped. “I didn’t say that.”

There was resignation on Mark’s face when he turned to face Layla. “You didn’t have to. I only hope I can earn your forgiveness in time.” He looked back at his wife. “And I’ll do whatever needed to earn back your trust.”

The vibes in the room were getting uncomfortable, and Galan resisted coaxing Layla from the house never to return. Already her whole body was growing rigid again, her posture unyielding. He’d planned on giving her sore feet a good massage tonight—he hadn’t been unaware of her struggling not to limp beside him earlier—but a head-to-toe massage was definitely in order now.

His heart squeezed painfully. Except Layla had plainly stated she couldn’t be with him anymore. Touching her was the last thing he’d be doing tonight.

“How many chances have you given him, Mom?”

Stacey’s face softened as she gazed up at her husband. Though she answered Layla’s question, she seemed otherwise oblivious to her when she said, “I can see this time he means it.”

Layla snorted in disgust even as her father stared down into his wife’s eyes and said softly, “I love you.”

When Layla’s parents drifted away arm-in-arm toward what was obviously their bedroom, Layla’s lips pinched as she pushed to her feet and turned to Galan. “I’m sorry you had to be a part of all...this.”

“I’m not,” he said softly. Her eyes widened, and he added, “I’ve learned a lot about you tonight.”

She smoothed a hand down her shirt, her eyes downcast and her voice weary. “Oh?”

He took a step toward her, then cupped her chin to lift her eyes back to his. “I’ve learned that you’re brave and loyal and probably had to grow up way too early.”

She blinked, not denying the latter. “So you’re not...turned off?”

He brushed his thumb along her jaw and said huskily, “I couldn’t be more turned on if I tried.” He dropped his hand, and added starkly, “But none of that matters if you don’t trust me.”

Turbulent emotions flashed behind her eyes. Desire, fear, uncertainty. Then she blinked, her gaze unreadable and just a little bit cool. And Galan released an unsteady breath and said gruffly, “I’m taking you home.”

She didn’t answer, didn’t say anything as he herded her out of the house and bundled her into his car.

But no matter how good he’d been at keeping his emotions in a box, and how much he denied whatever was happening between them, he couldn’t deny the God-awful ache in his chest.

Chapter Nine

Layla gathered what dishes, cutlery, and glasses were left on the now-empty restaurant table that’d been filled with rowdy, late-night diners. At least the work kept her busy and relatively sane.

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