The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)

I give him a lopsided smile.

He frowns as he sees my face. “What’s wrong?”

I twist my hands in front of me nervously. “Your apartment freaks me out.”

“Why?”

I shrug, embarrassed by my slummy standards. “It’s so fancy. I feel like I don’t belong here.”

He takes me in his arms. “What does that mean?”

I shrug.

“Is that why you didn’t want to come here last weekend?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Explain to me why?”

“When I’m here, I’m reminded of how much we don’t have in common.”

“And that bothers you?”

I nod shyly.

He frowns, as if trying to understand. “You’re the first woman who’s ever had a problem with my money.”

“It’s a turnoff to me.”

“Turnoff?” he splutters.

“I would prefer you to be poor, actually.” I smile, knowing how ridiculous that sounds.

He chuckles. “Well, that makes one of us.” He leads me into the kitchen, and I see a breakfast of bacon and eggs on sourdough bread with a side of avocado.

“Yum.” I smile as I take a seat.

“I’ll have you know that I’m an excellent breakfast chef.” He sits down beside me, looking very pleased with himself.

My smile fades, and I pick up my knife and fork. That’s because he cooks so many breakfasts.

Stop it.

I take my first mouthful. I wonder how many women have sat here just like this and eaten his cooking after having amazing sex all night.

For Christ’s sake, stop it.

“What are you doing today?” I ask to take my mind off my negative thoughts.

“Playing golf with my brothers this afternoon, and then I’ll probably have dinner with them and my parents. They go back to London this week sometime.” He sips his coffee. “You?”

I smile as I imagine the four of them playing golf. “I have to food shop. I’ll go for a walk and then write some bogus news stories.”

He stops eating. “You don’t have to work on the weekend, you know.”

“I know. I just like to be ahead of schedule in case something comes up.”

He nods and goes back to his breakfast. “Are you going out tonight?” he asks casually.