agreement in the introductory letters they sent to a prospective employer. Or when they watched a movie or TV show, they’d be able to understand some of the deeper themes and appeals and think about them more critically for themselves.
Concentrating on these things were new to her. They definitely hadn’t been her focus back East. And yes, they were simpler and more basic. But in a lot of ways, so much more important than, say, The Literary Transnationalism Through Poetic Representations of Ethics in the Renaissance—an actual doctoral dissertation committee she’d been a part of.
She liked teaching. Liked helping students learn the fundamentals that would help them every single day of their lives. So yeah, she was smiling.
She leaned back in her chair. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t grinning because of her newfound love of teaching...or not only because of her newfound love of teaching.
She was grinning because of the past three days. And the way she’d been with Baby.
They’d spent every night together at his place. Making love in ways and positions and on surfaces she’d never considered.
Who knew a coffee table with a pillow on the edge would turn her so wanton? Her face burned at the memory of how she’d begged him to take her harder as her fingers gripped the sides of the table.
He had. Until she was sobbing his name.
But the lovemaking hadn’t all been frenzied and frantic. There had been times when she’d woken him up by seeing how much she could get away with before he opened those green eyes. He was generous and adventurous in his lovemaking, and she’d soaked it all up.
The other intimacy had been a little harder for her.
Especially the morning after the first night. She’d taken a shower, alone this time, and realized when she’d come out that she didn’t have any of her stuff with her.
Stuff that was important when you were thirty-nine. Her skin and hair couldn’t get away with au naturel like a woman in her mid-twenties might be able to.
As the steam faded from the bathroom, she stood there staring into the mirror. A face scrubbed clean of makeup, which meant every flaw and patch of red and bags under her eyes were clearly visible.
And her hair... She could admit that she’d actually checked to see if, by some miracle, Baby had a straightening iron left over from some previous woman. Nope. He didn’t even have a blow dryer.
Her nerves felt like jagged rocks in her stomach as she finally forced herself to leave the bathroom and walk to the kitchen.
“There you are.” He was at the stove. “I was going to come look for you, but I knew if I caught you naked it would be at least another hour before we ate, and I’m starving.”
She was standing there in his T-shirt that fell mid-thigh on her, fingers nervously playing with the hem, waiting for him to really get a good look at her.
He set the plates of eggs and bacon on the table, then walked over and reached down to kiss the side of her neck.
“Mmmm. You’re wearing my shirt, and you smell like my soap. That’s an addictive combination. Sit down and eat before I go all caveman on you again.”
She kept her eyes trained on her plate. “You don’t have to pretend.”
“Pretend what? That I’m debating on whether my body can go another round with you before I get calories into it? That’s definitely going on in my mind.”
She took a step back from him, shaking her head. “I know how I look. I don’t have any of my stuff—my makeup, my hair products. We should’ve gone to my house, then you wouldn’t have to see me like this.” She waved a dismissive hand around her face.
“You do realize that most of your makeup was gone by the end of round number two in the shower last night, right? And that I’d taken all the pins out of your hair by the time we’d left the Eagle’s Nest.”
She felt like the walls were closing in on her. “But it’s not the same. I know it’s not the same. Don’t act like I’m one of the twenty-five-year-olds that you bring here. I know what I look like.”
Baby crossed his arms over his chest. She had to force herself not to look at those delicious muscles. “Well, now you’re being a little bit of a snob, aren’t you Professor Harrison?”