and stepped back so he could pass. Prada stopped chewing and watched him as he walked by.
Joseph made an annoyed face, but she didn’t miss that he also noted her parted caftan, which did a great job of showcasing the valley between her breasts. “Sure. Whatever works for you.”
Following him back to the house, Tennyson fluffed her hair and pinched her cheeks. Like a nutcase. She had no clue why she was attracted to this cop. She needed to get a grip. “Officer Rhett, I mean Joe, can I offer you a drink for your trouble? I have beer, vodka, and wine.”
“It’s Joseph. Not Joe. And you realize I’m on duty at present, right?”
She felt sort of dumb now. “I’m sorry. Of course you are. I’m just very appreciative of you. You know, having to come save me twice over the last few weeks. I’m going to have to vote yes to fund police raises.”
“I don’t think . . .” Joseph stopped inside the house and turned to her. “Never mind. Thanks. I could use a raise.”
And then he smiled.
Hot damn, the man had a great smile. “Uh, a bottled water then?”
He stood for a moment, looking at her. “You look a lot different than you did the last time I was here. That mask thing must really work.”
Tennyson had no idea how it happened, but it happened—she blushed. “Oh well, if you pay enough you can repair anything.”
It was the wrong thing to say because his smile disappeared. “That’s what they say. I’ll see myself out, but you probably need to lock up after I leave. You’ve checked all the windows, correct? We don’t want random raccoons, squirrels, or a curious burglar to come inside.”
“I don’t want specific ones,” she quipped.
He made a confused face.
“You said random . . . uh, it was just a joke,” she said, wondering if he even had a sense of humor. It wasn’t a requirement, though she usually preferred a man who had one.
Tennyson led the way to the front door, strangely disappointed. She wasn’t sure what she expected to happen between her and Officer Rhett. She wanted to see him again but didn’t know how to ask him point-blank—she had never asked a man out before. Never had to. And though his gaze had held a flicker of interest, she wasn’t sure he was into her enough to accept a clumsy invitation to dinner or coffee. He was a man doing his job. That was all. “I have a security system I need to get activated, but I checked the windows after Rocky ransacked my bedroom, and they are all secure. Plus I have Prada now. She’s got a ferocious bark.”
Joseph snorted.
“Well, I’m sorry about the whole bag thing. I guess I . . . I just thought it would be best to call you and make sure. Now that I’m divorced, I’m here alone.” Of course not totally alone anymore since Andrew and Emma were a stone’s throw away, but he didn’t have to know that.
Joseph paused at the door and turned to her. “I’ll stop in sometime and check on you. I patrol this area frequently, and I don’t live too far away, either. You have my card if you need me.”
Tennyson bit her lip, playing a bit ingenue before saying, “That would be nice, Joseph.”
He paused a full five seconds and studied her. She could feel something change. Or perhaps she wanted to feel that way, as if he saw something worthwhile in her.
“Okay, then, have a good night, ma’am,” he said with a curt nod.
“Tennyson,” she reminded him.
“Tennyson,” he said, his mouth curving slightly. “Take care.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Two weeks later
Melanie counted the crystal one final time. Seven rows of ten. Seventy glistening champagne flutes ready to toast her daughter with the Veuve Clicquot currently chilling in the extra refrigerator. Kit had picked the boxes of bubbly up from the Bottle Shoppe earlier in the day and brought them home, his one concession to helping with the party. Maureen Godfrey had delivered the layer cake earlier. The ballet-pink cake with the scalloped fondant sat atop the buffet on the crystal pedestal that Melanie had received as a gift for her own wedding. All that was left was for the caterers to arrive.
Where were they?
She glanced at her watch and straightened the monogrammed napkins she’d ordered for rush delivery for the third time. The caterers were now thirty minutes behind schedule. Dang it.
“Oh my goodness, Mom,” Emma said, stepping into the