now,” he said, picking up the phone he’d taken out of his pocket earlier. “Um, yep, it says here that I have to ensure public safety on Fairlane Boulevard. So I guess I better come on by.”
Tennyson laughed and wrapped the blanket around herself. “Good. I expect to be protected and served. Maybe served several times.”
Joseph came back into the bedroom and swept her into his arms, giving her a hard kiss. “If you don’t want to be served right now and embarrass your fancy party planner, you will stop showing me what I’m going to be missing for the next twenty-four hours.”
Tennyson dotted kisses along his jaw before pushing back. “This is crazy, you know.”
“What? Having a good time?”
That was exactly what she’d been thinking, but having him say that it was something just fun made her feel a bit . . . sad? Which was weird because she’d already failed at so many relationships that she’d decreed she would live out the rest of her days as a single woman. She liked being by herself for the most part, and dating the field was fun. Sure, there were some bad apples, but they usually made for good stories when she was with her friends. So, yeah, she wanted to keep it casual with Joseph. After all, they had nothing in common. Not really.
Okay, the sex had been amazing, and she liked him. Or thought she did. She really didn’t know him beyond the four or so times she’d met him and the inane texts they’d shared over the past few weeks. So why would she feel slightly miffed that he wanted to keep her at arm’s length? That was what she wanted. Right?
“Yeah, you’re right. It just happened fast. I’m not usually one for hopping right into bed with a guy. I require at least three dates and a nice bottle of wine.”
Joseph gave her another hard kiss. “You didn’t hop into bed. You hopped into the shower.”
“You know what I mean,” she said.
He headed toward the bedroom door just as the doorbell rang. “You better get dressed. Though I have to say you look fantastic with messy hair and no clothes.”
Tennyson stood and let the blanket drop again. “Think I can answer the door this way?”
“Seriously, woman, you’re killing me. Put on some clothes already before I’m forced to detain you and search your gorgeous body for another hour or two,” he said, giving her another wolfish grin before opening the door. “I’ll let your planner inside before I go.”
“Guess I better put on some clothes and some lipstick. My mom will be here soon, too. She’s southern, which means lipstick is as essential as a good pair of pearls, a nice set of stationery, and a framed picture of Elvis Presley.”
Joseph started shutting the door, but before it closed, he called back, “We’re going to have some fun this summer, Tennyson.”
A whole summer? It might take that long to get the hot cop out of her system. He was awfully good in bed, if not a brilliant conversationalist. But really, who needed someone clattering off facts, details, and observations all the time? There was value in solitude, in a man knowing he didn’t need to fill the air with aimless or even relevant conversation. Sometimes she appreciated a respite. She felt like Joseph was the kind of guy to give her room to breathe, time to sink into herself, and an opportunity to not worry about anything other than just being. He was also good at taking her breath away, so there was that.
She rose and padded into the bathroom, taking a left into her large walk-in closet. She rifled through the lingerie drawer, pulling on a lacy thong and matching bra that would remind her of hot sex with Joseph. She probably needed to shower, but she could smell him on her skin and wasn’t ready to let go of that. She found a simple A-line cotton dress, grabbed a pair of thong sandals, and wound her hair up into a messy bun. A quick dash of powder, mascara for her lashes, and a swipe of Dior lipstick called Insolent, and she was out the door.
And then back for a slight misting of Baccarat Rouge 540.
Because she wanted the smell of Joseph to be hers alone.
When she entered the living room, Marc was sitting on her sofa, balancing a cup of tea on the knee of his natty trousers, and Hot Cop was sitting opposite