“I had a vision of the man I wanted, of course.” She stood beside him and began unbuttoning her sweater. “I wanted someone nice, who wouldn’t whore around on me. Someone average.”
“Like Ben,” Joe said.
“Like Ben.” She shrugged out of her sweater and quickly unhooked her skirt and let it fall to her feet. She’d taken off her blouse earlier, and she only had on the underwear Summer had helped her pick out.
His eyes roved over her, the way she’d intended, the way Summer and the saleslady had assured her they would.
Clearing her throat, she touched the black and cream garter belt attached to the stocking. “The last thing I ever wanted was to become my mum. I thought if I found someone like Ben it’d help me from becoming a floozy. But there was you, and you made me feel like being wild.”
Joe looked into her eyes, compassion for her in his gaze. “Em.”
“But I was wrong. I’m not my mother.” She sat on top of his desk, putting her feet on either side of his chair. “I’m not going to do the things she did, and I can treat myself a little without feeling like I’ll go off the deep end. And you knew this about me. You woke up the senses I’ve shut off. You knew me, even when I didn’t quite know myself.”
He ran his hands along her legs, up to wear her thigh was bared by the edge of the silk, rolling his chair closer. “I don’t want a fling, Em.”
Shaking her head, she framed his face with her hands. “We’re forever.”
He cupped her chin. “I don’t need the fancy lingerie. I only want you.”
“You don’t like it?”
“I love it, actually.” His gaze roamed down her body. “It’s criminal how you hide yourself behind your bland clothing, but if this is what I have to look forward to, then I’m a lucky man.”
She glanced down at the black bustier. It propped her up like cream puffs on a platter. “Mum liked to wear red. I’ve never worn it, and I’m not sure that I ever can.”
“Red is obvious.” Joe bent his head to her neck and inhaled, his hands gripping her hips.
“I brought cake,” she said as she lowered her mouth to his.
Their lips touched as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “You don’t eat dessert,” he reminded her, the words soft between kisses.
“Maybe a little dessert can’t hurt.” She nuzzled his neck and nibbled him in that spot that she was claiming forever. “Maybe you’ll help me indulge.”
“Forever, love.” He gathered her onto his lap and held her close. “Forever.”
Chapter Thirty-three
“I’ve had an epiphany,” Summer said as she glided into the South Street kitchen.
Rosalind looked up from reading emails on her phone. “That having sisters is a pain in the ass? Because I could have told you that.”
Summer kissed Fran on the cheek and sat across from her. “I was out shopping with my friend Em.”
“Tell me you didn’t buy black,” Rosalind said, setting her phone aside.
“I didn’t.” Based on the hint of blush that crept up her neck, there was more to that story than she was saying. “But that’s not what I came to tell you. It’s that you can’t let love pass you by. You have to go for who you want.”
She knew Summer meant well, but still. “I don’t want Nick.”
Summer rolled her eyes. “Is that how you’re going to be?”
Fran set a plate of cookies on the table between them. “We all know that’s utter shite, lamb.”
She crossed her arms, ready to defend herself.
But Portia walked in, sighing when she saw Summer. “You’re here again? Maybe you should just move in.”
“You think so?” Summer said, looking surprised.
Smiling brilliantly, Fran pulled out two more cups for tea. “That’s a wonderful idea. Summer’s entitled to half the house. This way, we don’t have to sell the house, and you’ll get to know all of us, Summer. How clever you are, Portia!”
By the look on her sister’s face, she hadn’t meant to be that clever. Portia had been wary of Summer, more than any of the rest of them had been. But Rosalind supposed that made sense, since Portia had always felt more insecure than the rest of them.
Fran set the teacups in front of Summer and Portia. “There you go, loves. Gigi isn’t up yet?”
“Beauty sleep,” Rosalind and Portia said at the same time.
“So back to you and Nick,” Summer began.
Rosalind groaned. “What does this matter to you? It shouldn’t be that important.”