I cast my mind back to the rules and regs I studied meticulously in the academy.
Yep, it totally is.
“Be back in an hour. Have fun, you two.” He glances to Petal before pulling the door closed behind him.
I slump on the couch.
Dangerous territory, Tennison.
I chuckle at my own Hammond accent in my head.
Yawning, I curl up on the couch, trying to squeeze in by Petal. Five minutes later, my body aches from trying to balance on the edge to save moving the pup.
I can’t. I roll off and pad around the apartment. The small space has a large flatscreen, the couch Petal has taken over, a small wooden coffee table that looks like it’s straight from Goodwill. Knowing this man, it probably is.
There are two doors off the kitchenette. The one on the left opens to the small bathroom that has a toilet and shower over an old style claw-foot bath. Bet Miles—wow, that really does feel odd—doesn’t even fit in it... ButIwould.
No, London.
Don’t.
I try the second door, if only to distract myself.
It opens to a king bed and two plain bedside tables, one with a book and an alarm clock. A dresser littered with photos of Miles and some guy that has a megawatt smile plastered across his face doing various adventurous things. In one they’re... on a farm?
Ranch, they call them ranches over here.
I’ll never get used to all the new words for old things.
Weariness washes over me.
And I can’t resist the pull of the biggest, softest-looking bed I’ve ever seen. I sit on the side, gliding a hand over the navy duvet.
“Oh, god.”
I moan, laying back. The bed gives way and huddles me in its snuggly softness all at once. Rolling over, I crawl up the bed. Before my mind has time to catch up with my exhausted body, I’m under the covers, head pressed into most incredible scent-covered pillow...
Just a few minutes.
Chapter 11
MILES
London Tennison is asleep in my damn bed.
A feisty firefighting brunette version of Goldilocks. I’m not mad about it. It should be weird. I should have taken her home.
So many should-haves.
I’ll push them aside with all the don’ts and can’ts I’ve been reeling through since I left my apartment. I can’t get involved with London. I don’t need the distraction. I can’t put her probationary period in jeopardy by getting involved. I can’t...
Get her out of my damn head.
My body.
My dreams.
“Your girl snores, bud.” Laws flops on the sofa.
