“I was hoping you could help me wash the smoke out of . . .”
He jumped up, playfully tugging me out of bed before I could finish my sentence.
After our shower, Teddy made me a proper English breakfast—bangers and beans with fried eggs. I had never had bangers, but I was open to trying anything when I was with Teddy . . . in and out of bed.
I speared a sausage with my fork and held it up. “There must be a joke in here somewhere . . .”
Teddy held my wrist and with a wry smile said, “I refuse to have you poke fun at that part of my anatomy.”
We took our breakfast onto the porch; the August humidity had returned.
“By the way, you broke another one of my rules,” I said.
“Let’s see, I fed you after two orgasms. Not only did I buy you dinner last night, I cooked it for you. There’s more?”
“My mother told me, ‘Lori,neverperform fellatio on a man unless he’s buying you a house.’”
Teddy almost choked on his tea, then started laughing. “You’re serious?”
“My mother was a real New York City broad, a ballbuster. She didn’t hold back any thought or opinion.”
“I admire that in you.”
I bristled, but then a mixture of pride and elation overcame me. “I hadn’t realized that I’d turned into my mother.”
He gave me a dazzling smile and placed his hand on mine as we sat. I was basking in the sun, the afterglow of our steamy bathroom sex and making him laugh. What I experienced with Teddy was better than anything I could’ve ever dreamed up. I’d never felt as sensual or desired.
He broke the silence. “Woodlands has been my second home for over twenty years. It’s the only place where I feel like my life is uncomplicated. Max loves it here. I met you here.” He squeezed my hand.
I understood his feelings. My kids were having a great summer, and I could easily get used to sitting next to Teddy every day.
I lifted his hand to my lips and kissed it. “Yes, life is perfect at camp.”
He turned on the radio and we danced around the kitchen while cleaning up. We decided to spend the remainder of the morning relaxing on the porch in our bathing suits to soak up the sun. I laughed when he pulled on a pair of very short trunks with the Union Jack across his delectable ass.
“What’s so funny? I’m a proud Englishman.” He shook his butt at me.
I gave it a squeeze.
“This is how we Brits dress when we’re not surrounded by prudish Americans. Come on, join me. Throw on a bikini.”
“I haven’t owned a two piece in well over ten years.”
“Why the hell not? You’ve got great curves you should be proud to show off. Next time I’m in town, I’m buying you one.”
I wished I could see myself through his eyes.
He grabbed his knapsack. “I’m sorry, but I promised Bob I’d take care of some things for Color War. I don’t want it to interfere with our day, so I thought this would be a good time. I’ll get it done quickly, and then my attention will be solely on you.”
I picked up the dog-eared book on the nightstand. “In that case can I read your book? Huh, I’ve never read John le Carré.”
“My dad’s favorite author. He introduced me to him when I was in secondary school, and now I read at least one each summer.”
“Subterfuge, crossing lines, secrets. I can relate to that.”
Settled back on the porch, we were serenaded by motorboats and the laughter of campers as the sun washed over us.
Teddy started working, but I couldn’t focus on the book—I kept sneaking peeks at him. He was so engrossed in figuring out the rosters that he didn’t notice me watching him. I was captivated by the way his eyebrows arched when he concentrated, the way he held the pencil as he scribbled notes. I wanted to remember everything about him, how he put his hand to his mouth when he was thinking, or absently ran his fingers through his hair, the mole on his left shoulder blade.
