Damaged Goods
Page 42
Sylvia could, but he hadn’t asked her.
“In fact, wouldn’t mind having a chat with Ms. Sylvia about how best to remodel a nice abode like this one. What do you think?” That he asked Sylvia. “Care to help an old man fulfill his dream of having the nicest bed and breakfast inn on this side of 23rd Street?”
“I… I have no idea what to say.”
“Say yes! I hear you’re unemployed now.”
It was true. Sylvia quit working at Decades shortly before Thanksgiving, and as soon as she made concrete plans to move in with Joseph, she was dumping the Italian restaurant. Her boyfriend had paid for her rent through February, anyway. I pretty much live at his place. She only stayed in her rented room when she worked evenings at the restaurant. She couldn’t say she liked being away from her boyfriend those nights – sometimes he made up for it by dropping by and annoying Posey with how loudly he could bang Sylvia’s headboard against the wall. Loudly. Super loudly. Bless him.
“I suppose?” Helping to run a bed and breakfast in a cozy Victorian in a cozier part of Portland? That sounded like the kind of dream the old Sylvia would have had. Back when she fancied herself a future entertainer of the rich and sometimes famous. That dream died when I broke up with Maxwell. Apparently many dreams were coming back now that she was serious with Joseph.
“We’ll leave you to your grand reveal.” Was that a smirk Genevieve had on her face as she and Stanley got into the real estate agent’s car? “Have a pleasant day.”
“Wow,” Joseph muttered as his mother drove off. “Wow.”
Sylvia turned in his arms. “You’re really buying this house, baby?” She didn’t care about his mother and what she was up to. Genevieve wasn’t the meddling type. Stanley, on the other hand…
Joseph held her so close to him that she could barely feel the chill around them. “Yes I am. I’ve already had my bid accepted. We’re going to move into this place as soon as it’s remodeled. Should coincide with my apartment coming up for renewal.”
He lurched backward when she jumped up and squeezed her legs around his waist. The kisses landing on his face were probably welcomed. Probably.
“I take it that makes you happy, huh?” Joseph said.
“Happy? I can’t fucking wait!” This was a dream come true. As much as Sylvia loved the huge manor Maxwell lived in and the penthouse apartment Sebastian once called home, her dream was a large and cute historical home like this one. In a sweet neighborhood? With class and amenities so within walking distance? Sylvia was already imagining sunny mornings on her porch, a stroll through her backyard garden, and then heading down to the local shops and cafés to whittle her days away. If Stanley (and Genevieve, she supposed) wanted her to help out with their new endeavor, then that sounded pretty cozy too! Besides, she needed to keep those people happy. They could very well be her in-laws soon. “Have you checked out the neighborhood yet?”
“I have. Extensively.” Joseph had a firm grip on her thighs. Perhaps too firm. It’s doing things for me, and it’s like forty degrees out here. “I didn’t want to buy unless I was sure you’d like this neighborhood. There’s a teashop at the end of the street I’m sure you’ll love. Very 1920’s chic.”
Sylvia squealed loudly enough to wake up her new neighborhood.
“Can I take a look inside?”
“Well, I don’t have a key yet…” Joseph squeezed her ass, his biceps flexing right in her line of sight. Yes. Sweet. Do me now! “But we could peek through the windows.”
“Not good enough. I want you to fuck me in our new bedroom.”
“Excuse me?” His eyes widened.
She rubbed her nose against forehead, her whole body raring to go as soon as he got hard and they had some privacy. “You heard me, buddy. I wanna get boned on the bedroom floor.”
“That would require breaking and entering…”
“Which I am a pro at, by the way!” Sylvia kissed him, her tongue slipping against his so effortlessly that she failed to see why trespassing so they could fuck the rest of the afternoon away was a bad idea. “Come on, Joseph. Live a little. The irony of you being a cop makes it extra hot. Bad cop. Oooh, and I could be the little strumpet you picked up.”
“The fuck is a strumpet?”
“Me.” She pecked his forehead again. “You and me, baby. Doing it in every room of this house.”
“I like the way you think.” Joseph slowly carried her into the front yard. “Besides, my stepmother did accost me for not giving her grandchildren yet. I’m next on her hit list.”
“Hey, now, I kinda like being on birth control, thanks. These things come in a certain order, you know. Besides, I ain’t even twenty-five yet! Let me get over the hill first!”
“A certain order? Dare I ask?”
“First we move in together, then we get engaged, then we get married, then I bake you some babies up in here.”
“That is such a poetic way to put it.”
“Hey, you’ve got yourself a high-class dame here, copper.”
Joseph looked both ways before full-on trespassing onto property he was soon to own. “Dame? Copper? What’s happening to you?”
Funny, wasn’t it? The happier and more secure she was with Joseph, the more like her old self she became. Not the old self that was naïve and, quite frankly, an embarrassment, but the old self that had certain dreams and aspirations. A cute house, a swell guy, millions of bucks and some babies to spoil silly. Like she said, though: one thing at a time!
“I’m falling even more in love with you, baby.”
They didn’t make it to breaking and entering. They settled for the back porch, which was shielded from any nosy neighbors with a grove of surrounding evergreen trees.
A perfect way to start a happy, no-fuss life together.
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