Page 126 of Summer with the Single Dad

Huffing a deep sigh out of her nose, she swung her legs over the side of the bed in the trailer and padded across the cool vinyl floor to the bathroom. She needed today’s run more than she’d needed any run in a long time.

She flicked on the bathroom light, only to gasp when she caught her reflection.

Did she have leprosy?

Leaning forward on the vanity, she inspected her neck and clavicle.

Those were bite marks!

And hickeys!

Bennett marked her like some wild, possessive animal last night.

Heat raced up from between her legs into her chest, neck, and face.

He was a very passionate and generous lover to begin with, but last night he seemed to take it up a few levels. She came so many times she lost count and she couldn’t even remember him leaving. She must have passed out, then he snuck away.

And she hadn’t even packed any turtlenecks because it was the freaking summer.

Ugh!

She also hated makeup.

Nevertheless, she smiled.

How could she not?

Bennett ravished her like a sailor home on leave and she lapped up every ounce of his possessive passion.

After she washed her face and brushed her teeth, she went on the hunt for just a loose-fitting, plain T-shirt. That would probably be the most practical thing to wear and cover up the majority of the marks.

She found a plain, white T-shirt that would have to do.

But first, a run.

She yanked on her running gear and went about making her protein shake when the confirmation email for Brooke and hers spa day tomorrow popped up on her phone. She gasped again. She and Brooke were going to the spa so that Justine didn’t have to be on the property for the dumbest wedding of the century. She was going to have to take off her clothes for a massage, facial, and the thermal spa. People—including Brooke—would see her bite marks.

Groaning, she gave her blender bottle a vigorous shake, then chugged it.

Even if she did apply makeup, it would all come off from the massage oil.

This is a first world, sexually satisfied, woman problem.

Right!

She couldn’t pout, mope, or grumble. She needed to walk into that spa with her head held high and wear those marks, like badges of honor. Sex badges.

She lifted her chin higher and plunked her fists on her hips like a superhero.

But then she frowned, sighed, and rolled her eyes, dropping her hands from her hipbones.

Nope.

No matter how long she stood there, she couldn’t banish the embarrassment that her neck and decolletage were riddled with bites and hickeys.

Before too long, there was a gentle knock at the trailer door and she swung it open to find a smiling Bennett. It was light enough now that they didn’t need headlamps. The crickets and frogs were joined by the birds and all three sung their wake-up song for the islanders.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

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