Blush for Me (Page 56)

“Are we going to the beach?”

“Just get off the damn bed, Kat.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chapter Seventeen

~Kat~

There’s no way that I can nap. A man can’t tell me that he has presents for me and then expect me to sleep. That’s not how any of this works.

Silly man.

So instead I spend about fifteen minutes in the shower, shaving and scrubbing and doing my best to feel human again. Ugh, I don’t plan to get that drunk ever again. I should warn my customers what this feels like, in case they don’t remember, so when they’re close to the point of no return, I can remind them how they’ll feel the next morning and save them from this.

Of course, that’s not a good way to sell drinks.

I step out of the shower and twist my hair up in a towel. After I’ve applied an ample amount of lotion to soothe my dehydrated skin, I get to work on my makeup. It’s my birthday. I need to look pretty.

Also, I have no idea what Mac has planned today, so I have to be prepared for anything.

Satisfied with my face, I get to work on my hair, twisting it up in loose curls around my face, 1950s style.

I complete the look with a white rockabilly dress with black polka dots and a red belt, finishing it off with my favorite red heels.

I throw my wallet, lipstick, phone, and a few odds and ends in a yellow patent-leather handbag and walk out to find Mac.

“One hour on the dot,” he says with a grin from his perch at the breakfast bar.

“I’m punctual,” I reply with a laugh. “Now what?”

“Now I tell you that you’re absolutely stunning.” He licks his lips and pulls me close to him. “This dress is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous good or ridiculous bad?” I whisper as he drags his knuckles down my cheek and neck.

“It hugs your figure perfectly, and I’m dying to see what you’re wearing under it.”

“Ridiculous good, then,” I reply with a smile. “If you’re nice to me, you’ll get to find out what’s under it later.”

His eyes narrow, but his lips twitch in humor. “I like a challenge.”

“I know.” I lean in to kiss him, then pull away. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere,” he replies, and shuts his laptop.

“Can you at least tell me if I’m dressed appropriately for whatever you have planned for today?”

“Absolutely.” He’s wearing khaki pants and a green button-down. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows. His shoulders and arms fill it out perfectly, making my mouth water.

“What are you thinking?” he asks as he guides me down the hall to the elevator.

“That I must be feeling better because I’ve just eye-fucked you twice in this hallway.”

He cocks a brow as he presses the button for the elevator.

“Is that right?”

I nod.

“Well, if you’re nice to me, I’ll fuck you brainless later.”

“Hmm. I like a challenge.” I offer him a sweet smile, then laugh with him and walk out to his car.

A few moments later, we’re on the freeway heading north and Mac is fiddling with the stereo, pulling up music on his phone.

“Oh, Adele! Let’s listen to this. Her new album is awesome.”

“My pleasure,” he says with a smile, and holds my hand as we drive. Finally, ten minutes later, I can’t stand it anymore.

“Where are we going?”

“Just over the bridge to Vancouver,” he replies calmly. “I thought we could have lunch on the waterfront.”

“I’m actually really hungry,” I reply, laying a hand on my belly. “I think my stomach is empty.”

“I’m sure it is, after you threw up when we got home.”

“Oh God.” I hang my head in my hands in pure embarrassment. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I haven’t behaved like that in years.”

“It was your birthday,” he replies with a shrug. “You were actually pretty funny.”

“Oh God,” I say again.

“The video on YouTube already has half a million views.”

“WHAT?” I pivot in my seat, staring at him in horror, and he begins to laugh his ass off.

“Kidding.”

“Jerk.”

“I’ll keep the video all to myself.”

“There is no video,” I reply, and punch him in the shoulder, hurting my hand all over again. “Ow!”

“Aww, poor baby.” He takes my hand and kisses the knuckles. “I had no idea you were so violent. I’ve learned a lot about you in the past two days.”

“I’m not usually violent,” I reply. “Now that I know we’re going to get food, I’m starving.”

“Good.” He kisses my hand once more, then takes the first exit off the freeway when we get over the bridge into Vancouver. He guides the car through a little neighborhood of condos and shops, and pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant with the best views of the Columbia River that I’ve ever seen.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here,” I say as I get out of the car and follow Mac to the door. “There’s a path along the river.”

“Yep. We can go for a walk after lunch, if you want, but you’re not really wearing the right shoes for it.”

“We’ll see. I can always go barefoot.”