“I was busy making you moan with other things,” I remind her, and grin when she bites her lip. Kat is a stunning woman. I’ve now seen her without her makeup and all done up, and she’s amazing no matter what. I’m surprised how much I like her style. I’m usually a conservative man, but Kat’s fun rockabilly look fits her to a tee. Her tattoos are bright and colorful, and her clothing is tasteful but edgy at the same time.
“What are you thinking?” she asks. My eyes find hers. They’re heavy and watching me lazily.
“That I love your look.”
She smirks. “You either love me or hate me.”
“I disagree.” I tug the other foot into my lap, remove the expensive shoe, and get to work. “You’re not in-your-face with your style, Kat. It’s simply you. Just like some women prefer jeans and T-shirts, or any other kind of style. You’re not being rebellious.”
“I’m too old for that shit.”
“Exactly. I like it.”
“Thanks.” She grins and someone knocks at the door with our room-service order. “Don’t think you’re saved from rubbing my feet.”
“I wouldn’t dare assume that,” I reply with a laugh, and walk over to retrieve our late-night snack. When I return, Kat is typing furiously on her phone.
“Mia is hilarious,” she says with a smirk, then smiles when I set her sundae next to her. “Oh God, there’s chocolate too.”
“I also ordered cheesecake and cookies, just in case.”
“You’re good at room service.”
“I’m good at a lot of things.” I spoon up some ice cream and hold it up to her mouth.
“That’s delicious.”
She concentrates on her phone, smiling at the response she’s getting from her friend while shoveling more ice cream into her perfect mouth. Watching her eat is making my dick hard.
Pretty much everything she does makes my dick hard.
She smirks. “My friend Mia is so funny.”
“Mia?” I ask, enjoying the sugar, rubbing her feet, and watching her reactions to her friend’s texts.
“She’s one of my business partners. She runs the kitchen. And when I say run, I mean she’s a dictator in the kitchen.”
“She must be good at her job.”
“She is,” she replies proudly. “And she works harder than any of us, and trust me, we all work hard. But Mia hardly leaves the restaurant, and I swear, she never sleeps.”
“She’ll burn out.”
“That’s what we tell her too, but she’s stubborn. That’s probably why we get along so well.”
“It’s late.”
“She’s probably just heading home,” Kat says, then smirks again. “She’s asking me about my sexcation.”
“Who came up with that term?” I ask, and run my hand up her calf.
“I don’t remember,” she says with a frown. “It was when Addie, another of my partners, was going through some issues in her love life, before she met her husband, and we were encouraging her to go have some fun.”
“And did she?”
She shrugs. “She met Jake, and they started bouncing around together.”
“Bouncing around.” I laugh and shake my head. “You’re funny.”
“Well, they did. And now they’re married, and about to have a baby. I can’t wait for that baby.”
“Do you like babies?”
“Not usually.” She cocks her head to the side, a slight frown between her eyebrows. “Kids usually drive me nuts. Cami loves babies. But this is different. It’s Addie.”
She says it so simply. It’s her friend’s baby, so of course she’ll love it.
“Okay, I need you to break this down for me,” I begin, and shift in the chair, switching feet again. “Who is who and how many business partners do you have?”
She finishes tapping on her screen, then sets her phone aside and settles in with her ice cream, giving me her full attention.
Which is just how I like it.
“There are five of us,” she begins. “Mia, who is a chef like I said. Addie, who runs the front of the house. Cami is our accountant. Riley is in charge of marketing and public relations. And me.”
“And you run the bar.”
“I do.” She nods.
“How did you all meet?”
“Well, Mia, Addie, and Cami have known each other since they were little kids. They grew up together. Then Riley and I came into the fold in college. I was Mia’s roommate, and Riley was Cami’s.”
“And you were just all instantly friends?”
“Well, I was a bratty kid. I was more like the little sister.”
“What do you mean?” I ask with a frown.
“I’m younger than them by a couple years.” She shrugs. “I went to college at sixteen.”
“Really.”
“Yeah. It’s no big deal.”
“What was your major?”
“I have a doctorate in psychology.”
I blink and feel my eyebrows climb. “And you’re a bartender?”
“I’m a business owner,” she replies sharply, and I hold my hands up in surrender.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be offensive. I’m surprised.”
“My parents thought I’d be a scientist, like them.”
“What do they do?”
“They’re rocket scientists. Literally. Two of the biggest brains in the country, and their daughter is a bartender.”
“A business owner,” I remind her with a wink. Jesus, I had no idea. I knew she was smart, but not this.
“Well, it’s not what they expected.”
“Are they angry? Do they give you shit for it?”
“Oh no.” She shakes her head and sets her empty bowl aside. “My parents are awesome. They’re just happy that I’m happy, but I’m sure they’d rather I was working in an office with my name on the door, Ph.D. after my name, charging two hundred dollars an hour.”
“And why don’t you?”
She nibbles her lip for a moment and leans back, crossing her hands over her full belly. Her hair is starting to work free of its pins. I want to sink my fingers in that hair.
“I sort of do. I mean, isn’t there a whole cliché about people going to the bar to spill their guts to the bartender?” She grins. “I’ve heard stories at that bar that would make your hair curl. I give advice. And I get to also work with wine, which I love. I’m running a successful business with my best friends. I’d say I have the best of all worlds.”
“So you do,” I reply, and smile when she yawns again. “You’re exhausted, Red.”
“Yeah.” She sighs sweetly. “It’s been a fun week, Mac.”
“I won’t argue with you there.”
“When do you go home?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Me too.” She sinks farther into the chair, and she’s fighting to keep her eyes open now. “My flight is at nine in the morning.”
“Mine as well.”
“Are you going back to Portland?”
I nod.
“It would be funny if we’re on the same flight again.” She frowns. “I don’t want to fly. Maybe I should just rent a car and drive back up.”
“You’re a strong woman, Kat. You’ll be just fine.”
“I’m badass.” Her voice is soft, and in her black yoga shorts and faded Pokémon T-shirt, she doesn’t look badass.
But she is.
“Exactly.”
“You’re putting me to sleep with all that foot rubbing.”
“I think you’d be going to sleep anyway.”
“What about the sexy time?”
“It might have to wait until the morning.” I stand and pull her out of the chair, and guide her to the bed, tucking her in.
“Don’t go.”
She holds on to my hand tightly. Wild horses couldn’t pull me away from her tonight.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’m just going to get undressed.”
Her lips twitch as her eyes close.
“Good plan.”
I strip down to my boxer briefs, turn off the lights, and climb in next to her. She’s already snoring softly, making me smile. I lie in the darkness and watch her, the moon shining over her face and arm, casting them in light blue. She shifts, nudging her way into my arms, her head on my chest, and holds on tightly.
This isn’t how I envisioned us ending our sexcation, but I don’t mind.
“I can’t believe they switched seats with you,” she says, her voice shaky, as she buckles her seat belt and looks around the cabin of the plane nervously.
“Switching seats happens all the time,” I assure her.
“Can I get you anything before we take off?” the flight attendant asks.
“Waters, please. In bottles if you have them.”
She nods and inches her way through the line of people making their way to their seats.
“I really don’t want to die in a plane.”
She’s wringing her hands. I hate watching her like this. My strong, badass woman is reduced to a shaking, nervous wreck.
“You’ve already done this once, and it’s the same flight, only in reverse.”
She nods, but I can see she’s not buying it.
“You can hold my hand.”
“Okay. At least that’s not so awkward this time.”
I grin. “Not awkward in the least.” She’s biting her lips. “How does your lipstick not come off?”
“It’s a stain,” she replies, and smiles at the flight attendant when she’s given water. She tries to open it, but her hands are shaking too hard. “I can’t grip it.”
“I got it.” I open it for her and hand it back.
“I feel like an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot.” I rub her thigh firmly. “You have a phobia, Kat. The fact that you’re facing it head-on is pretty fucking admirable.”
“At least Landon isn’t here.”
I freeze and frown at the pure jealousy that shoots through me. Kat isn’t mine. I don’t have a claim on her. Yet the mention of another man’s name doesn’t sit well with me.
“Landon?”
“Mia’s brother. He’s married to Cami.”
I relax, and don’t take the time to examine my reaction. It doesn’t matter who he is. After we land in Portland, she’ll never see me again if she has her way.
Except, she will. She just doesn’t know it yet.
“He’s a pilot,” she continues. “And he makes fun of me for being afraid of flying. In an annoying, brotherly sort of way.”
“Well, I’m not making fun of you.”
“Good because I’d have to punch you and I like your nose where it is.” She takes a deep breath and scrubs her hands over her face when we taxi toward the runway.
“I prefer my nose where it is as well.”
We speed down the runway and take off, and Kat simply stops breathing.
“Take a breath.”
She shakes her head, then gasps when we hit a pocket of air and the plane jerks sideways.
“It’s just rough air,” I say calmly.
She nods, but she’s still not breathing.
“Kat, I can’t take my seat belt off to give you CPR for another ten minutes. I need you to breathe, sweetheart.”
She takes a breath, but doesn’t smile at my poor attempt at humor.
The captain comes over the speakers.
“Thanks for joining us today, ladies and gentlemen. We have a flight today of just under three hours. We’re going to try to get you there a little early, but there are reports of some rough air today, so we’re going to keep that seat belt sign on. The flight attendants will be through with refreshments when it’s safe for them to do so. We’ll do our best to find a smooth altitude for you, but do keep those seat belts on. The weather in Portland is overcast, with a high of sixty-three today.”
“Oh God, more rough air,” she whispers. “Why do my flights have rough air? Everyone always tells me that flying is like riding in a car, but it’s not. It’s like being on a roller coaster a mile in the sky. And I hate roller coasters.”
I take her hand and hold on tight. “Look at me, Kat.”
“I can’t.”
“I said look at me.” Her gaze swings to mine. “You are fine. I promise you, nothing bad is going to happen.”
“I don’t like it.”
Tears threaten, and it just about kills me. When the ding sounds, letting us know we’ve hit higher than ten thousand feet, and the flight attendants stand, I gesture for one to come to me.
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m letting you know now that in a few minutes I’m going to unbuckle her belt and put her in my lap. She’s terrified.”
She frowns. “Sir, we need her to keep her belt on—”
“I’m not asking,” I reply calmly. “And I’m not being disrespectful, but look at her. She can’t breathe. She’s panicked. I’m just going to calm her.”
Kat isn’t even listening to us. She’s resting her elbows on her knees, rocking gently, face in her hands.
The flight attendant nods. “Okay. But if we hit severe turbulence, she’ll need to buckle up.”
“Understood.”
I don’t wait. I unbuckle Kat’s belt and lift her easily onto my lap.
“What are you doing?”
“Holding you,” I reply. Once she’s settled, her head on my chest, I plug my earbuds into my phone, slip one into my ear, then one in hers, and find my yoga playlist. She sighs. “Just breathe.” I kiss her head.
We sit like this for a long while, listening to soothing music while she concentrates on breathing. We hit one rough spot and she fists my shirt, but I take her hand in mine and kiss it, then link our fingers. “You’re okay.”
“This isn’t bad,” she concedes. “They should offer you on every flight.”
I smirk. “I’m too expensive.”
We land too quickly for my taste. I would have gladly flown all day with Kat curled up in my lap.
“We made it,” she says with a gusty sigh.
“In one piece.”
She grins as we taxi to the gate. “Thank you. If I ever try to take my life in my own hands again and fly somewhere, I’ll call you.”
You haven’t asked for my number, sweetheart. She also hasn’t asked what I do for work, where I live, or even my last name. She’s been sure to keep our weeklong relationship purely superficial.
“I think you’ll be fine,” I reply. “You’re a pro now.”
She shakes her head. “No way.”
We exit the plane, and she stops in the gate area to turn to me. “I had a great week.”
“I did too.”
She stands on her tiptoes and raises her mouth to mine, kissing me softly but thoroughly as people rush around us.
Finally, she backs away, cups my cheek, and smiles up at me. “Good-bye, Mac.”
“Good-bye, Kat.”
She walks away, her heels clicking smartly as she drags her cherry-covered bag behind her. Her hips sway enticingly.
When the crowd swallows her up, I turn on my phone and make a call.
“It’s Mac. We need to make some changes.”
Chapter Five
~Kat~
“And you haven’t heard from him since?” Owen, one of my favorite customers, asks two weeks later. He’s leaning on the bar, sipping his usual Jack and Coke.
“Nope,” I reply, shaking my head.
“Huh.” He sips his drink. “You know, sometimes men just suck, Kat.”
“Oh, trust me. I know.” I laugh and wipe the bar down for the fourth time. It’s not dirty. Owen is the only customer in the place right now. I’m waiting for a wine-tasting tour to come through in about thirty minutes. “Let me ask you something.”
“Fire away.”
“When a woman sleeps with a man, does that automatically trigger something in his brain that says he’s finished with her? Like, if they aren’t in a committed relationship.”
“You’r
e the shrink,” he replies with a gusty breath.
“I’m not a man,” I remind him.
“True.” He rubs his cleanly shaven chin and narrows his handsome blue eyes at me. “When I first started dating Jen, I was an ass. I thought I just wanted to get laid.”
“Well, you were young.”
“I was a young ass.” He shrugs. “And she called me out on it. Maybe that’s what you need to do. Call him out.”
Owen’s a smart man. He’s been coming into my bar regularly for a long time, ever since he and his wife were having a hard time of it and he didn’t want to go home after work. They’ve worked things out, but he still stops in a couple times a week to chat and have a drink. I like him.
“Who are you calling out?” Riley asks as she walks into the room.
“No one,” I reply immediately, and give Owen the shut-up look, but he doesn’t notice.
“The guy she hooked up with in California. He hasn’t called.”
“Kat.” Riley props her hands on her hips and stares at me as if I’m an idiot. Which I totally am.
“What?”
“You told him it was just a sexcation.”
“So?”
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
“What’s a sexcation?” Owen asks.
“It’s pretty much what it sounds like,” I reply, and bite my bottom lip.
“You didn’t give him your number,” Owen guesses correctly.
“He knows where I work,” I reply. “If he was interested, he could find me.”
“Except you told him he had no chance and to basically not even bother trying,” Riley says. If I was a guy I think she’d slap the back of my head.
Because I am being an idiot.
“What, a girl can’t change her mind?”
“No. Not this time,” Owen says, shaking his head. “Here I was thinking the guy was a schmuck, but he probably thinks he has no chance with you anyway, so why set himself up for humiliation? I’d do the same.”
“I’m a schmuck,” I mutter.
“You’re a woman,” Riley says. “We’re not genetically wired to have sex without feelings. It’s okay.”
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