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Blush for Me

Page 9

by Kristen Proby


  “Are you close to your parents?”

  He pauses, dragging his fingertips up and down my arm. He gives me goose bumps.

  “No,” he replies after a long moment. “Are you close to your parents?”

  I want to keep asking questions, but I don’t want to pry. If he wants to talk, he’ll talk.

  “I love my parents,” I begin, and sip his coffee, trying to find the right words. “They gave me many advantages when I was young, and I think they love me the best way they can.”

  “What does that mean?” he asks with a smile.

  “It means that they’re awesome, but they are consumed with their work and charities and their life.” I shrug. “And I’m okay with that because I have the same things going on.”

  “Do you see them often?”

  “A couple times a year,” I reply, and kiss Mac’s cheek. “Mom calls me every Sunday evening, and we talk for about ten minutes. They keep a town house here in Portland, but they’re based out of L.A. That’s where their lab is. They’re good people. Highly intelligent. And if I ever needed anything, they’d be here. I just haven’t needed anything.”

  “You’re incredibly independent.” He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear.

  “I always have been. I don’t have siblings. I have always been able to entertain myself, and to solve my own problems.”

  “Doesn’t that get exhausting?” he asks quietly. I bite my lip.

  “I’ve never thought of it that way.”

  “Hmm.” He kisses my temple again, then Mac takes my Kindle out of my hands and wakes it up. “What are we reading?”

  “One of my favorites,” I reply with a yawn. “I reread it all the time.”

  And then, to my utter surprise, he begins to read aloud and it could be the sexiest thing that I’ve ever seen. His voice is deep and smooth; as he reads the words effortlessly his free hand glides gently up and down my back, soothing me.

  He’s really very good at soothing me.

  I tuck my forehead against his neck. I can hear the words. I can feel the words. I’m wrapped in a thick blanket of my favorite story and I’ve never been so content in my life.

  Mac reaches the first sexy part of the story and he pauses as he reads silently ahead, then continues. The hand on my back tightens, just a bit, and it’s the only indication he gives that the words are affecting him.

  But suddenly he stands with me in his arms, and still reading, carries me back to the bedroom.

  “You like this part?” I ask.

  “I like this part.” He sets the Kindle aside and proceeds to show me just how much he likes it.

  “Hey Owen.” I smile at him as he takes a seat at my bar. “How was your weekend?”

  “We had a great weekend,” he says, nodding when I pass him his favorite drink. “I took Jen out of town for a couple of days.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Just to the beach,” he replies, and wiggles his eyebrows. “It’s a good thing we had a great view of the water from our room because we didn’t leave the room much, if you know what I mean.”

  “Good for you.” I offer him my fist to bump. “I’m so happy that you did that for the two of you. I’m sure Jen appreciated it.”

  “Oh, trust me, she did. She couldn’t keep her hands off of me.”

  I grin. “Good job. Where on the beach did you go?”

  “Cannon Beach.”

  “That’s my favorite,” I reply happily. It’s less than two hours from Portland, but when you’re there it feels like you’re in a completely different world. “I should go over there sometime soon. It’s been a while.”

  “You definitely should,” Owen says with a nod.

  Mac walks into the bar, and I feel my whole face light up.

  “I guess I’m not the only one who had a good weekend,” Owen mutters, and I roll my eyes, then join Mac at the other end of the bar.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he replies, and reaches over the bar to tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear. “How are you?”

  “I’m great. Not much has changed since I saw you this morning.” I look closely now and see that despite his smile, his eyes look a little sad. “What’s wrong?”

  He simply shakes his head. “How late will you be working tonight?”

  “We close at eleven on Mondays,” I reply. “But I could probably get out of here around nine.”

  “No hurry,” he says. “Just text me when you get home. I’d like to show you something.”

  “Really.” I bat my eyelashes, trying to make him smile. “I believe you showed that to me this morning.”

  “Well, I wasn’t thinking of that, but yes. That. And something else too.”

  “I don’t love surprises,” I reply, but then immediately feel like an ungrateful brat. “But thank you.”

  “You’ll like this one.” He winks and backs away to leave.

  “That’s the only thing you came in here for?”

  “I was in the neighborhood. And I wanted to see you.”

  “Those both sound like good reasons.”

  He smiles now, and I want to ask him again what’s wrong, but I don’t. This is my job, and it’s not my place to try to pull emotions out of him that he isn’t ready to share.

  I’ll prod a bit more this evening.

  “So I take it things are working out for you and Mr. Sexcation,” Owen says after Mac has left.

  “We’re not doing too bad,” I reply with a wink. “Now tell me more about your sexcation.”

  “Oh God, please stop saying that word,” Riley says, rolling her eyes, as she walks into the room. “I don’t want to hear about anyone getting laid.”

  “That’s because you’re not getting laid,” I remind her.

  “Thanks.” She narrows her eyes at me and, standing behind Owen where he can’t see her, tugs her bra up higher around her.

  “That’s hot.” I smile and cross my arms, watching the show.

  “I’m cordless,” she says grumpily. She’s wearing an adorable teal top with lace on the arms and shoulders. “I can’t wear a regular bra with this shirt.”

  “So you’re strapless,” I say, correcting her with a laugh.

  “Whatever. It’s effing uncomfortable. Sorry, Owen.”

  He just shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink. “It’s never a dull moment around here.”

  My cell phone buzzes in my pocket. I frown down at Grace’s name on the caller ID.

  “This is Kat.”

  “Hi, it’s Grace. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to make it in to work today. My little boy is running a fever and I’m taking him to urgent care now.”

  I close my eyes and watch my early night with Mac fly right out the window. But that’s what you get when you own your own business.

  “It’s okay. I hope it’s nothing serious.”

  “Thank you so much,” she says. I can hear tears threatening. I can’t imagine how scary it must be when your kiddo is sick. “I’ll be in tomorrow.”

  “We’ll play it by ear,” I assure her. “Just get him feeling better.”

  “You’re the best, Kat. Thanks.”

  I hang up and glance at Riley. “Looks like it’s just me tonight.”

  “I can stay and help,” she offers.

  “It’s fine. Mondays are usually pretty tame.” I laugh when Riley readjusts herself again, not caring in the least now that Owen can see her. “Maybe you should go home and put on something more comfortable.”

  She sighs. “That sounds like heaven. If you need me, just call and I’ll come in and help.”

  I nod and blow her a kiss as she leaves. Addie’s out today, at a doctor’s appointment. Cami’s working from home. Even Mia took the day off, which never happens.

  So, it’s just me in charge tonight. I shoot Mac a quick text. It’s going to be a late night for me. I’m sorry. Raincheck?

  Owen pays his tab and walks out of the bar just as I get a response from Ma
c.

  Text when you get home. I don’t care what time it is.

  I smirk. He’s in bossy mode. I’ll never admit it to anyone else, but I love his bossy side.

  I shoot him a reply: okeydokey.

  For the first time since I opened the bar, I can’t wait for closing time so I can go home.

  It’s past midnight when I finally slog my way up the elevator to my condo. I’m exhausted. Of course it was this Monday that we got busy, and I was short-staffed in the bar. I didn’t call Riley back because she’d already put in a full day. I managed.

  But damn, I’m tired.

  I walk into my place and drop my bag and keys on the table by the door, kick out of my shoes, and pull my phone out of my back pocket.

  Part of me hopes he’s asleep so I can go crash on the bed for a few hours.

  I’m home. Sorry it’s so late, we got busy.

  I take the pins out of my hair, then brush it vigorously and pull it up in a high ponytail. My phone buzzes.

  No problem. Meet me at the elevator. Bring your Kindle.

  I don’t bother slipping back into my shoes and walk barefoot down the hall just as the elevator opens and there’s Mac, looking tall and sexy.

  “You’re tired,” he says.

  “To the bone,” I reply, and join him in the elevator. I immediately wrap my arms around his torso and lean into him. “But this is nice.”

  “What happened at work?”

  “My help called out with a sick kid, and we got slammed. I was the only owner there tonight, so I was also fielding questions and stuff. It was just super busy.”

  The doors close. “Check it out,” he says. “The code to the top floor is four-nine-five-five.”

  “Okay.”

  “Remember it.”

  “Yes, sir.” I smile and close my eyes, enjoying the way he’s tucked me against his side so I can rest my head on his shoulder. When we reach the top, he leads me out of the elevator. I expect him to walk to the door of his condo, but he leads me in the opposite direction.

  “This way,” he says, holding my hand. “This is one of the reasons that I bought the place.”

  He opens a gate, and we step into the most beautiful rooftop terrace I’ve ever seen. Pots of flowers are blooming in a riot of different colors. Edison lights crisscross overhead, and they’re lit, casting a pretty glow to the space. In the middle is a pergola with deep-cushioned furniture.

  “I can remove the cover,” he says, watching my gaze. He clicks a button and it rolls back, revealing a big skyful of stars.

  “Mac, this is gorgeous.”

  He nods and gestures for me to sit next to him on a couch, then pulls me against him.

  “I was never much of a snuggler,” I say, and sigh when he tips my chin up so he can kiss me deeply. “But this is nice.”

  “I won’t disagree with you there,” he says. “I think this is a great place to come relax, read, nap. And now you have access to it too.”

  I look up at him in surprise. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to.” He smiles. “Honestly, I haven’t used it much since I moved in. I might more now, with you. But even if I’m not home, you’re welcome to come up here and use the space.”

  I take a deep breath and do my best to keep the threatening tears at bay. “This might be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  He frowns down at me, but I continue before he can say anything.

  “I mean it. You pay attention, and that means a lot.”

  He takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles. “You mean a lot.”

  And, just like that, my heart melts. “Thank you.” I hug him tight, then look around excitedly. “I’m going to get a lot of use out of this. I love my reading chair downstairs, but sometimes I need a change in scenery.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Thanks for this.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Do you take care of the flowers and stuff?”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “No, the previous owner hired a company to handle it, and I saw no reason to change it. I don’t have a green thumb.”

  “Me neither. Riley can make anything grow beautifully, and Mia has an amazing herb garden, but I am hopeless at gardening.”

  “That’s okay. You don’t have to tend the garden, just enjoy it.”

  I sigh in happiness and lean against him for a long minute, then remember the sad look in his eyes this afternoon and glance up at him.

  “Are you willing to tell me what had you upset this afternoon?”

  He frowns and seems to struggle with himself for a minute. “Well, I told you that I don’t get along well with my parents.”

  “Yes.”

  “But I heard from my mom this afternoon. She wanted money. She always wants money.”

  “Are your parents still married?” I ask, and turn so I can see him better, holding his hand in mine.

  “Yes. Dad used to be a successful Realtor, but his business went to shit about ten years ago, when the market fell.”

  I nod, encouraging him to keep talking.

  “He started gambling.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “He blows through any money they get. And Mom is the one that suffers because of it, having to worry about how they’ll pay bills and buy necessities.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair,” I say softly.

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “What do you do when she asks for money?”

  “Chase and I used to just give her the money, but he’d get his hands on that too and blow it. Sometimes he comes out ahead, but more often than not, he loses. So Chase and I decided a few years ago that we wouldn’t give her cash, and instead we’d pay the bills she needs help with, or take her to the grocery store.”

  “That’s smart.”

  “It still pisses me off.”

  “Of course it does.”

  “You’re the therapist. Why do I feel so fucking guilty?”

  I sit up and squarely face him now, still holding his hand. “Do you want me to turn the therapist on? Because I’m happy to do that, but I’m also happy to just listen and let you talk.”

  “No, I’d really like to hear someone else’s opinion on this.”

  I nod, gathering my thoughts.

  “Well, I think it’s good that you set some boundaries on how you’re willing to help her. That’s important.”

  “I want her to leave him. But she won’t.”

  “That’s not your call to make,” I reply. “And that’s hard for you because you’re used to calling shots, knowing what’s best, and you love her.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “You and Chase have to be consistent in your boundaries. That’s hard, because she’s your mom, but it will help. There are also places your dad can go for help.”

  “He won’t.” He shakes his head in frustration. “We’ve tried. Mom’s pretty docile, and she loves him, so she doesn’t want to rock the boat too much.”

  “Well, then I’d say you’re doing pretty much everything you can. You’re helping her, and you’ve offered to help him.”

  “It all just pisses me off,” he grumbles, then takes a deep breath. “But thanks for listening.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Would you like to read for a bit?”

  I grin and pass him my Kindle. “I’ll never turn you reading to me down. I love your voice.”

  He opens the e-reader and begins to read, soothing both of us until I can hardly keep my eyes open. The next thing I know, I’m wrapped in his arms and we’re falling asleep, right here under a skyful of stars.

  Chapter Ten

  ~Mac~

  “I think we should start three more tours,” Chase says two weeks later. We’re sitting in my office, going over numbers and business plans for the rest of the year. “Ours are full and booked out three months in advance.”

  “I’m good with that. Let’s start looking for employees this week.”

&n
bsp; Chase nods, writing notes furiously on his legal pad. I’m a tech geek. All of my notes, my calendar, are all on my phone. Chase likes to keep track of things the old-fashioned way.

  We’ve owned this particular business for a little over a year. Before that, we co-owned a chain of bars here in Portland and Seattle, and sold them at the height of the market, making enough money for both of us to retire. But we both love to work, and build businesses, so we decided to dive headfirst into an area that we both enjoy.

  Wine.

  Wine is popular right now, and it hasn’t disappointed us in the least business-wise. This year has been incredibly profitable for our company, Sips, and we’re only getting busier.

  “What next?” Chase asks just as his phone rings. He scowls. “It’s Mom.”

  Money.

  It’s always about money.

  I shake my head in disgust, but Chase answers. I’d do the same. She’s our mother.

  “Hi, Mom.” He listens for a moment, then rubs the back of his hand over his mouth. That’s his “I’m gonna punch somebody I’m so frustrated” move.

  “I’ll have to think about it. Because that’s a lot of money, Mom. It doesn’t matter that I can afford it, it’s a lot of money.”

  “What the fuck?”

  Chase shakes his head and holds up his hand. “I’ll get back to you later today. Love you too. Bye.”

  He clicks off and pushes out of his chair to pace the room.

  “I just paid all of their rent and utilities two weeks ago,” I say, my voice hard. “What the fuck does she want now?”

  “Five grand,” he replies, and props his hands on his hips, staring out the window. “If their bills are paid, why do they need that much?”

  “He’s in the hole. Again.” I scratch my scalp in agitation and stand to pace myself. “Let’s go over there.”

  “Why?”

  “To talk to her in person. I want her to get out of there.”

  “She won’t leave him,” Chase says. “But we can go talk to her. She doesn’t sound good.”

  I stand and grab my keys, Chase on my heels as we jog down to my car and drive to our mother’s house out in Beaverton. It’s only a short drive from downtown and traffic is light this time of day.

 

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