“Babe, you were. I took the ice out of your hand and you didn’t even flinch.”
I’d wondered where that ice had gone.
I decided my best course of action was to stop talking about this as it appeared my arguments weren’t holding much weight.
I pulled my arms from his waist, put my hands on his chest and gave a shove, saying, “I need to go get ready.”
His head tilted back to look at the clock then his arms got tighter, locking mine between our bodies, rendering them useless.
“We got another twenty minutes,” he muttered then he lifted his head and his face disappeared in my neck again as his hand slid over my behind and pulled my h*ps into his.
My fingers curled into his shirt as I steeled myself against a reaction and I tipped my head back and looked at the clock.
Then my hands flattened on his chest and I cried, “We don’t have twenty minutes! I need to start getting ready now.”
His tongue slid up my neck to my jaw and then along it before he responded, “You can hurry.”
“Max! ‘Makeup’ and ‘hurry’ are two concepts that do not mix well together.”
His head came up and he looked at me. “Then wash it all off. You look just as pretty in the morning as you do right now.”
I felt my eyes grow wide in horror at the very thought and declared, “I am nowhere near ready to go Colorado mountain fresh makeup free like all the natural beauties that seem to populate Gnaw Bone.”
He grinned and repeated on a tease, “Colorado mountain fresh makeup free?”
I decided not to rise to the bait and snapped, “Max, let me go.”
I was pretty certain he was still teasing when he asked, “You sure you don’t want to hang out in bed for awhile and feel each other up?” However, even so, I paused to consider this idea as it seemed interesting and more than a little appealing.
This was a mistake and I knew it when Max burst out laughing and kissed me quickly before knifing out of bed, taking me with him when he did.
He set me on my feet and I concentrated on mentally solidifying my jellied legs as Max did up my jeans with swift, practiced hands then curled his fingers around the back of my head, pulling me to him and he kissed my forehead.
Then he turned and walked to the stairs, calling, “Want me to bring you a glass of wine?”
It was so very annoying when he was thoughtful.
“Yes,” I called back.
“Duchess,” he called again when I eventually turned to the bathroom. I stopped and looked to the stairs to see only his torso and head through the railings. “It might be fancy for Colorado but still, wear jeans.”
Then he kept winding down the stairs and I was thankful that he told me. I’d hate to be too dressed up, that would be awful.
Still, it was also thoughtful, which again was annoying.
* * * * *
I looked at myself in Max’s bathroom mirror, took in all that was me and whispered, “What on earth are you doing, Nina Sheridan?”
My reflection did not reply which was a bit frustrating since Charlie had also disappeared and I needed guidance.
I grabbed my empty wineglass from the tiled counter and walked into the bedroom. My eyes went to the clock and saw we were closing in on launch time so I hurried to my luggage, set the glass on the nightstand and dug through it to find my going out clutch.
I’d functioned on autopilot getting ready mainly because if I allowed my mind to wander to what happened on the bed, I didn’t know what I’d do. My options were to beg Max to call Brody and Mindy and tell them we’d go to The Rooster another night; find Max and tell him he was good with his hands, his mouth and other things as well and I was never leaving his house until the day I died; or put my arms around him and my lips to his ear and admit I was falling in love with him.
As none of those were healthy ways forward, autopilot it was.
However autopilot took me straight into a new debacle. For I’d washed my face and then applied Nina Going Out makeup which was heavier, smoky and likely seriously overdone for the Colorado Mountains. I’d also curled my hair, not in curls, but to give it more waves and body. Then I’d slid in a headband made of three, thin gold leather braids that I’d used to pull back my hair softly from my face and I’d separated the braids along my crown to affect a kind of Grecian Goddess look. I’d slipped on my white mesh camisole which was long, hugged my jeans at the h*ps (in fact, it hugged me everywhere) and had a low dip in the back. Under, it had a thin, stretchy, white camisole stitched in and on the outside it was covered entirely by little, gold sequins. Again likely overkill for the Colorado Mountains but I didn’t have anything that was fancy but not that fancy. Since I’d brought my strappy, stiletto-heeled, gold sandals to go with the top on the off chance I needed something dressy, the only thing I could do to tone down this ensemble was buck the gold in my hair, on my body and on my feet and I accessorized with nothing but my new silver earrings and Max’s ring.