critical error. It’s pigmented as hell and smears well beyond her brows, first. Second, the color is wrong. A glance at the bottom of the tube tells me the shade is honey blonde.
And on Masey’s dark brows, it’s beyond awful. So I add it to the other eyebrow.
I need to be done with her makeup before she hates me.
“Wrapping up with another coat of mascara and some lipstick.” Which clashes terribly with everything on her face. “There. Let’s finalize with setting spray. I think that’s like hair spray for the face.” And when I spritz her skin, it smells like someone puked in shit. “That is horrible. What the fu—”
“It’s not one of my favorites.” Masey looks like she’s trying not to gag as she fans her face. I don’t know if that’s to dry the spray or dissipate the stench and I’m not asking. “Are you done?”
I study the damage to her look. I can honestly say I’ve seen intoxicated strippers who look classier than Masey right now. “Yes. And I will not quit my day job. Holy cow.”
“I’m almost afraid to look.”
“You should be.”
She grins as I hand the hand mirror to her. “Drumroll, please.”
Rhythmically, I tap my hands on the top of the desk, then point her way. “Time for the big reveal. And go!”
Masey raises her hand mirror to her face and gasps. She looks way beyond shocked. Dismayed might be a good description. Even disgusted.
“Ta da!” I beam. “Told you I could deliver an epic train wreck.”
“This is even above and beyond my wildest expectations.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I think as your penance—I mean reward—you should have to kiss me looking like this.”
I can close my eyes. “You’re on. Bring it over here, honey.”
When I grab her face, she lays a fat kiss on my lips, then explodes into a fit of giggles. “I seriously don’t think I’ve ever looked worse.” And she sounds happy about it. “Also…watermelon lipstick isn’t for you.”
She holds up the mirror and shows me my mouth smeared with the dark color. “I’ll remember that. You know, for the next time I’m tempted to wear it.”
Masey laughs harder. “Thanks for joining me for this belated Boyfriend-Does-My-Makeup Challenge. I hope you enjoyed it as much as Trace did and learned a lot about what not to do. Watch for my upload later this week about some hidden skin-care gems. I’ll get back to a normal release schedule after vacation, but until then, I’ll be enjoying Hawaii and my time with Trace. Hugs and lipstick! And…aloha.”
After she blows everyone a kiss, she turns off the camera, then faces me with a shake of her head. “That was perfect. I think I need to kiss you more.”
“Please do.”
Chapter Eleven
On Tuesday morning, Harlow and Noah volunteer to keep Ranger another day so Masey and I have more time together. Shortly after lunch, we drop off a few of my little man’s things at my brother’s place. Then Noah and I catch up in the kitchen, beer in hand, while the girls plant in a pair of chairs near the pool. Neither is smiling.
“That conversation looks deep,” I say with a frown and a bob of my head in their direction.
“Yeah.” Noah takes in the sight. “Harlow has been worried.”
“She shouldn’t be. I’m doing my damnedest to be good to Masey, make her laugh and—”
“Harlow isn’t as worried about her as she is about you, bro.”
I rear back. “Me?”
Noah scratches at his off-season scruff and grimaces. “We talked on Sunday night after you and I hung up. Harlow is surprised you’re so serious about Masey.”
“Not long ago, I would have said we just had good chemistry, but the last few days have been some of the happiest of my life. We’re not on the same page yet, but I’m hoping we’ll at least get to the same chapter soon.”
“My wife isn’t sure Masey is ready for anything lasting.”
“I’m in love with her.”
“Fuck. Have you told her?”
“Not in so many words. I’m looking for the right time, so I’m trying to get a better read on how she feels.”
Sometimes, I think she’s falling, too—hard and fast. Like Sunday night…
After we finished filming the makeup video, she scrubbed her face squeaky clean. Since I put on so many thick layers, it took a while. After that, she surprised me by initiating sex. We made love and laughed half the night. Everything felt perfect.
But other times, I swear she’s pulling away. On Monday morning, she seemed inexplicably reserved, almost aloof.
“Any ideas yet?”