“God, I’m a girl,” I mutter.
“Yep.” Riley grins. “You have the wine tour coming in a few minutes.”
“I remember.”
“The owner’s name is Ryan. He’ll have six customers with him. He’d like to taste three to five wines, and Mia has cooked up some small plates to feed them with the wines. We are their last stop, so some of them might already be plowed.”
“Fun.” I smile widely.
“Should I go?” Owen asks.
“You don’t have to,” I reply just as a group of people make their way into my bar. I don’t look up quite yet as I pour Owen one more drink, then place the four bottles of wine I’ll be sampling on the bar, within reach from the table I have set up for them.
“Ryan, this is Kat,” Riley says as I turn around and come face-to-face with him.
“Call me Mac.”
“Mac,” he and I say at the same time. The cold sweat I broke out into on the plane is nothing at all compared to this one. He grins, his eyes eagerly looking me up and down, and I finally find my voice.
“Hello.” I nod once, school my face, and get to work. I turn to the group members, who have found their seats and are chatting among themselves. “Who do we have here?”
“Hi, I’m Marcy,” a cute, young woman says, and points to the man next to her. “This is my husband, Len.” She giggles and looks up at Len adoringly.
“Let me guess. Newlyweds?”
They nod happily and the others roll their eyes.
“I’m Lucy,” another woman says. She’s a bit older, probably more my age. “This is Robert.” The man next to her nods. They’re not touching, and don’t look each other in the eye.
“I got it,” I say, snapping my fingers. “First date?”
They nod and smile.
“I’m good,” I say with a wink, and turn to the final two. They’re both women, in their early forties, laughing and showing things on their phones to each other. “And you two are best friends and you’re celebrating.”
“Guilty,” the blonde says with a nod. “And we’re toasted, so I apologize in advance for our shenanigans.”
“I have a master’s degree in shenanigans,” I reply with a wink, and try to ignore Mac’s smirk. “You’re a fun group. I’m happy to have you. Welcome to Seduction.”
The married woman, Marcy, giggles again.
“Why did you name it that?” Lucy asks.
“Because it’s sexy,” I reply honestly. “We serve aphrodisiacs, which our chef has researched and perfected. Our ambience is sexy, from the lighting and fabrics to the music. Not to mention, wine might be the most sensual thing there is, in my opinion.”
“So a guy should bring a girl here if he wants to get laid,” Len says with a smirk.
“Or, he should bring a girl here to enhance his own seduction of her,” I reply with a smile. “Women aren’t stupid, Len. It takes more than some asparagus and a glass of Chardonnay to turn a girl on. But that’s a lesson for another day.”
The table laughs, including Len, and Mac rubs his fingers over his mouth, smiling at me.
Mia herself comes out of the kitchen with a tray full of the first course of small bites for the group. She talks with them, explaining what they’re about to eat, as I pour their glasses. I glance back at Owen, who is typing furiously on his phone, then return my attention to the others when I fill Mac’s glass.
“You look fantastic,” he murmurs.
I smile widely, curbing the urge to tell him to shove his compliments up his ass.
“Thanks.”
He nods, smiles, and I walk on. I spend the next hour flirting, joking, and entertaining the fun group of people, filling them full of information about the wines that they’ll never remember. But they will remember this experience, and hopefully return again and again with their friends.
“This is the best way to celebrate,” Sandy, the blonde of the friend duo, says.
“What are you celebrating anyway?” I ask.
“My divorce is final,” her friend, Louise, says.
“Then yes, this is an excellent way to celebrate,” I reply with a nod. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
Just then, Marcy and Len kiss, then kiss again, making everyone else roll their eyes.
I laugh and turn toward the bar to pick up the last bottle of wine and notice that Owen’s wife, Jen, is now sitting next to him, watching the show. They’re both grinning.
“You filled her in?” I ask in a low voice.
“Of course.”
I smile and shake my head, returning to my audience. Mia just delivered the last course, dessert.
“This is one of our most popular desserts. It’s a chocolate lava cake with vanilla-bean ice cream. I just made that ice cream this morning.”
“Holy sweet Jesus,” Louise says with a smile. “I think we’ve found our new location for girls’ night out.”
“Absolutely,” Sandy says, holding her glass up to her friend in cheers.
“I love the sound of that,” I reply, and then describe the ice wine I’m serving with their cake. “This is a late-harvest ice wine, perfect for dessert. Now, a wine this sweet is best to sip. You really shouldn’t chug any wine, but I especially recommend sipping this one as you eat. The chocolate and the wine complement each other like Sandy and Louise.”
The pair preens as they eat and sip. Mac has laughed, smiled, and been captivated by me all evening.
And I haven’t discouraged him, because to do so would include a scene, and I want these six people to have the time of their lives while they’re here.
“Thanks again for coming by, everyone,” I say as they finish their dessert and gather their things to go. “I hope you enjoyed yourselves.”
“We had a great time,” Lucy says. She and Robert are now holding hands. They loosened up quite a bit while they were here.
“I’m glad.”
“Okay, everyone,” Mac says, rubbing his hands together. “That concludes our tour. You’re welcome to walk back to my office with me, or catch your own transportation home here.”
“I’m glad you told us not to drive,” Len says. “I definitely shouldn’t be driving.”
“Exactly,” Mac replies. “There are plenty of cabs here in this part of downtown, and the Max train is only two blocks over.”
“We’re good,” Louise says. “I’ll call my son to come get us.”
The others filter out as well, discussing how they’ll get home. Mac hangs back, and when they’re all out of earshot, approaches me.
“You’re amazing.”
“I’m good at my job,” I reply, my smile gone now.
“I’d like to see you this weekend.”
I still, fully aware that Owen, Jen, and Mia are watching with avid curiosity, and turn to Mac. I set my rag on the table and square my shoulders.
“I’m only going to say this one time, Ryan. I don’t like to associate with liars.”
But rather than try to explain, he just smirks and slides his business card across the table to me, then turns and walks out of my bar, as if he has no cares in the world.
Damn him.
When he’s gone, I walk behind the bar and slam my rag into the sink.
“So that was him,” Owen says, and clears his throat.
“Yep.”
“He’s pretty hot,” Mia says, and I pin her in a glare. “What? He is. You totally scored in the sexcation department.”
“He’s also clearly a liar.” I can put up with a lot of things, but lies aren’t one of them.
“Well, not really,” Jen says as she looks at his card, then shows it to me. “It says Ryan ‘Mac’ MacKenzie on his card. So, he didn’t lie about his name.”
“But, he also didn’t try to explain that,” Owen says with a shrug. “He kind of had an arrogant chip on his shoulder the way he shoved the card at you and stalked off without a word.”
“Yeah, I don’t know if I like that,” Jen says with a nod. “I mean
, he could have said, ‘No, Kat, it’s a misunderstanding. Look at my card.’”
“Exactly. He’s arrogant,” I reply, feeding off of their energy.
“I wonder if he came in here with his group already knowing that you’d be here so he could ask you out,” Mia says thoughtfully.
“Why do that?” I ask, twisting the rag in my hands now.
I wish it were Mac’s neck.
“I mean, he knows I’m here, all he had to do was call. He didn’t have to come up with some elaborate scheme by bringing his clients in here.”
“Well, it’s certainly more dramatic this way,” Jen says sensibly. “He brings a group in, and sweeps you off your feet because you’re so excited to see him you can hardly contain yourself. Then he whisks you away for some hot sex.”
He really is very good at whisking.
But I shake my head and keep my irritation pulled around me like a shield. I yank the towel out of the sink so I can keep twisting it. Like Mac’s neck.
“If he thought he was being romantic, he has another thing coming.”
“Also,” Owen adds, “I’m still stuck on the no-words thing. He can’t speak to you? That’s some pretty shitty communication right there.”
“I did so well with you,” I reply, wiping an imaginary tear from my eye.
“You really did,” Jen says. “He’s all about communication.”
“Well, that was a douche move,” Owen insists. “You deserve words, not just a business card shoved in your face.”
“You’re right.” I nod, getting pissed all over again.
“So go get your words,” Mia says. “His office address is on that card.”
“I will.” I snatch the card off the bar and throw the abused towel back into the sink. “Grace will be here in ten minutes. Cover for me in the meantime.”
And with that, I grab my purse and keys and march out to my car, zooming the short mile to Mac’s office.
He’s in the heart of downtown Portland, above a yoga studio.
I could use some yoga right about now.
I stomp up the stairs and open the door, expecting to see a receptionist, but instead, there’s Mac, standing at the window, his hands shoved in his pockets, watching the city below.
“What a lovely surprise,” he murmurs, and turns to face me. He’s no longer smiling, but he’s perfectly calm.
“Where’s your receptionist?” I ask inanely.
“Gone for the day.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “You can yell at me in peace.”
“Look,” I begin, and toss my bag in a chair. I pace the small room. “You can’t just march into my bar with a smile, humiliating me, and then say you want to see me. I’m not a call girl.”
“Be careful,” he warns. His voice is still calm, but his green eyes have gone bright, with lust or irritation I’m not sure.
“What did you think I would do?” I demand, and turn to face him squarely. “Did you think I’d throw myself in your arms in relief and beg you to carry me off to bed?”
“No, I expected you to do your job, which you did,” he says. “I was hoping, after you’d finished your job, that you’d give me some of your time.”
“After I find out that Mac isn’t even your name?”
“I’ve gone by Mac since high school,” he replies. “It is my name.”
“Right.” I roll my eyes and turn away, and then turn back to him, pissed off all over again. “Also, you told me that you don’t even live in Portland.”
“No, you assumed that.”
“Well, you didn’t do anything to make me think anything different.” I stomp away, but suddenly I’m spun around and held against Mac’s very hard chest.
“Listen to me,” he says, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “I didn’t lie to you, Katrina. You didn’t ask me my full name. You didn’t ask me jackshit during the whole week we were together.”
“Because it wasn’t serious,” I insist, and hate myself a little when I realize he’s right. I didn’t ask him anything. If I had, I might have had an inkling when Riley told me a group was coming in today.
“I asked you questions,” he replies, and drags his knuckle down my cheek. “Even if we weren’t going to see each other again, I wanted to know about you, Kat. And you told me. If you’d just asked me a few of the most basic questions, I would have told you, and we could have avoided this.”
“You sought me out on purpose,” I reply without acknowledging what he said about me asking him questions.
“Fuck yes, I did,” he replies, his grip on me tightening. “And I’d do it again.”
“You could have just called.”
“You wouldn’t have taken the call,” he guesses correctly.
“I don’t know why you did this,” I whisper, and pull out of his grasp. “We’re strangers.”
His green eyes darken with hurt, making my own heart ache. Why am I doing this? Wasn’t I just complaining to Owen that he hadn’t called? I’m just being a brat, and that’s not me.
But I felt embarrassed when he showed up at the bar. I didn’t enjoy it.
“Okay, we’re not strangers,” I murmur, and turn away, walking to the window he was at when I walked in. He has a great view of the river. “I was embarrassed.”
“I’m sorry for that,” he says, not walking to me. He’s giving me room, and that’s exactly what I need.
How does he know what I need?
“Have you thought of me at all?” he asks.
“Yes,” I reply truthfully. “I’ve thought of you. I won’t lie about that.” I turn back to him. His hands are in his pockets again.
“You’re all I’ve thought about, Kat,” he replies. “So I’m going to tell you what I told you at the bar. I want to see you.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Do you always get what you want?”
“Usually.”
I sigh and shake my head. “I have to get back to work.”
I don’t know what I want right now. I do want him, but a part of me is still irritated with him too. And I do have to get back to work.
He catches my elbow as I walk past him and stops me. “I won’t stop asking.”
“You didn’t ask,” I reply, and cock one eyebrow, looking him in the eye. “You told. And that may work in the bedroom, but it doesn’t work in real life with me, Mac.”
I pull my arm out of his grasp and walk away. As I get to the door, he says, “I’ll remember.”
I glance over my shoulder. “Do that.”
Chapter Six
~Mac~
She walks out the door, shutting it firmly but not slamming it, behind her. I drag my hands over my face and cringe when I hear my younger brother walk into the room from his office.
“So that’s her?”
“That’s her.” I turn to him, and despite his being two years younger, it’s like looking in a mirror.
“She’s pretty badass,” he says with a nod. “And it sounds like you finally met someone who won’t take your shit.”
“I don’t fling shit,” I reply with a scowl. “I don’t lie to anyone.”
“Nope, you’ve never been a liar,” Chase agrees. “But you’re used to doing things your way, and it sounds like she’s not going to bat her eyelashes and let you run the show.”
“You’re exaggerating.” I shake my head and walk into my own office. My brother and I started this business together a year ago, and it was the best decision we’ve made. Business is booming. “But you’re right. She’s not a passive woman.”
“Good. You’ve been fucking around with too many passive women,” he says with a smirk, and leans his shoulder on my doorframe.
“You fuck around with passive women,” I remind him. “Like Mom says, we’re two peas in a pod.”
“The passive women work for me for now. I don’t think it’s working for you anymore if Kat can basically tell you that you’re an ass and you still have that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“The I want to fuck her seven ways to Sunday look.”
“It’s not just that.” Frustration hangs heavily in my voice as I lean back in my chair. “The sex is fucking amazing. I won’t deny the chemistry. But there’s more there than a romp in bed.”
“A relationship?”
My gaze flies to his and I stop cold. “I don’t do relationships, Chase.” And it’s not because of any deep-seated mommy issues, or past hurts. I’ve just always focused on work, on building something strong with my businesses, and a serious relationship, leading to a wife and kids, has never been a part of those plans.
“Okay, friends with benefits?”
“I just like her.” I rub my hand over my lips, and for reasons I can’t describe, want to punch my brother squarely on the chin.
“You don’t have to put a label on it,” he says reasonably. “Just date her and see what happens.”
“Date her?”
“Yes, it’s a new invention where two people hang out together when they want to get to know each other better.” He rolls his eyes.
“I don’t have time to date.”
“You’re fucked up,” Chase says, shaking his head.
What else is new?
“I wasn’t going to do any of this,” I say, and stand to pace the room.
“Yes, you were, but now that you’ve done it, you don’t know what to do next. Women aren’t usually difficult for you, brother. You charm them, you fuck them, sometimes for a few months, then you move on. You don’t give them much thought after the fact. But this one is different.”
“She’s different,” I agree.
“Okay, so go buy her some fucking posies and romance her a bit. You can’t order her around and expect her to fall in line the way you do with everything else.”
She falls in line perfectly in the bedroom. I smirk. Maybe that’s what’s so damn alluring about Kat. I can dominate the hell out of her during sex, but outside of the bedroom she’s strong and opinionated and doesn’t need to be told what to do in the least. She’s unexpected and different.
“You’re right,” I reply. “And romance isn’t usually my strong suit.”
“I’ll help,” he says with a bright smile.
“Romance is your strong suit?” I ask with a laugh. “You’re worse at it than me.”