CHAPTER 14
Summer
“These are my boobs. I have two of them…”
Did I really say that to Declan? I’m so far out of my comfort zone it isn’t funny. This is way worse than the queasiness of jet travel. Way past my baseline dislike of Las Vegas.
I just stuck out my chest and drew attention to my boobs.
I so want to back out. I so want to hitch a ride home to Yosemite Ranch. Evander and Phoebe have probably already tied the knot, anyway. Sure, I’ll return as a failure, but at least my boobs will no longer be out on display for Declan to criticize.
“Aren’t you cold?”
That’s what he asked. And the answer is an enthusiastic yes.
Yes, I’m cold. Because the waxer woman didn’t leave a single strand of hair anywhere on my body except for my eyelashes and what grows from the top of my head.
The only reason I still have most of my eyebrows is because I fought to save them.
The rest of me is as slick as a dolphin.
Dammit it, I blew it. Instead of standing there in front of Declan all nervous and uncomfortable because of the way he was looking at me, I should have told him about how I’ve been waxed to within an inch of my life, smooth as a newborn piglet.
Then I could’ve watched him squirm. That would have been way better than how I fidgeted like a pathetic, shy little girl who’s afraid of her own shadow.
Next time I get a chance, I’m definitely going to use the piglet line on him.
We step out of the elevator on the top floor and make our way toward the restaurant.
I have to hand it to Bryttni. The dress and shoes she picked out for me are as comfortable as they are pretty.
The dress is silk, and it feels great on my newly bald skin.
The strappy heels feel lovely on my callus-free heels.
They may not look it, but they provide excellent arch support.
Dancing is definitely in the cards for me tonight.
My only clothing complaint has to do with slingshot underwear riding up my crack. I think I’m going to have to ditch them and go commando.
I look down and admire my pink toenails. I’ve never been a girly girl, but I have to say that my first makeover turned out well. I like how I look, which is a surprise. I thought I’d hate all this. I’m enjoying it. But I’m damn glad none of the guys at the ranch can see me.
Well, except for Declan.
“Day-uuum!” Kirk strides our way. His eyes are huge, and his smile is wide as he takes me in. “Holy wow, Summer! I’m speechless!”
“Promise?” Declan mumbles under his breath.
Kirk is quite handsome in his snug, charcoal-gray suit with no tie. I much prefer the classic cut and the dark blue of Declan’s suit, though. Not that it’s a competition or anything. Because it’s not.
Kirk kisses my cheek and takes my hand.
Declan groans in misery. We all stare at him. “Onion rings,” he says.
Only then do I realize that Kirk hasn’t taken his eyes off me. He doesn’t even notice Bryttni until she marches right up to him and gets in his face.
“I’m Bryttni,” she says.
Hold up. Her voice has somehow morphed from cat in heat to purring kitten.
“You must be a model,” she continues, fingering Kirk’s suit cuff. “I thought Summer was exaggerating but you really are as hot as a volcano.”
Kirk seems delighted. Declan’s neck is getting splotchy.
“Let’s roll out before they give away our table,” Declan mutters. He shoots me a glare that says this-is-your-fault before he rests a hand on Bryttni’s ass and shoos her into the restaurant.
Really? You’re groping her ass?
I’m on the verge of releasing a long stream of curse words when I feel Kirk’s hand squeeze mine. He makes small talk until we’re escorted to our table.
This place is a little overwhelming. More ornate than any restaurant I’ve ever set foot in. I hear live piano music tinkling in the background. Fresh flowers are everywhere. The lighting is romantic. The whole place glitters.
We’re directed past a heavy velvet curtain and into a private VIP room.
An overstuffed, semicircular booth is positioned at an angle near a huge window, providing an eagle’s view of the shimmering fountains, the sparkling city, and the dark mountains beyond. The tabletop is covered in white linen, crystal, and china.
“This is all for us?” Bryttni squeals.
“All for you,” Declan says, giving her left butt cheek a friendly pat.
Groping and patting before we’re even seated? This is going to be an evening for the record books.
Bryttni slides in first from the left side and Kirk slides in from the right. He pats the leather for me, as if there’s anywhere else for me to sit.
Declan collapses directly across from me. Great. Not only do I have a perfect view of the city and desert, but I also have a perfect view of the way Declan’s pulled his lips into a grouchy sneer.
“I hear they serve amazing oysters on the half shell,” Kirk says, bringing my fingers to his mouth. He stares at me suggestively and turns my hand to kiss the inside of my wrist. It feels weird.
Declan smacks his palm on the table. The glasses and silverware clang. “No oysters tonight,” he says to no one in particular. “Summer can’t have oysters.”
“Huh?” I stare at the man, sure he’s lost his chicken-fried mind. “Why not?”
“Allergic.”
“I am not.”
“How would you even know, Summer? The only oysters you’ve enjoyed are of the Rocky Mountain variety.”
“And? Real oysters look like snot balls. There’s not enough hot sauce in the world for me to want to glurp down an oyster snot ball.”
“Glurp isn’t a word.”
“It is now.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘slurp.’”
“No, actually. The word that applies to this moment is ‘assclown.’ Because that’s what you’re acting like right now. A total glurping assclown.”
Only then do I realize that Bryttni and Kirk are silent. I dare take a peek at my date. He looks like he’d rather be under the wheels of a city bus than here.
Bryttni scowls at Declan, then me, like she’s trying to figure out what our deal is. Good luck with that.
“I hear they have fabulous venison, too,” Kirk says in a gallant attempt to change the subject.
“Summer bagged two bucks last season,” Declan announces with pride. “I enjoyed venison steak every night for two weeks. Tell everyone how you butchered those stags, Summer.”
“What do you mean how? The normal way. Hang ’em upside down and let the blood drain out of their necks before I skin ’em.”
Kirk looks pale. Bryttni makes an upchuck sound in the back of her throat.
“Help me powder my nose, Declan.” I throw my napkin on the table.
“Why the fuck would I want to do that?”
I stand and grab his suit jacket, tugging him to his feet. Then I pinch his upper arm. “Hurry up.”
He follows me to the alcove near the bathrooms. We round the corner to escape the prying eyes of the other diners. Every one of them, including the toddler in the corner screaming and throwing mashed potatoes, looks like they’re having a better time than I am.
Declan turns to face me, and I shove my hand against his chest, pushing his back to the wall. “Stop making me out like I’m some sort of ignorant country hick.”
“You’re doing a bang-up job of that all on your own.”
I grind the sole of my fancy shoe onto his instep. He starts to howl in pain, but I clamp my hand over his mouth. “You know damned well that you’re trying to make me look stupid in front of Kirk. He’s an asset manager. He has no interest in skinning deer.”
“Mmm! Mmm-mmm!”
I drop my hand so he can speak.
“You have no clue what the man’s interested in, Summer, because you don’t know the first thing about him.”
“Don’t you dare screw this up for me. Remember, I know where you live, and I own three castration knives.”
He nods. “Yeah. I know. All three were gifts from me, remember? Two for Christmas last year. One for your birthday this year.”
“What man decides to give a woman castration knives as gifts?” My voice has increased in volume.
“This man!” Declan’s voice is even louder than mine. “Because I asked you what you wanted and your answer was, and I quote, ‘I want castration knives’!”
An elderly gentleman chooses that moment to head to the men’s room. He scurries past us like we’re nutters.
I guess we are.
I remove my shoe from Declan’s foot and take a step back from him.
“What was I supposed to ask for? I work for your family. That’s why I suggested something work-related, which is absolutely appropriate. Was I supposed to ask you for a trip to Maui? A VIP dinner and hotel suite? Unlimited use of your American Express card?”
His eyes flash. He swallows hard. It takes him a moment to regain his focus.
“Let’s call a truce,” he says.
“Maybe.”
“I’ll talk with Kirk about wine and cars, since he seems like the kind of guy who can’t shut up about wine and cars. And I’ll fondle Bryttni under the table, so I’m not bored. Does that work for you?”
No, it doesn’t. Not at all.
I drop my gaze to the parquet floor. I feel my shoulders sag. “You make me so mad, Declan,” I whisper.
He puts his finger under my chin and lifts my face. Declan studies me. His dark blue eyes are intense and focused. I blink in response.
“You make me mad, too,” he says. “So how about you never again stow away on my jet while I’m on a date?”
“Fine. I think once was enough for everyone involved.”
“You know, you could be home right now, making s’mores with Jasmine.”
His finger remains under my chin. I grab his wrist and yank it away. “Making s’mores with your niece sounds a lot better than going to this stupid, fancy dinner in this stupid, fancy dress.”
“You’re a smoke show in that dress, Summer.”
His comment drops like a lead weight between us. But apparently, he wants to make the situation even more unbearable for me.
“You’re a maneater in that thing. The combination of you and that dress should be against the fucking law.”
I try to steady my breath. “I thought for sure you’d laugh at me.”
I see the strangest expression slip across his face. Almost as if he’s in pain. “Do I look like I’m laughing?”