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The product was so cold, it made him flinch as she dabbed more beneath his ear. Although his hands were drumming his knees, and his shoes were tapping on the hardwood floors, he kept his head very still when he spoke, murmuring through a half-open mouth. “How long is this going to take?”
It was Sunday, and the sun was already setting, deep orange rays streaming through the gray curtains. Time had escaped them in their hurry to get ready for the event.
“As long as I need to cover your look-at-me-the-wrong-way-and-I’ll-kill-you tattoo.” At least she didn’t need to cover up the many other tattoos on his neck, or they’d be here all night.
“Can’t you use a glamour?”
Dallas snorted. “You flatter me that you actually think my glamours can last that long.”
Max studied her flawless makeup—the ruby shade of her lips, the coral powder swept across her sharp cheekbones, the dark tangle of her lashes that made her green eyes pop. “You glamour yourself all the time.”
“Yeah, and I’m going to need every bit of my magic to stop my face from becoming ugly halfway through dinner.”
Max frowned up at her. “You’re never ugly, Dallas.”
“Says the guy who’s never seen the troll without makeup or a glamour.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.” It was true. The way she looked tonight…she would be the hottest woman at the Fleet event, that was for certain. Even without the glamour.
“Would you quit mumbling?” Fisting his hair again, she wrenched his head back, making him grind his teeth. “And for the last bloody time, hold still.”
“I thought I was the one who did the hair-pulling in this relationship.”
“You also thought you were the one who was going to wear the pants in this relationship, and look at us now.”
He did his best to hold still, staring up at Dallas as his eyes continued to water, her fist holding his hair in a death-grip.
She growled in frustration and threw her hands in the air, releasing him for one glorious moment. “I keep messing it up!”
“It’s because your hands are too sweaty,” he accused, fixing his white button-up shirt. It kept getting ruffled from all her fussing. If she didn’t watch it, it would soon be covered in makeup, and he would have to change. Which would suck because he didn’t have a large selection of clothes that could be deemed appropriate for a Fleet event. “What are you so nervous about? Everything’s going to be fine.”
“You clearly have not met my dad.” Turning on a spiked heel, she rifled through her makeup bag on the nightstand until she found a small black compact. Popping the lid open, she strutted back over to him and used a puffy white thing to dab some powder overtop of the liquid foundation, or whatever the shit that stuff was.
“I’m going to sneeze,” he warned, nose itching. Fine, dry particles floated through the air.
“Don’t, or I’ll break up with you.”
A laugh rumbled up his throat, but he managed to swallow it and the sneeze before Dallas could make good on her threat.
Finally, she stepped back to assess her work.
“Well?” Max prompted, blinking his burning eyes. Some of that powdery stuff felt like it was trapped under his eyelids.
A heavy sigh made her shoulders slump. “Good enough.”
With a sigh of his own that was more like a frustrated growl, Max heaved himself to his feet, bed creaking in relief. “Finally.”
He adjusted his belt buckle and tucked the loose folds of his shirt into his waistband as Dallas threw the makeup and brushes into her bag. She was wearing a short emerald-green dress that looked stunning against her copper hair. The long strands were curled softly, resting just shy of the small of her back, the area he liked to push on when he was slamming into her from behind.
Max shook the thought into the wind. “Dallas?” he called.
Flicking her hair over a freckled shoulder, she straightened, clutching a small purse in a tight grip. Nervous already, and the night had barely begun. “What?”
“You look beautiful.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re just saying that so I don’t subject you to being a mannequin again.”
He grabbed his keys and wallet off the nightstand. “You’re right. I don’t hold still, everything is not going to be fine tonight, and I called you beautiful so you won’t subject me to being a mannequin again. Right, right, right.”
