“Pretty much all the time these days. She’s a demanding little thing.”
I open my mouth to make a snarky comment but Kat holds up her hand.
“Don’t say it,” she says, mock-glaring at me.
I smash my lips together and we both laugh.
“You know, the two of us are really not behaving in a way becoming of people dressed in formalwear,” Kat says, chomping on a piece of cheese.
“Thank God,” I say.
“Yeah, sure, it’s all fun and games forus, but definitely not for the flight attendant,” Kat says. “It really wasn’tthatbig a plane, poor thing.”
“Oh, she’ll survive. We can’t possibly be the first people to fuck like rabbits on a private plane.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Kat says. She giggles. “Surely other people fuck, but not likethat—that was prettyenthusiastic, even for us, Josh. Dressed in a gown like this, I really should have acted much more like a proper young lady on that plane. Tsk, tsk.”
I lean forward and touch Kat’s chin. “Promise me something, babe,” I say.
“Anything, my love.”
“Promise me, no matter what, you’ll never, ever act like a proper young lady as long as we both shall live.”
A lovely smile spreads across Kat’s face. “I promise.”
“Thank you.”
A few minutes later, after Kat’s finished eating like a truck driver suffering from mad cow disease, she scoots closer to me on the car seat and rests her head on my shoulder. “Thank you for this amazing day, Josh,” she says. “This is the best day of my life.” She clasps her fingers in mine.
“That’s sweet,” I say nonchalantly. “But your feelings are completely irrelevant, since today is for my benefit and not yours.”
Kat giggles. “You’re so full of shit.”
We silently watch the passing scenery through the car window for several minutes, the Southern California ocean glimmering in thelate-afternoon light. “I’ve never been to San Diego,” Kat says. “It’s beautiful here.”
“Yeah, I love it here,” I say. “I usually make it down here a couple times a year during racing season. I’ve got several good friends who own racehorses.”
“Of course, you do. I’m shocked you don’t own a couple yourself.”
“Meh. I did a few years ago. But it turns out racehorses are fucking money pits to own—a lot more fun when someone else is paying the bills.”
“God, ain’t that the truth,” Kat says, squeezing my hand. “It’s what Ialwayssay.”
We look out at the passing scenery again, our hands clasped comfortably.
“I love the ocean,” Kat says. “Especially at this time of day when the light is soft and golden.”
Just like your hair, I think, stroking the full length of her soft, golden mane—but, of course, I keep that thought to myself. There’s only so much poetic babbling a guy can do in one day and I’ve got to rest up for all the poetic babbling that lies ahead. I stare at the passing scenery for a long minute, stroking Kat’s glorious hair, breathing in the scent of her, thinking about what I’m gonna say to her when we reach our destination.
“Staring at the ocean always makes me feel small, but in a good way,” Kat says quietly, looking out the window.
“Me, too,” I say. “Like my problems don’t matter in the grand scheme of things.”
“You have problems?” she asks.
I kiss the top of her head. “Not anymore.”
Kat nuzzles into me. “I wish I had something amazing to give you—the male equivalent of a Carolina Herrera gown and diamonds, whatever that would be—so you could feel the way I do right now.”
