Ten minutes with his face under her deft fingertips and feather-soft brushes. It was worth it just for that, even before she held up a mirror to prove the bruises were concealed. He had been skeptical, but she was right: nobody would even know he’d been hit.
“Thought I blew it,” he admitted.
“Yeah, well, you nearly did,” Karen replied, snapping her makeup case shut. “Leave it to Frank Castle to ruin a good look with a purple eye.”
“You think this is a good look?” She had talked him into a suit for the New Year’s party.
sleepy