Piper winced. I stepped closer, cupping her face with both hands. “I’d love to stay longer.”
“You don’t have to explain. You’re already late, so go, go, go.”
As we walked to the front door, I kept looking around. “You’re right. Your place is cozy.”
She had a mismatch of furniture that I’d never encountered: gray sofa, a metal couch table, and a fake chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Behind the couch was a wall encased by bookshelves. Right in the center of it were double French doors.
As I grabbed the doorknob, I looked at her intently.
“Are you okay? I’m sorry to rush out like this. I completely lost my head,” I admitted. “I forgot that I was on a schedule.”
She smiled slightly. “Well, that’s okay.” And then her smile fell as she pointed to a mess on the floor. “Oh no. My pralines!”
“What the hell? How did we do that?” The pralines had fallen out of the box and scattered, most of them smashed against the floor.
“I think we probably stepped on them.” She pouted. “I was looking forward to them.”
I moved closer to her, putting a finger on her lips. “I’ll have a new box for you tomorrow.”
She smiled against my finger, and I was in real danger of kissing her again. Who knew where that would take us, though. So instead of lingering, I opened the door and walked out.
“Take care, Piper.”
“You too.”
I sighed. I was nowhere near ready to say goodbye, but I needed to think of my little girl.
CHAPTER 16
BECKETT
The next morning,Charlotte slept in until seven o’clock. I almost couldn’t believe it.
My parents didn’t seem fazed at all when I arrived late last evening, though Mom gave me a few curious glances. Thankfully, she didn’t ask anything.
I couldn’t believe I’d lost track of time like that—and that I’d lost control of myself. But my desire for Piper had been too strong. I didn’t even have time to question myself.
Now, I was in a conundrum, but I wasn’t going to solve it before coffee. I was, however, going to take care of something else.
While I sipped my first espresso of the day, I called Bailey, Xander’s fiancée. She was running the confectionery and started her day early.
“Hello, Beckett,” she replied in a singsong voice. There was music on her end.
“You’re already making batter?” I guessed.
“I’m so predictable, huh?”
“No, but it’s eight o’clock in the morning, and you have music playing in the background. I put two and two together.”
She laughed. “That makes sense. So, what can I do for you?”
“I need a box of pralines.”
“Sure. Any specific occasion?”
I hesitated for a split second. “They’re for someone who likes them very much.”
“Beckett, everyone likes the LeBlanc-Broussard pralines.”
