A big part of me wants to know all the details, but I know she has to tell me in her own time. So instead, I ask, “What’s your favorite thing to bake?”
“Hmm,” She thinks, smiling to herself. God, she’s so refreshing and different from the typical women I see. “Probably éclairs because they’re my mom’s favorite. Well, they were until I began experimenting with flavors. I think I gave her about a hundred and ten heart attacks already.”
“She didn’t like them?” I frown.
“Mom is old school. She thinks classics should stay classics, but it’s hard for her to say no to me, so she lets me do what I want. My cousin from France was in Paris last month and stopped in one of the new éclair stores that have been popping up all around Paris. It’s the only thing they make with fun flavors. I think it would be a nice addition to spice up the shop.” She pauses and looks up at me, and I almost lose my breath at her beauty. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”
“I could listen to you talk for hours,” I tell her truthfully.
She snuggles back into my chest. “I see Swoony Harrison is in the house tonight.”
“Swoony Harrison?” I chuckle.
She shrugs. “You have a lot of personalities. Grumpy Harrison, Jealous Harrison.” She looks up and widens her eyes. Waiting for me to protest.
I won’t.
She’s got me…I’m fucking jealous, and I’m owning it now.
“Go on,” I say dryly.
“Sweet and Swoony.”
“I’m not fucking sweet, Juliette,” I say unimpressed.
“To Claud, you are, and don’t try to lie. I heard you on the phone.”
“I’m not going to be a dick to a five-year-old.” I scoff. “And she’s my daughter.”
Sweet. I’ve never heard of such a thing.
She pinches my side playfully and continues. “Demanding Mr. CEO.”
“That’s a good one,” I mutter.
She shakes her head. “Of course, you’d think that.”
“So, which one’s your favorite?” I ask curiously.
She scrunches her face in disgust. “I don’t want to say.”
“What? Why not?”
She flips her body so she’s lying facing the city view between my legs. I pull her closer to my chest, fix the blanket to get comfortable, and circle her with my arms.
“Well, of course, I like Swoony Harrison, who wouldn’t?” She shrugs and runs her hands up and down my legs. “But is it terrible to say I like you when you’re jealous?”
“Well, obviously, I’m not going to say it’s terrible since you’re describing me.”
“I’ve never had anyone be possessive over me. I like that you want me all to yourself.” She pauses. “Harrison?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Can I ask you something?” She whispers.
“Go for it.”
“This is off-topic, but it’s been playing in my mind.” She thinks for a minute. I can tell by her hesitation how her hands stop and go on my legsshe’s nervous to ask. “I know all of our run-ins were crazy coincidences. But why is it you automatically thought I was a stalker? Why wouldn’t you assume it was because Becks and Matteo being together, putting us in the position of seeing one another? It’s what I thought.”
