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Carlotta laughed. “If I let you sleep long enough to dream.”
I smiled, wondering how in the hell I’d gotten lucky enough that a fine woman like her wanted me, of all people, to share her bed.
I never did get around to dreaming about her.
Chapter 15
Carlotta
It was time. I had given Pippa plenty of time to make some decisions about her wedding day, including the actual date of the event, and she’d done nothing. No, that wasn’t exactly true, she’d done less than nothing. Weeks of planning, of securing a wedding cake maker, a venue, invitations and the like, and still I had no solid date to reserve anything.
Not one darn thing.
I stood on the doorstep of the surprisingly average home that Pippa shared with Ryan when he was in town, and rapped as hard as my knuckles could handle on the door. Pippa was a new mother and I respected that, the time and the effort it took to care for an infant, especially on her own, was inconceivable. But I needed answers and I wasn’t leaving until I got them.
The door opened, and there he was, Chase, frowning at me as if I was some kind of interloper.
“Carlotta? What are you doing here?”
I ignored the way my belly lurched and the way my skin instantly flamed with heat at the sight of him.
Why? Because Chase, for all of his southern gentleman ways, all his polite manners and that aww, shucks I’m such a nice guy appeal, he was no different than any other scoundrel on the street. Five days had passed since he’d rocked my world and I hadn’t heard neither hide nor hair from him. It didn’t matter how handsome he looked in today’s mayoral getup of gray pinstriped slacks and slush pink dress shirt that somehow made his pale skin look sun-kissed. None of it mattered, not to me anyway.
“Is Pippa around?”
He blinked at my abrupt tone and stepped back with a nod. “Everything all right?”
I ignored him once again and marched inside to confront my sort-of client. “Pippa, we need to talk.”
She looked up from her fussy baby with big blue eyes full of confusion. “Carlotta. This is a nice surprise. I think.” I understood her confusion and I took responsibility for a good chunk of it. Out of respect for her status as a new mom, I’d given her plenty of leeway, made tons of excuses, but that was all in the past. “What’s up?”
“What’s up,” I repeated her words with as much patience as I could muster. “What’s up is that I can’t keep making plans for your wedding without a clear-cut date of when that wedding is actually supposed to take place. Set a date, right here and now, or I’m done planning this until you do.” I felt bad doing it this way, especially in the face of her obvious exhaustion, but in time Ryanna would sleep through the night, wouldn’t need to feed so often, her problems would lessen. Mine, however, would not. She looked at me with wide, shocked eyes. “I’m sorry but you need to at least provide basic details, and we needed those details yesterday.” I folded my arms while she rocked the fussy baby in her arms, I tapped my foot impatiently for good measure. I knew Pippa, she was as stubborn and own-way as they come, but I wasn’t going to let her wiggle out of dealing with this. The “this” being her own wedding.
Pippa looked at me, and then her brother as he re-entered the living room, and pouted. “Are you two ganging up on me?” Her eyes started to well with unshed tears, but she wasn’t the first bride to hide behind tears. I knew all their tricks.
I aimed a freshly manicured nail in her direction and shook my head. “That’s not going to get you out of anything this time, Pip.” I started to pace as my frustration—at my bride-to-be and her brother—took hold. “I told you to wait until you settled into motherhood, but you insisted. You requested a big southern wedding that you have zero time or energy to plan. So, do you want to get married in two months, or next summer? What will it be?”
I can feel Chase’s gaze boring a hole into the side of my face, willing me, almost daring me to glance in his direction, but I refused. I wasn’t here to talk personal details, this was strictly a business call.
Finally, Pippa showed signs of life. She got up from the sofa and shoved Ryanna into my arms. The little girl was beautiful, if a little fussy, and instinctively I slowly rock her back and forth. “You don’t understand Carlotta, I’m so tired all of the time, and most of the time I can hardly string together a sentence or remember what needs to be done, never mind plan wedding details.”
With Ryanna in my arms, I did my best to keep my voice even and calm. “I do understand Pippa, which is exactly why I’m giving you the chance right now to choose a wedding date, or postpone it.” Usually, I was a little kinder with paying clients, but Pippa had pushed the limits of my patience over the past few weeks. And sure, maybe I blamed her just the teensiest bit for what happened with me and Chase.
Pippa nodded, her gaze fixed on the floor as she matched my movements, pacing the length of the expansive living room. “Last weekend in July. Does that work?”
I nod as I mentally pictured the calendar in my head. “Yes. Two months is a tight fit, but it’s definitely doable. Was that so hard?” I smiled to soften the blow of my words and my previous ranting.
Pippa’s shoulders sank. “No, it wasn’t. I’m sorry.”
I waved off her apology, because I didn’t need to place blame, I needed details. “It’s in the past as of right now. Moving on, did you like any of the cakes?”
She stopped pacing and nodded eagerly, a tired smile spread across her pretty face. “I really, really loved the whiskey, maple bacon cake. It was everything I want for my wedding, a little bit country and rock & roll, and a little sophisticated. But I’m worried, do you think it’s too trendy for Carson Creek?”
“Pippa, sweetheart, this is your wedding. There’s no such thing as too trendy, and you’re a trendy kind of girl. Your wedding should be what you want, not what everyone thinks you should have. You and Ryan have waited too long for this day to care one whit about what anyone else thinks. They’ll come and cry over the romance of it all, drink your booze and gobble up the cake no matter what.” It was a variation of my standard speech when brides began to worry too much about what the guests would think of this or that detail, but I held my breath anyway, and waited for my words to sink in.
Pippa thought long and hard about it while I rocked Ryanna back and forth, and gave her head a tiny sniff. “The whiskey bacon maple cake and the amaretto cake, but in cupcake form. Is that okay?”
“More than okay,” I assured her as I pulled out my phone with my free hand and made a voice note to connect with Madeline later today on the cake details. “What,” I asked when I caught Pippa and Chase sharing identical expressions of surprise aimed at me.
