Page 47 of Never and Always
Her eyes went wide. “Eight thirty?” She scrambled off me. “I have a video call with Johannesburg at nine thirty.” She raced for the powder room, long legs flying. “I need my clothes, Murray.”
I sat up. Ah, there was my workaholic city girl.
It seemed she was bouncing back from the events of last night.
I needed to shower and change. Then once I got to the Langston Windward, I’d find Caden. We needed a plan to deal with Chance Ellis, once and for all.
As I pulledout of my driveway, with Piper in my passenger seat, I saw the curtains of my Dad’s front windows twitch.
I’m sure he’d gotten another eyeful of Piper and had questions.
“I can’t be late.”
I glanced at her. Damn, I couldn’t believe she was just as gorgeous with a freshly scrubbed face. She was back in her fancy, wide-legged trousers and she’d twisted her hair up behind herhead. Even without makeup, she was Glossy City Piper again. I was glad she looked well rested after the night before.
“You won’t be late, and if you’re running five minutes behind, London won’t crumble and no one will die.”
“My call is with Johannesburg,” she said primly.
“I’ll get you there, babe.”
I pulled into the staff parking lot at the back of the hotel. Someone from my team had been through with the snowplow and snow blower. I parked and turned off the engine.
“Don’t move from that seat, Piper. I’ll help you down.”
“I’m perfectly capable?—”
“Not in those heels. It’s slippery. I won’t have you breaking an ankle.”
She just stared at me with some look on her face I couldn’t quite decipher.
“Okay,” she murmured.
Damn, did no one ever look out for her? Take care of her?
No. I already knew the answer. She was so busy being Super Piper, being amazing at her job, and taking care of her family, she didn’t let anyone take care of her.
I circled my truck. Too bad, she was going to have to get used to it.
I opened the door, then gripped her waist and lifted her out. I watched her bite her lip.
“What?” I demanded.
“Nothing.”
“Piper,” I growled.
“Okay.” She tossed her head back, a tendril of hair escaping her twist. “It’s hot.”
I frowned. It was damn cold out here. “What’s hot?”
“The way you haul me around. I’m sure I’ll lose feminist points or something, but when you lift me, carry me, or punch a guy in the face for me, it’s hot.”
Fuck. I felt her words hit me hard. I backed her against my truck.
“Everett,” she breathed.
“Right here, big city.”
