Page 44 of Dishing Up Love

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Chapter 12

Curtis

IT TAKES EVERYTHING in me not to reach across the table and pull Erin into my lap to swipe her tears away and comfort her. The only thing that stops me is seeing clearly that they are happy tears and somehow sensing what I said heals some part of her that was hurting. And knowing I’ve done that for her, that my words have made her feel better about something that’s obviously bothered her for some unknown reason, is the best feeling in the entire world. So I leave her be and let her bask in the glow I see starting to spark inside her, and I decide right then and there that it’ll be a lifelong goal of mine, for the rest of my goddamn life, to see just how bright I can get that glow to shine.

We sit in comfortable silence, finishing up our plate of beignets, until I can’t hold it in any longer… literally.

“I made a mistake.” I wince.

Her eyes immediately lose a bit of the light I put there before she shutters her expression, and I regret my words instantly.

I lean across the table a take hold of her chin, looking her square in the eye when I say, “I broke the seal earlier, and now I really, really gotta pee.”

Relief overtakes her expression as she laughs, pulling back from my hand and then standing. “Goob. Come on, I’ll show you the closest bathroom. It’s down past these shops a ways.”

I pull out my wallet and put two twenties under the napkin dispenser. The waiter deserves the huge tip for the amount of powdered sugar every-damn-where, which he has to clean up. We pick up our to-go cups of coffee and exit the canopied café, heading back toward the French Market. We pass several souvenir shops, a Harley Davidson store, another green-canopied café on our left across the narrow one-way street, and a bar, until we finally come to the public restrooms. They’re situated back into a courtyard of sorts, and I in no way feel comfortable leaving Erin out here alone. Especially with the group of what look like gypsies sitting on the ground next to the building.

“I’ll just wait here,” she tells me, but I hesitate going into the men’s room. “What’s wrong?” she asks when I just stand there, looking between her, the four young men and women in ratty clothes surrounded by backpacks and a scruffy-looking mutt on a leash, and then the bathroom that’s practically screaming my name.

Without giving it a second thought, I dip down, knowing she’d totally fight me otherwise, and pick her up over my shoulder, hauling her into the bathroom with me, her squawks echoing off the brick walls around us as she complains about me “almost” spilling her coffee.

Even though it’s a three-stall bathroom, I close and lock the main door behind us. Everyone else can wait until I’m done, although I doubt we’ll get much traffic back here aside from the homeless kids outside. This area of the Quarter isn’t busy this late at night. It seems everyone else is several streets over on Bourbon. But I’m not taking any chances.

I set her back on her feet and give her a pointed look. “Don’t. Open. That. Door,” I order, walking backward until I reach a urinal.

She puts her empty hand on her hip and cocks it sassily. “I don’t care if you’re some big-deal, world-famous celebrity chef. You can’t tell me what to do when I’m not naked, Curtis,” she says with a huff, lifting an eyebrow.

And I stop my backward movement, my jaw dropping when her words register in my brain, and I burst out laughing at the same time my cock grows stiff for her once again.

“Goddamn it, sugar. Look what you did. Now I’m going to have to do a handstand in order to take a leak,” I tell her, gesturing toward the tented zipper of my jeans.

“Yeah, well. Serves you right, going all caveman on me.” Her eyes go from mine, down to my bulging dick, and back up to meet mine once more before she slowly makes a half circle, giving me her back, but not before I catch the little smirk on her sexy mouth. I set my coffee on the nearby sink and make quick work of facing the urinal, having to lean in such a way that I don’t pee on myself, glancing over my shoulder and taking in the view of her perfect ass in those jean shorts. “Actually,” she adds, “who am I kidding? That was hot as fuck. Thank you for saving me from having to stand out there with those people. Some of them can be really fucking mean, even when you go out of your way to be nice to them.”


Tags: K.D. Robichaux Romance