Chapter NinePaige
When I woke up, I was sure last night had just been a bad dream. Then I swung my legs over the side of the bed and saw the champagne-colored cocktail dress crumpled on my floor, frowning as memories of last night clawed at the edges of my brain. But the wet nose of a certain little fluff ball nudged me again. Enchilada had to pee.
I steeled myself and tiptoed into the hall. The house was totally quiet. Cannon’s bedroom door was mostly shut, and I rushed past it. I grabbed the leash from the counter, and that’s when I saw it.
A Post-it note was stuck to my coffeemaker, Cannon’s messy handwriting scrawled across the paper.
We need to talk.
Four little words shouldn’t have had the ability to make me break out in hives, but when the reality of last night came crashing ba
