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“No, I think your woman might be upset,” Beckett said. “But don’t quote me on it in case I’m wrong. Definitely not my area of expertise, knowing how women think or understanding what they want.”

“Shit.” I took out my phone and looked at her messages again. I blinked. “Fuck! You’re right.”

How the hell did I misinterpret this? True, I’d been running on adrenaline for the past few weeks, but it was right there in black-and-white.

I ran a hand through my hair, looking up at my brothers. “I need to leave.”

Beckett laughed. “Making us feel even more special.”

“Dude, I screwed up. I need to fix it.”

“You know,” Anthony said, “this is the first time I’ve seen you lose your cool... Well, maybe that’s not the right way to say it.” He took another sip, tilting his head like he was having a lot of fun. “But you’re usually so in control of yourself, so sure that youcan solve any situation or challenge. Now you’re fretting over some messages.”

I stood up, pointing at him. “It’s not just a few messages. You know that. Stop making fun of me.”

“No chance,” Anthony replied.

Beckett laughed again. “Dude, sorry to break it to you, but you can’t boss us around. But it’s fun when you try. So, by all means, continue entertaining us.”

“Another time. I need to go see Grace.”

“Where is she?” Anthony asked.

I considered this for a second. “She told me her schedule for today...”

Why wasn’t I remembering it? My neurons were more fried than I thought.

Then it hit me. “She worked from home today. That’s right. I was supposed to pick her up from home.”

“Dude, you really are fucking exhausted,” Beckett said in a serious tone.

“As I said, it’s been a rough few weeks.”

Anthony straightened up at the table. “You know you can always count on us to pick up some slack whenever you have an emergency, right? We know you’re the fixer and all that, but we’re here to help.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind for the future. Right now, I need to find my woman and apologize.”

“No way we can help there,” Beckett said.

Anthony nodded. “We would probably just make it worse.”

“I didn’t ask the two of you to help,” I pointed out.

“I will say, though,” Beckett replied, “that we already did by pointing out that you can’t read, I guess.”

I shook my head. “Stop giving me a hard time.”

“There you go again, trying to tell us what to do. It’s not working,” Anthony argued.

“Okay, I’m leaving now. I have to get to Grace.”

I hurried out of the bar, pulling my keys out of my pocket as I practically jogged to the parking lot behind LeBlanc & Broussard. I wanted to see Grace right now. The more I thought about our messages, the more callous my replies seemed. Like I was rubbing it in her face.

I should’ve discussed this with her earlier, but with everything we both had going on, it slid to the back burner. I didn’t even give much thought to what would happen when Gaston finally contacted us again. I just assumed we’d work it out.

When I arrived in Grace’s neighborhood, I parked right in front of her building. As I stepped out of the car, I checked her window. The lights were on—she was home. I didn’t want to call and check beforehand because this apology was a face-to-face kind of thing. I was lucky that her favorite bakery was open until late into the evening and on the same block as her building.

I stepped inside and looked at the display case. They were almost sold out.