Wanting Mr. Cane (Cane 1) - Page 5

"Right back at you, Kandy Cane," he said, never looking back.

I was pretending to be the snotty teen—you know, the kind where nothing ever fazed her, and she just shrugged everything off? Yeah, that definitely wasn't me in that moment, and it wasn't working.

Every time he called me Kandy Cane, I wanted to squeal. I wanted him to say it over and over and over again. His voice was like silk, smooth and delicate. It was deep and somehow hypnotizing. He constantly joked with me and my parents about how my name matched so well with his. To be honest, I liked it. Probably a little too much.

When he walked out back with my parents, I went up to my room, storing the chocolates in the drawer of my vanity, like I always did. I would eat some of them at night before bed, or I'd take some to school and share them at lunch with Frankie—but I was never going to tell him that.

These chocolates were too good to pass up, and when I did some research online and saw they were $15 a bag...well, I couldn't be that much of a bitch by wasting them.

I found out a lot about Cane during my research on Tempt, too.

He'd launched Tempt, a wine and chocolate company, when he was only twenty-five years old. By age twenty-seven, he'd won many awards for his wines, and his brand was ranked first place in a popular magazine, which boosted the Tempt name and its sales even higher. Celebrities began posting images of his wine, and it quickly became a household name.

He was featured in an entrepreneur magazine for Atlanta, his face all over the cover, and there was even an article about how he got started. There was nothing about his personal life though, or his family, which left me curious because, even with us, he hardly spoke about anything personal. He’d mentioned a sister who lived in California because she wanted to be an actress, but not much else.

I started warming up to Cane several years later, though. He was a great person and also a great friend to my family. He attended several of my softball games after I’d shamelessly begged him. He cheered me on right along with Mom and Dad, and of course I always played my hardest when he made an appearance. My crush on him was still present, but I began to appreciate Cane for more than that. He made my family happy, especially my Dad. I couldn’t count how many times Cane showed up at our place with tickets to a local basketball or baseball game.

There were times when he’d take me out for milkshakes, even when I knew he had a busy schedule. He told me I was a champ and had no doubt that I would get an athletic scholarship for softball. I hoped so.

By age seventeen, I'd gotten over most of my premature, hormonal nonsense, and he began bringing me pens and notebooks from his job, along with the delicious chocolates. They all had the word Tempt on them. I loved to write, and I loved collecting pens, so getting them was a true pleasure, even more so than the chocolates.

He surprised me with Tempt's latest branded notebooks and pens during several of our dinners, and I thanked him in the sarcastic way only a teenager can.

The very first time he gave me a notebook set and pens he’d said, “I noticed you’re always writing in notebooks.”

“They help me express myself a lot better. I don’t think I’d be able to live without my journals.”

He smirked. “Well, good. I’ll keep that in mind.” That one smirk made my belly go haywire. The butterflies had been unleashed, and I couldn’t control them.

I still pretended I didn't like him, which was my own version of flirting, and somehow it worked. Pretending not to like him, but really admiring every single thing about him. I couldn't ignore the way my heart raced when he sat beside me at dinner, and his arm or knee would accidentally brush against mine. I couldn't forget how I'd rush to the window and watch him get out whenever I heard his car pull up.

I would intentionally wear skirts and dresses whenever he was around, but he would never notice. I kind of wished I was older so I could tell him just how I felt. Unfortunately, he was seventeen years my senior. That was a lot of years.

I liked him a lot, and even though he teased and taunted me, I still wanted him.

I enjoyed his company, and so did my parents. They trusted him. They loved him. He was like family to us.

One day, I was getting ready for dinner when I heard a car door shut. I smiled as I stood in front of my bathroom mirror and fluffed my straightened brown hair. I knew it was him. I heard another door shut, though, and my smile immediately collapsed.

Tags: Shanora Williams Cane Billionaire Romance
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