Wanting Mr. Cane (Cane 1) - Page 40

The jet had already been started, and the engine was loud. Actually, the entire strip was loud. There were several other jets in various colors on the runway, parked beneath the bold Georgia sun. Some were even flying in.

The sound of tires rolling across gravel caught my ears, and I turned my head to look back, spotting a white Mercedes pulling up close to us. I couldn’t see who was driving. Through the window I could tell he was sporting a black hat. He stepped out of the car wearing a black suit and tie, bobbed his head at us, and then went for the back door.

“Who is that?” Frankie asked. As she did, Dad was getting out of the car, grunting a bit when he had to put a little weight on his bad leg.

The driver pulled the back door open, and Cane stepped out. His presence gave me chills, despite the blazing temperature. My core tightened, and my lips pressed flat as I took him all in.

He wore aviator sunglasses over his eyes, a button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows, and khaki slacks. The ink on his arms seemed to stand out even more, a stark contrast against the whitest shirt I’d ever laid eyes on. His hair had been trimmed neatly, the soft fade on the edges leading up to hair that’d been fingered into waves with gel.

“Holy shit,” Frankie whispered under her breath.

Holy shit was right. Cane looked fucking amazing. Even going on vacation, he was hot. He exuded confidence, the sex appeal gushing right out of his pores.

I realized I was staring at him like an idiot as he came closer, so I dropped my head, but of course Frankie kept gawking. She’d only seen him in person once, but not this close up.

“Cane,” Dad greeted with a hearty chuckle. They did their silly, manly handshake and then gave each other a brotherly hug before pulling away.

“How are you feeling, D?” Cane asked, and Dad let off a simple shrug.

“I’m about to get on a private jet to go on a very relaxing vacation with my family. Can’t get any better than that, man.”

Cane chuckled. “I hear that.”

Mom walked around the front of the truck and gave Cane a hug around the shoulders. “You look great, as always, Cane.”

“Thank you, Mindy. And you look very relaxed,” Cane noted. “The linen pants suit you well.”

Mom smiled, the same smile she always wore when she knew she’d chosen well. “Thank you. Figured I’d break them in for the upcoming week.”

The driver walked to the other side of the car and opened the other back door. I assumed he was getting Cane’s luggage and some other things, but a sandal appeared, and then a head with brown hair popped up.

Her body lifted in one smooth motion as she accepted the driver’s hand and thanked him for his assistance, and when the door was closed, my fluttering heart came to a standstill.

My breathing faltered.

“Who is she?” Frankie asked, looking Kelly up and down.

Kelly? But he said he wasn’t bringing her…

At first I assumed she was just seeing him off, but when the driver headed for the trunk and took out suitcases, some of them pink, some of them Tiffany blue—only colors Kelly would pick—the truth hit me.

Kelly was coming on vacation with us.

With Cane.

Sharing a room with him.

I blinked hard before finally putting my eyes on Cane. Mom and Dad were talking, and his eyes shifted over to me. It was a very, very brief look, but I saw the apology in his eyes. He didn’t even have to say anything. It was abundantly clear.

I could practically hear him thinking it: This wasn’t my plan. It just happened. I’m sorry.

“Oh, Kelly!” Mom squealed, as if she’d just realized Kelly was around.

“Mindy! Oh, look at you! You look great!”

They squealed like middle school girls, and I wanted to fucking vomit. Not only had Kelly wedged her way between Cane and me, but now she was winning Mom over. Before I knew it, they were going to be best fucking friends, and she’d be in my face all the time.

Dad went for the trunk and started to unload. I decided to help him. I couldn’t look at Kelly or Cane for too much longer.

“Who is that chick?” Frankie asked over my shoulder, following after me.

“Nobody,” I muttered.

“She’s clearly somebody,” she guffawed.

I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and turned rapidly, bumping right into someone’s chest.

Cane’s chest.

A soft gasp tumbled out of me, and even though I was livid—broiling inside with frustration and an edge of fury—I couldn’t deny my body’s reaction to him. My nipples stiffened, almost to the point of being uncomfortable. My eyelashes fluttered, and my mouth went bone-dry as I found his eyes.

“Kandy,” Cane murmured. “Let me take that for you.”

Tags: Shanora Williams Cane Billionaire Romance
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