Mr. Cane stood up straight and Mom and Dad walked around him, Mom announcing, "The steak is still grilling but should be done soon! I'll put the wine in the freezer to get cool!"
"Get settled in and me out back for a few beers," Dad said to him, pointing toward the deck.
"Alright." Mr. Cane walked past me, tossing a wink my way. "Don't worry. You'll warm up to me soon enough. Enjoy those chocolates, Bits."
I smashed my lips together, my face burning hot again.
My heart fluttered in my chest.
My palms were sweaty.
I was afraid for my life out there, the stranger-danger bell chiming in my head, but not anymore. No, now it was just . . . a weird, bubbly sensation running through me. One I couldn't fully describe.
I'd never known what having a crush felt like before that day. I didn't understand the tingle in my chest, or the tumbling in my belly. I couldn't understand why I was so speechless, or why my face suddenly felt so hot. I didn't know what the hell I was feeling, and that freaked me out.
But there was one thing I knew for certain. I knew this man was no good. I knew he was bad. He didn't make good first impressions—well, not with children anyway.
He was overly confident, and he was a smoker, which Mom always told me was a bad habit. He was a jerk—no, if I was being honest, he was a straight-up asshole. I knew he probably cared more about himself than anyone else—he just gave me that sort of impression.
And despite knowing all of that, I still developed a crush on Mr. Cane.
And I didn't like it. I didn't like it one bit.
TWO
CANE
I hadn’t seen my buddy Derek in eight long months. Work had me slammed and he had a busy schedule himself. He had a family he was taking care of, and I had a business to grow. We’d finally stopped making excuses for ourselves and agreed to do dinners.
I was glad.
It was nice to hang out with his family. Mindy I’d met before when she came to pick Derek up from the bar because he was too drunk to drive back. She was a nice woman, a perfect match for D. Kandy was a sweet girl, with an attitude just like him.
I hadn’t spent a lot of time around kids, so it was funny to see her run away from me one moment, and then blush when I gave chocolates to her the next. I guess I needed to work on my manners. I was a bit rusty, but they understood.
She was a smart, sweet girl. Derek wasn’t kidding about how brilliant she was.
“Kandy has straight A’s right now,” Derek bragged after chewing his steak. “She’s a smart girl. Her teachers love her.”
“Dad.” She glared at him, and her cheeks turned rosy as she tried to avoid looking at me.
“What, Kandy? It’s true! You’re a smart girl. You don’t have to be ashamed of it.”
When she finally looked at me, her face almost as red as a beet. I smiled at her, which made her neck flush too. She ducked her head down, chewing her food.
“How are you loving being the owner of Tempt?” Mindy asked with a big smile. “It must be an amazing feeling to have a company that big and to own all of it.”
“Oh, it is. Thank you for asking.” I picked up my water. “I love my job. Investing in it at a young age was the best decision I’ve ever made.”
She nodded. “That’s great, Cane.”
“Well, I’m proud of you, man” Derek added. “I really am. I remember when you told me you were going to school and everything. How you kept saying you felt like you were never going to get out of there.”
We both laughed.
“Oh, yeah. I remember. Those were tough days, man. But I got out of there. Graduated and went straight to work. It was a struggle at first to build it, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
“Amazing,” Mindy said, elated.
During the rest of dinner and even through dessert, Derek’s little girl was still trying not to look at me. She’d fail every time I glanced her way. There were moments she would cave, and when I felt her eyes on me, I’d wink at her, just to get under her skin. She’d either snatch her eyes away really quickly, or poke her tongue out at me with a slight grimace.
I had a feeling it would take her a while to warm up to me as a person, but I didn’t mind. I planned on making many more trips to the Jennings’ home in the future. Derek was my best friend, and I couldn’t forget to mention that Mindy was a wonderful cook. Having good talks and great food always made for the perfect Saturday night.
It had taken a while for Derek and I to find time to hang out with so much going on in our lives. I was glad that we finally did.
Being around them made me feel like I belonged.
It was a nice feeling—a feeling I never wanted to go away.
THREE
KANDY
My love-hate relationship with Cane grew in size, dwindled, and then blossomed again with each passing year. It was like watching cycles of clothes washing inside a washing machine, the back and forth, wishy-washiness. The same routine over and over again.
He came around at least once a month for dinner, always with a new bottle of wine his company had created, some Belgian chocolates—some caramel-filled and some not—and his smart-ass mouth.
The only reason it wasn't a full-blown hate-hate relationship was because he brought me sweets every time.
By age thirteen, I felt I was getting too old for the gift of chocolates. I'd finally hit puberty, had gotten my period months ago, and like all teenage girls assumed when they were thirteen, I was pretty much a "woman" now.
I remember the day he came to our home with two bags instead of one.
"You can keep it. I won't eat them," I told him when he offered them. "They'll screw up my diet." My parents were nowhere in sight, both in the kitchen preparing the food while I sat in the living room reading.
"Bits, I brought this chocolate for you, just like I always do." He tossed them onto my lap. "Don't break the tradition. Take them."
"And if I don't?" I challenged.
He rolled his neck, and it cracked. I was so sick of that damn neck roll. Then again, a lot of things made me sick of people at this age.
"Give it to a friend for all I care." He turned his back to me and started to walk off. It was interesting. He would only act that way when my parents weren't around, but around them, he was practically a saint, and oh-so-sweet, as Mom would say.
"God, you're so annoying," I muttered.
"Right back at you, Kandy Cane," he said without looking back.
I was pretending to be the careless 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 it 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, the infamous wine and chocolates 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 #1 in a popular magazine, which boosted the Tempt name and it's sales. Celebrities began posting images of his wine, and it slowly became a household wine brand.
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 his family or personal life. He’d spoken of a sister and mentioned she lived in Hollywood because she wanted to be an actress, but not much else.
I began to warm up to Cane several years later, though. He was a great person and also a great friend to our 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 see Cane as more of a friend than anything else. He took 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.
Around age seventeen, I'd gotten over most of my pre-mature, hormonal nonsense, and not only that, he began bringing me pens and notebooks from his job, along with the delicious chocolates. They all had the word Tempt on them, his company's name. I loved to write, and I loved collecting pens and he knew that, so getting them was a true pleasure, even more so than the chocolates.
He would surprise me with Tempt's latest notebooks and pens for the employees during several of our dinners and I thanked him sarcastically.
“You’re always writing in those notebooks,” he’d said the very first time he gave me a notebook set and pens.
“I don’t think I’d be able to live without my journals. They help me express myself a lot better.”
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 ignore how, whenever I heard his car pull up, I'd rush to the window and watch him get out.
I would purposely 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 older than me. It was too big of a number.
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. But eventually, things changed for the worse, and I didn't want to consider Cane family anymore.
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 and was ready. I heard another door shut, though, and my smile immediately collapsed.
With a slight frown, I rushed to my window, spotting Cane walking up the sidewalk that was scattered with orange and brown leaves. My heart nearly failed me when I saw a woman at his side, her arm linked through his.
Straight, slick brown hair.
Rosy red lips.
Tall and thin, but not too thin that she didn’t have physique.
She was stunning from what I could see.
I stepped away when I heard the doorbell ring, my heart racing now. I was too nosey to stick around in my room.
Curious, I finished getting ready and then walked down the stairs as casually as possible, my frilly pink dress flowing around me.
Mom and Dad were introducing themselves, and then I heard laughter and the woman's shrill voice say, "Wow, I love your dress!"
I finally stepped around the corner as all of them chatted and greeted each other.
Cane looked at me first.
And then Mom.
And then her.
She was even prettier up close. Silky, beige skin, green eyes, and perky breasts. They weren’t fake either. I instantly envied her.
"You must be Kandy," she said, stepping toward me. She even had manners. Wow.
"I am," I said, tipping my chin. She pulled me into a hug and my eyes stretched wide. I found Cane's gray-green eyes, and a smile twitched at his lips.
I avoided a frown.
"So nice to finally meet you! Quinton has told me all about you! I'm Kelly." Quinton. She used his first time? Intimate…
She pulled away and I smiled at her. It was forced and tight. "It's nice to meet you too, Kelly."
"So—dinner is ready! How about we pop open that bottle of wine you have there, Cane, and let's eat!" Dad declared.
"Oh, that sounds amazing," Kelly chimed. "I've been saving my appetite for tonight's dinner. Cane has told me all about how wonderful your cooking is, Mindy."
Mom beamed and thanked her graciously. Great. She knew how to kiss Mom's ass too.
Mom wasn't an easy woman to please, but she loved compliments about her cooking and clothes the most. After all, she worked hard trying to perfect her look and her delicious dinners. She'd scroll through Pinterest like a madwoman, asking me constantly if something looked good enough to wear or cook.
Kelly walked with Mom to the kitchen, Dad following after them to most likely help. Cane was unbuttoning his suit jacket, about to put it on the coat rack, when he glanced over his shoulder at me. "What do you think of Kelly?" he asked.
"She's pretty," I admitted.
He smirked. "I know." He hung his jacket on the coat rack. "Jealous?"
I narrowed my eyes at him, my heart slowly thudding now. Asshole.
He was only kidding, but he had no idea just how jealous I really was.
Kelly was charming and witty. She was simple and practical. She knew when to laugh and when to appear concerned, shocked, and so on. She was everything I was not, and I wanted to hate her—I really did—but I couldn't.
She didn't deserve my hate.
She didn't know about the hardcore crush I had on my dad's best friend.
She only knew me as Kandy Jennings, Derek and Mindy Jennings' eighteen-year-old daughter.
So instead of directing my hate toward her, I passed it over to Mr. Quinton Cane himself.
Yes, it was childish of me to no longer accept the chocolates he brought to our dinners, and to not say more than two words to him whenever he happened to drop by. It was beyond childish of me to hurry and finish my food and excuse myself from the table, just so I wouldn't see him and Kelly holding hands, or kissing, or sharing an inside joke. It was dumb of me to think he even cared how I felt when he didn't even have the slightest clue.
Well, I thought he didn't care, until one day I was leaving school and his car was parked in front of the building. It was April in Decatur, Georgia and the sun was beaming down, no clouds in sight.
Cane was leaning against the passenger door of his Chrysler 300 wearing gray slacks and a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses covering his eyes. I couldn't tell behind the dark tint of the lenses, but I was pretty sure his eyes were fixed on me.
"Oh my gosh,” Frankie gasped as we walked out of the building. “Who is he?”
I stopped walking, focusing on him. "Yeah. He's my Dad's friend. The one I’ve been telling you about," I mumbled. I had no idea why he was here right now.
"Oh—the hot, rich guy!” she said, almost loud enough for him to hear. I wanted to strangle her. My face flooded with heat and embarrassment swept through me.
I stopped and held Frankie's wrists, looking her deep in the eyes. "Play it cool. Is he still looking at me?"
"Uh, yeah," she laughed. "He took his sunglasses off. Looks like he's ogling you to death."
I looked back with narrowed brows and Cane had indeed taken his sunglasses off. His head was tilted now and he flicked his fingers twice, a silent demand for me to come to him.
"I'll call you later," I told her.
"Please do! I want to know everything!"
She twirled around, meeting up with her boyfriend, Troy, by the flagpole.
Unease swept through me, a bundle of nerves building up in the pit of my stomach. I walked to him and my heart was slamming down on my ribcage. My mind was screaming a million different thoughts.
Thoughts like: Oh, he's so fucking hot. Why does he have to be so damn hot? I hate him and his stupid, cocky, sexy face.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, finally meeting up to him. I looked around, meekly tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Everyone was staring at me. I felt exposed, like everyone knew how I felt about this older, hotter man.
"Your dad called and told me your mother had a last minute meeting and wouldn't be able to pick you up today," he said. "He's on duty, per usual, and since I don't have any meetings for the rest of the day, I told him I would come get you."
"Why?" I asked, apprehensive. “I could have caught the bus to my friend’s house.”
He pushed off the car, grabbing the door handle and pulling the door open. "I wanted to."
I ran my tongue over my dry bottom lip, peering around. People were still watching our exchange. I guess if I saw a handsome man like Cane parked in front of our school with an expensive car, I’d be staring too.
I knew getting into his car was the only thing that would spare me from the gaping and gawking, so I slid my backpack off, handed it to him when he extended a hand for it, and climbed inside. He shut the door behind me right away.
The scent of leather and sandalwood surrounded me, as well as a small trace of tobacco. The car was clean and practically empty, like he hardly spent any time in it. There was nothing in the cup holders but a silver zippo lighter.
Cane slid behind the wheel after putting my backpack in the trunk and started the engine. It pulled off, smooth and easy, and he drove with his left hand, checking his wrist for the time.
"You have a clock in your dashboard, you know," I said.
He glanced sideways. "Shut it, Bits."
I rolled my eyes, but my heart doubled in speed. It was already starting. The bantering. Teasing. The inside jokes. My own twisted little version of flirting.
Dirty Little Quickies Page 34