Page 18 of Kandi's Crush: A BWWM Sweet Billionaire Romance

“Hop on. I can’t give you any cheese and crackers. That’s for the customers who reserved in advance.”

“That’s fine. We would just like the ride.” Not quite the start of a romantic excursion as I had hoped. I climbed down into the boat and held out my hands. Kandace gripped my hand and stepped onto the boat before taking a seat. Once I had settled next to her, I nodded to the gondolier. Without warning, he swept the oar into the water, and we propelled away from the dock.

City Park embodied all things New Orleanian in beauty and culture. It perfectly combined architecture and nature. Italian music blared from the sound system onboard the boat as the gondolier steered us through a canal underneath the canopies of four-hundred-year-old live oak trees. Spanish moss dripped from the curled branches and dipped into the water. Flocks of white gulls flew overhead, and we rowed under rustic stone bridges.

Exactly one hour after we started the ride, we disembarked at the boat dock. Kandace practically glowed, intoxicated with joy. She leaned over and hugged the gondolier, and to my surprise, he smiled back and wished us a good day. I reached down to help her out of the gondola, and after we walked toward the food trucks, I conveniently forgot to release her hand.

At one point, our fingers intertwined, and I unconsciously rubbed my thumb across her knuckles. Old feelings and warm memories flooded my thoughts. Kandace always had her head buried in a book, her mind full of big dreams and plans for the future. The version of her now standing at my side was so different and yet so familiar. I wanted to learn this new Kandace’s secrets and desires. How much had changed since we’d last spent time together?

I guided us to SneauxBalls, a New Orleans’ style snowball truck. The line snaked along the walkway, there had to have been at least twenty people in front of us. I never once released her hand. An eternity passed before we moved to the front of the line. Kandace walked to the window to place her order.

The cashier was a young woman, with flaming red hair and a lip piercing. She couldn’t have been much older than eighteen years old. She smiled brightly as she listened.

“I’ll have a King Cake Strawberry, please.”

“Your wife has excellent taste. That’s my favorite. What will you have—“

“We’re not married,” Kandace cut her off, laughing nervously.

The cashier’s eyes widened with embarrassment, and I jumped in.

“Not yet,” I corrected, gathering Kandace into my arms and resting my chin on her head. “She’s my fiancée.” I held her and swayed side-to-side a few times, and Kandace’s body relaxed slowly. “I’ll have the Dreamsicle.”

Once released from my arms, Kandace turned to glance at me. For a moment, just a tiny moment, she stared at me. Unable to decipher the expression, I raised my wrist and held my watch over the payment processor until a pulse and beep alerted the payment approval.

The cashier pushed two mason glasses filled with the flavored shaved ice and condensed milk confections. “Congratulations on your engagement! Laissez les bon temps rouler!”

Let the good times roll.

I spotted an empty park bench along the walkway, neatly tucked away in a shaded area, and I gestured toward it. Kandace and I made our way to the bench, narrowly avoiding a horde of children playing tag and a group of senior citizens power walking. We both sat and faced each other. She took a spoonful of the snowball and groaned in appreciation.

“Thank you. I needed this.”

“You’re very welcome. Did you hear anything else from the CashApp guy?” I cringed at the eagerness in my tone. She swallowed her bite and shook her head.

“Thankfully, he disappeared.” She sighed resolutely, then lifted another hefty spoonful of the snowball to her lips. “I will take your advice and focus on meeting guys outside of dating apps.”

I wanted to smack my palm against my forehead. That advice had gone against my master plan. I didn’t want her to meet other guys—I wanted her to see me and only me. There was no way to talk her out of dating without looking jealous. I needed to make a move before it was too late.

Kandace

Yesterday’s trip to the park with Chadwick had been fun. Who wouldn’t enjoy spending time with a smart and funny guy? I’d never ridden in a gondola, and it was nice doing that with him. For a moment, I’d had to check my emotions. I’d thought we were just hanging out, yet it had felt like we were on a date. Maybe we were. He’d held my hand the entire time and hadn’t asked me to split the bills.

But it was Chadwick. I didn’t think he liked sweet dates in the park. I thought he enjoyed late-night activities like nightclubs, strip clubs, and bars. It surprised me he could go out in the sunlight without bursting into flames.

In the two short weeks of working with him, I’d learned that underneath the façade of cool arrogance lay a charming and well-mannered man. He never made me feel weird, even when the cashier had mistaken us for a married couple. He had played along with it.

Anyone could tell we were from different worlds. He was the epitome of velvet. His every move and gesture was smooth. He didn’t walk—he glided at an unhurried pace.

Me? I was cotton. Plain. Utilitarian. Neither elegant nor formal. If the girl in the red dress was his style, then I had a snowball’s chance in hell.

I wasn’t even sure what I wanted from him. I didn’t engage in random hookups, which seemed to be Chadwick’s modus operandi. And with as much as I knew about his background and his family, I doubted he would date a woman from the other side of the tracks.

“Tonight, the girls and I will party at Club Illusion.” I ignored Chadwick’s look of confusion. “You know. The new nightclub in the Warehouse District. Are you familiar with it? We have VIP tickets. I spent the entire week developing the outline for my final thesis, and I’m ready to blow it out.”

“Have you determined your topic?”

“Yes. The title is, ‘Societal Attitudes Toward Debit and Credit Cards.’ I will explore the topic across generational groups,” I paused for a minute before continuing. “Have you thought about returning to law school?”

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