Page 8 of Kandi's Crush: A BWWM Sweet Billionaire Romance

“Good morning. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Have mercy.

He wore black basketball shorts and a blue sleeveless workout shirt. The blue of his shirt deepened the color of his eyes to a beautiful turquoise. His dark chestnut hair was damp from a shower. My eyes found and focused on the cord-like veins rippling through his forearms. Chadwick in workout clothes reminded me of when we were younger—boyishly handsome, tall with tousled hair . He’d been a dreamboat then. He was sexy as fuck now.

Kandi, close your mouth.

My feet were rooted in place as my eyes drifted from his arms to his throat. The blood coursing through his body caused the vein in his neck to pulsate. My eyes followed as he ran a tongue along his soft, full lips.

Chadwick took pleasure in me gawking at him like a pervert. Judging by his smile, he enjoyed it. Self-consciousness raced through my thoughts. I cleared my throat and looked everywhere but at his biceps.

“Good morning.”

“You’ve returned. I thought I’d scared you away,” he said, swinging his long legs over the bar stools. He sniffed the napkin-lined basket. “Are these for me?”

“I had a late-night baking marathon and wanted to drop yummy treats at the office. I had a couple of extras,” I lied. I’d baked the treats especially for him. Reaching into the basket, I handed him the jar of preserves.

“Wow! Thanks.” He slathered on a large heaping of jam before taking a big bite of a muffin. He talked with his mouth full. “Mmm. Muffins and cookies. Two of my favorite things to eat. I also enjoy cakes. Nice, round, perfectly shaped cakes.”

A hint of a grin pulled at the corner of his lips. He was the king of the double entendre, and he would always try to embarrass me.

“Kandace, if you work here, prepare yourself for a little friendly ribbing. You spent the first decade of your life making my life pure hell, and now it’s time for payback.” He took another bite of the muffin and finished chewing before he spoke. “This is your last summer of fun before the real world kicks in. What do you have planned?”

“I subleased an apartment over in Iberville. I have no real plans other than hanging out with friends and weekends at Orange Beach. Oh, and I will work here.”

“Fun times.”

“What brings you back here? Are you going to work for St. Clair Enterprises?”

“No, I’m not. I have a few real estate projects in the works. Even though I will work for myself, my father pressures me to join St. Clair. He wants to groom me to become CEO,” he sighed.

“That’s awesome!”

“Is it? I’m indifferent.”

“Aww. Come on. It’s your destiny. It is more prestigious than being a whiskey brewer. I never told you, but I think brewing whiskey is an awesome career choice.”

Surprise registered in his expression. I remembered every one of our conversations. I even remembered the conversations I’d eavesdropped on.

“You wanted to be one of the Costco sample ladies.” He shook his head.

“I was seven years old. In addition, the samples are delicious. After giving it some thought, I want to be a demonstrator at Costco. I’ll apply in the morning.” I reached into the basket and grabbed a cookie from a sealed container.

“Hey. Those are mine.” He moved the basket closer to his chest. “How about a trade? Your cookie for one of mine?”

“In your dreams.” I glared at his smirking expression. His face relaxed into a friendly smile. “Have you figured out what you want to do when you grow up?”

“I don’t have a clue. What about you?” He took another bite of the muffin.

“I majored in finance because I enjoy math. I hate that I don’t have any creative pursuits.”

“Are you sure? You’re a damn good baker.” He chewed noisily. “Maybe you’re supposed to play with numbers during the day and explore your creativity in your free time. I have a suggestion! Bake cookies for your starving friends.”

“Let me guess. You’re my starving friend?” I handed him a napkin as he continued to chew and nod. “You make a good point. I’m fortunate to have the rest of my life to figure it out.”

Chadwick’s phone rang, and he excused himself before walking to the console table in the foyer to retrieve it. He turned his back on me and took the phone call. I resumed dust mopping the floor.

Chadwick and I were both expected to live a life that other people had mapped out for us. We both knew it, whether or not we said it out loud. Our aspirations didn’t matter. Family obligations came first—no ifs, ands, or buts.

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