"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Since I have you, I thought I'd take you to a late lunch before taking you home. I have reservations. You'll like it."
I sighed, twisting in my seat. His brows dipped when he glanced my way again. "Put your damn seatbelt on, Kandy. I’m not about to get my ass handed to me by your parents if something happens."
When he cursed at me, I felt good and bad all the same. He only cursed when we were alone and it gave me a thrill. Like it was a secret thing only we knew about. Like he considered me older and at his level of maturity.
I clicked my seatbelt into place and then threw my hands in the air. "There. Happy now?"
He smirked, but said nothing.
We were quiet for a few seconds, a song by Elton John lowly pouring out of the speakers.
"I know why you're upset with me," he finally said. "Why you've been treating me like shit the last couple of months."
I looked at him. "I'm not upset with anybody. I don't even care about you." That was a lie. A huge one.
"It's because of Kelly," he said, merely ignoring my comment.
My pulse skittered. He stopped at a red light and looked at me. "When I asked if you were jealous about Kelly, I didn't think you really would be, Kandy."
My heart dropped to my stomach. Shit, he knows. "I'm not jealous," I lied, palms clammy now. I snatched my gaze away, feeling the fire building in my throat now. I had the urge to open the car door and roll out—do anything that would spare me right from the shame and truths right now.
"You are. You like me. It's obvious by the way you treat me. Cute, honestly. A little crush that I'm sure will pass soon."
I sucked my teeth. "Is that why you picked me up? So you could rub it in my face while my parents aren't around?"
A grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "No. I'm just being a good friend and feeding you before dropping you off. That's all, Kandy Cane."
"Don't call me that," I mumbled.
The light flashed green and he drove, taking the freeway. "You are so bitter, you know that? I have no idea why your parents named you Kandy. They should have named you Sourpuss instead."
"Whatever, asshole."
He glanced at me through the corner of his eye. "You feel good when your curse at me, don't you? Your dad would have a fit if he knew about your potty mouth," he chuckled, and the deep rumble of his laugh made my spine tingle, and not in a bad way. "What other names have you called me behind my back?"
"Jackass. Dipshit. Fucker. Asshat. Jerk-face—just to name a few."
"Amusing." By his tone, I figured he'd found it anything but. "You really know how to break a man's heart, Kandy Cane."
We were quiet again, only for a few seconds this time.
"I'm not mad about Kelly," I finally said. "It just caught me by surprise when she showed up. That's all," I admitted.
"Why did it catch you by surprise? Am I not allowed to date anyone?"
I avoided looking at him. Would it have been selfish to say he couldn't date while I had a raging crush on him? Probably so. "I can't tell you what to do."
"You can," he said, simply. Blatantly. "But it doesn't mean I'll listen."
"Exactly, so why should I even bother?"
He laughed. "Because you're Kandy Jennings. A feisty little shit who doesn't know how to hold her tongue."
I laughed at that, only a little. "Yeah, whatever." I ran the tip of my thumbnail over a cuticle. "She's not even your type."
"Oh yeah? And what is my type, exactly?"
I thought on it, chewing on my bottom lip. "I don't know, but it's not her. You seem too...harsh for her. She's all proper and prim and chipper and you're just...Quinton Cane. You need someone who can stand up to you when you're being illogical and unfair. After meeting Kelly, I highly doubt she's the kind of woman do to that."
"Harsh?" he repeated, seeming delighted. "You think I'm harsh?"
"I don't call you jackass for nothing."
He laughed, a smooth warm, rumble that made my body feel warm and gooey, despite the blazing heat outside. It always did that. "You make me laugh, little one." He made a right turn. "Try working for me. Then you'll see what harsh really is."
"Are you kidding? I would never work for you."
His eyes twinkled with amusement when he looked at me. "Never say never."
* * *
We spent an hour and a half at a seafood restaurant in the heart of Atlanta. Cane told me to get whatever I wanted, so I went with the lobster and clam chowder soup. He ordered lobster as well, but instead of shrimp, he got a baked sweet potato.
"There's something I wanted to ask you," Cane said after taking a sip of his water.
"What?” I asked, digging into my house salad.
"Your mom was telling me there’s a guy you've been texting. She said you've been very secretive about him and not giving up too many details." Cane quirked an eyebrow. "Who is this mystery boy?"
I laughed. Why did he even care? "I don't think that's any of your business!"
There was a guy, but it wasn't that serious with him. His name was Carl Ridley and he was a running back for my school. We would text here and there, kiss on the cheek when we saw one another in the hallways, but nothing more. His father was a pastor and his mom was the assistant pastor, so he refused to kiss on the lips until he actually loved a girl, but I didn't want love with him so I didn't mind it. He was nice and kind of funny.
"Does your dad know about him?" Cane asked.
"I doubt it. I'm sure he would have asked me more about him by now if he knew. I'm surprised Mom hasn't told him anything. She put me on birth control and everything because of it. I doubt I’d ever do anything with him though."
His eyes expanded a bit. "Birth control already? What the hell? That’s insane.”
“What’s so insane about it?” I laughed. “I’m a teenage female who’s way past the puberty stages. I should have gotten it long ago, don’t you think?”
He slightly shook his head. “It’s just crazy that you’re growing up so fast. I still remember when I first met you as the little girl with pigtails and rainbow socks, running away from me because you thought I was going to hurt you.”
I fought a smile. “Well, I’m not nine anymore.”
“I suppose not.” He shrugged. “Well, yeah, she told me about the guy you’re supposedly talking to when your dad wasn't around. She thinks I'm a good listener. Good at keeping secrets too." He sat back in his chair, smirking while focused on me.
"What?" I asked, suddenly nervous. I dropped my gaze to my plate, but still felt him looking at me.
"Just make sure he treats you right," he said after a brief silence. "Last thing any of us wants to see is you get hurt.”
I picked my head up and met his gaze. Our eyes locked and when they did, my tongue ran over my bottom lip. I wasn't sure if it was in my head, the way he stared at my mouth and hardly blinked, but it almost seemed like he couldn't pull his eyes away from me either.
In fact, he didn't look away until his cellphone rang on the table. I happened to catch a glance at it before he could pick it up, and Kelly's name was on the screen.
I sighed, shifting my ranch-dampened lettuce around in the bowl with my fork, pretending her name alone didn't bother me. Cane answered, trying to keep the conversation quiet. And when he said, "Yeah, I'll be there in an hour," my heart dropped to my stomach.
"Sorry about that," he murmured.
I shrugged like I didn't care. "It's okay. I have a lot of homework to get done tonight. You should probably get me home anyway."
He nodded. "Sure. Let me get the bill."
After Cane paid, we were out of the restaurant in a heartbeat. He opened the car door for me again and I forced a smile up at him, sliding into the passenger seat and clipping my seatbelt.
What was my deal? I couldn't believe I was so upset about this. Kelly was his girlfriend and I was his best friend's daughter. He didn't see it any other way—couldn't see it any ot
her way, so how could I?
Cane finally got behind the wheel, started the engine, and drove away from the restaurant. "Did you like that place?" he asked.
"Yeah. It was pretty good," I said with another small smile.
"Good. I'll have to take you to this other spot on the beach. Not seafood, but they have amazing soul food." He turned the radio on, most likely to avoid the awkward silence, and when a song by OneRepublic came on, I settled in my seat, putting my feet up on the dashboard. I had to loosen up—pretend I didn't care too much. This was Cane, the only person other than Frankie who allowed me to be myself around him.
I never felt judged around Cane or like I couldn't be myself. I knew I could get away with things with him, that I would never be able to get away with when it came to my parents. Mom was right about Cane, in the fact that he could keep a secret and he was a good listener.
I didn't want things to become awkward. It was my first time being alone with him and I couldn't blow it, so I teased and said, "Hope you don't mind me kicking my feet up in your fancy car."
He chuckled and his eyes softened like he was glad I wasn't making things too weird. "Get any dirt up there and you'll never set foot in my car again, Bits."
I laughed, collecting my hair in hand and placing it all over one shoulder. When he stopped at a stoplight, he looked at me briefly before sighing.
"I wasn't kidding about what I said earlier," he said softly. "Make sure the guy you're talking to treats you right, Kandy. I'd hate to have to come after anyone who breaks your heart."
"That's what Dad is for," I teased with a giggle. "I'm sure he'd go after the guy in a heartbeat."
He smiled a little but it quickly slipped away. "Not if he doesn't know about him. From what I gathered, your mom doesn't plan on telling your dad about the guy until you decide to bring him up."
I shrugged. "He's a good person, Cane. He's nice and he doesn't force things. He's different."
"Yeah," he scoffed, foot pressing on the gas pedal when the light turned green. "That's probably what he wants you to think. He's a teenage boy, and I know what all teenage boys think about."
I broke out in laughter. "Just for that, maybe I'll make him my boyfriend. That will really bug you, huh?"
He side-eyed me with furrowed brows. "You don't need a boyfriend," was all he said, but I could tell he wanted to say more.
"He won't be my boyfriend. Don't worry. Just like Kelly isn't your type, he's not my type either. Maybe it's just a phase for both of us."
"Yeah," he fought a grin. "I never said she wasn't my type. Now you're just putting words in my mouth."
* * *
It didn't take long for us to get home. He parked in the driveway and Mom's car was already there.
"Would walk you in but I have to get across town for dinner," he said. "Want to beat the traffic before it piles up."
"I understand. Hanging with Kelly." It was a statement, not a question. "At her place?"
He nodded.
"Oh, okay. Cool." I pushed the door open when he unlocked it and he popped the trunk before stepping out of the car too. He took my backpack out and handed it to me, smiling when I strapped it over one shoulder.
"Tell your mom I said hello."
"I will," I murmured.
He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder before I could get away. "I'm only a phone call away if you ever need me, little one. Just know you can talk to me whenever you need to."
"I'll pass," I joked, and a faint smile graced his lips. I turned my back to him and walked away before he could notice how bothered I truly was. "Thanks for the late lunch," I called over my shoulder. "It was awesome."
"Anytime, Kandy Cane."
He said that silly nickname again, only this time, I didn't just feel the tingle in the pit of my belly. I felt it between my thighs, on my bare neck, and on my full lips. I felt it everywhere I shouldn't have.
I reached the door and watched Cane drive away. I watched until I could no longer see him and then I went inside.
Mom was on a call in the kitchen, so I kissed her cheek as she patted my head, and then I went up to my room, shutting the door behind me, tossing my bag on the recliner, and flopping facedown on my bed.
I thought about Cane and Kelly—how he would greet her when he walked through her door. How he would probably kiss her, so passionately her toes would curl in her tall stilettos. How they would eat or drink or something and he'd tell her it was a great meal. They'd hold hands and chat for a while, and then afterwards, they'd fuck on the table or in her kitchen.
Thinking about it made my heart ache in indescribable ways. And before I could process what I was feeling, I realized I was crying. I cried softly, for less than five minutes, and then I rolled over and stared at the ceiling, realizing I didn't just have a crush on Mr. Cane anymore.
I had fallen hard for him, and it hurt so much to want a man I couldn't have.
FOUR
KANDY
Despite my feelings for him, I couldn’t forget to appreciate Cane for all he did for my parents and me.
I loved the little trips he would plan. Well, I think he’d planned them. He had an assistant he talked about often, who he mentioned maintained his scheduled and booked his personal massages every Thursday. I remembered because I’d always wanted to get a personal massage myself.
It was a warm, spring day of May when Mr. Cane showed up at our house. I was sitting on the stool at the kitchen island, talking to Mom about how tough softball practice was. I didn’t hear a knock, just saw Cane coming into the kitchen with two Atlanta Braves baseball caps in hand.
I immediately stopped my blabbering when his throat cleared, peering over my shoulder to find him. He wore a half-smile, his eyes sparkling from the sunlight that was bouncing off the marble counters.
My heart sped up full-throttle, my throat thick and tight.
Mom greeted him, and he gave her a hug. Around the corner came Dad, who was wearing jeans and an Atlanta Braves T-shirt, along with a baseball cap.
“Come on, kid. Get dressed.” Dad met up to me, clapping my shoulder. “Cane booked a private booth for the Atlanta Braves game tonight for his employees. Said there’s room for us to join too. Your mom has to work and we all know you’d rather spend time alone, but what do you say? Wanna come hang out with us and watch the game?”
In that moment, I could have squealed until the glass shattered. Of course, I wanted to go! Mr. Cane was going to be there, and in a private booth? I had always wondered what it was like in a private booth, so being in one with him was going to make it the best night ever.
But I played it cool. “Sure. I’m not doing much else tonight. A private booth sounds fun.”
“Good.” Cane took a step forward and tossed one of the hats my way. “Bought this for you. You don’t have to wear it. Just figured you’d like it.” He smiled and shrugged as I held the hat to my chest.
“I’ll consider it,” I teased, but deep inside I was beaming like a ray of sunshine. I headed upstairs as Dad started talking about the game and the rival team. That would spare me a good twenty minutes.
I washed up quickly and changed into a pair of jean shorts and a white shirt. I looked at the hat on the bed that Cane had just given to me. I wasn’t a huge hat person. The only time I’d worn them was for softball practice or games and I hated them because they made my head hot and my hair would always get tangled and matted.
But this, like the notebooks, pens, and chocolates, was a gift. And, whether he knew it or not, I cherished his gifts. So I brushed my hair until it was smooth and put on the hat.
When I went downstairs, Dad and Mr. Cane were standing by the door waiting. Mr. Cane saw me first and his eyes lit up, like he couldn’t believe I’d actually worn it.
“Wow. I’m surprised you didn’t trash it,” he laughed. I blushed and tried to hide it. “You all set?”
“Yep. I’m all good.” I met up with Dad who was already. “Let’s get out of here. Love you, M
om!” I shouted toward the kitchen.
“Love you, honey! Have fun!”
We were in Mr. Cane’s Chrysler and on the way to the game in no time.
The traffic was madness, dimming my patience by the second, but Mr. Cane had an assigned parking spot, so that was a bonus. We didn’t have to walk a mile just to reach the stadium. With a few steps, we were in an elevator and going up.
Dad talked the most. He loved baseball games—well, let me rephrase that. He loved any sport, really. He was a die-hard sports fanatic. If there was a game on of any kind, he knew all about it and would talk about it for hours. Even tennis. He loved it all.
The private booth was a dream. Spacious and equipped with nice chairs and cocktail tables.
It was interesting meeting the people that worked for Cane. They smiled at him so much and were so eager to shake his hand and thank him for access to the private booth, that it was awe-worthy. I could tell they hardly got the chance to see him, and now that they had it, they weren’t going to pass it up.
I enjoyed watching him interact with his employees. It gave me even more reason to fall in love with that man. He laughed and showed sympathy. He offered them drinks and food and didn’t mind hugging or patting them on the back. He was far from stuck-up or rude. He was the kind of boss an employee wished for. Understanding, compassionate, dedicated, and easy to talk to.
Oh, and I can’t forget to mention his charisma. His personality was one made of gold, but sometimes I wondered if it exhausted him, having to be on top of things all the time. Having to stay uplifted and motivated and happy, just so everyone else in the room was too. That kind of charisma and power over another seemed absolutely draining.
While Mr. Cane mingled and chatted, I sat with Dad on the front row, right in front of the window. We watched the game together for the most part. Dad made bets with me, and told me who was the best and who needed work.
“Watch him,” Dad said. “The batter. They have to keep a close eye on him. He has a strong arm on him and he’s as fast as lightning, I swear. He’s had three home runs already and the season just started three weeks ago. Isn’t that crazy?”
Dirty Little Quickies Page 35
