Wanting Mr. Cane (Cane 1)

As Gambino sang about staying woke, I made my way around the corner, the funkadelic voice getting nearer. The kitchen was occupied, much to my surprise. A man in a white chef jacket and black pants was standing in front of the island. The countertop was covered in foods like muffins, thick strips of bacon, eggs, pancakes, sliced fruit, and coffee. His hair was a deep shade of gray, his face chubby and rosy.

He spotted me and smiled. “Oh. Good morning,” he greeted, and then he stepped back, grabbing some glasses from the cupboard and placing them on the countertop too. The man dusted off his hands, walked to the open door, said something, and then turned around, coming my way. “Enjoy.”

I watched him go then swept my gaze over the food before making my way toward the drawn double doors that led out to a deck overlooking the lake. Soft gusts of wind made the white curtains billow, some of it running over my skin and shifting the loose tendrils of my hair. I spotted the noise-maker—a Bluetooth music player built into the wall, along with speakers. When I made it to the door, I pressed my cheek on it and tried hard not to sigh.

There he is.

Cane was sitting in a cushioned chair, his legs spread slightly apart, and his cellphone in hand. He was staring at the lake, eyes narrowed, and I couldn’t blame him. The view from the deck was breathtaking, but very bright with the sunlight bouncing off the water.

A female’s voice was coming out of the phone and he was nodding repeatedly as she spoke. He wore a white T-shirt, but it did nothing to hide his chiseled body.

“That’s fine. As long as the percentage remains the same or increases, it should be okay until I get back.” As if he could feel someone watching him, he turned his head to the right and found me. His eyes appeared greener beneath the rays and sparkled as they ran over the length of me. Maybe I wasn’t imagining it last night. They were greener. Was Cane one of those people who had eyes that changed colors during certain temperatures or even certain moods? I’d learned about that in school. It was possible.

He picked up a white mug and brought it to his lips, his eyes trained on me as the woman on the phone continued her business chatter. There was a familiar hunger in his eyes, but also a deep adoration I’d never seen before. I blushed as he sipped.

“Is that acceptable, sir?” the voice went on.

“Perfectly fine, Cora,” he responded. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Sounds great, sir,” Cora said. “Enjoy your getaway.”

“Believe me,” Cane gestured with his hand for me to come to him. “I will.” He ended the call while watching me walk his way. My smile spread even wider, my heart racing. “Look at you,” he sighed. “Glowing.”

I bit back a grin, sitting on his lap. “I wonder why.”

“Oh, I know why.” He wrapped a hand around me, pulling me close. He smelled good. Fresh, like he’d showered again this morning. Cane was an early bird. I needed to make a mental note of that because I loathed mornings. The only reason I was up that morning was because I wanted more time with him. “You okay? I didn’t get too rough last night, did I?”

“No.” I shook my head, lacing my arms around his neck. “Not at all. It was perfect, Cane.”

“Perfect?” He cocked a brow. “Sure that’s the word you wanna use?”

I giggled. “Yes, because it’s true. It was perfection.”

With a boyish smile, he asked, “You hungry?”

“I could use a hot meal.”

“Good.” He rubbed my back. “I had a local chef I know send one of his people to bring a few things from his restaurant. Go grab something to eat.”

I nodded, pushing off his lap and going into the kitchen. I grabbed one of the plates and topped it with pancakes, apples, and bacon. After pouring myself a mug of coffee and tucking the bottle of warm syrup beneath my arm, I headed for the deck, taking the seat next to his.

“Is Cora the assistant you were talking about last night?” I asked, pouring syrup on my pancakes.

“No, Cora is my secretary. My assistant’s name is Deon. He’s good at his job.”

“Cora knows about your little getaway?” I asked with a smirk.

“I told her before I left that I would be here for a few days. Told her I needed some time to think.”

“Ah.” I bit off a piece of the apple slice.

“Wasn’t a lie. There are a lot of things to think about.” He put his hand on top of mine, and I stopped eating, dragging my gaze up to his. I noticed there weren’t any hard lines around his eyes, per usual. His eyes were softer than I’d ever seen them before. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning, Kandy. How the hell are we going to keep doing this?”