“I think we’re good,” Max drawled, stroking Kari’s bare thigh.
My spirits in limbo, I stalked into the house and considered turning on a movie—something violent and gory. Something where the asshole gets what he has coming.
As I entered the kitchen, the doorbell rang.
I had struggled over whether to be there when Cane arrived. If Ileft, Cane would think he got to me, and enough was enough. He needed to be put on notice that I was done being messed with. But that didn’t mean I actually wanted to deal with him.
Pretending that I didn’t hear the doorbell, I started across the living room in the opposite direction of the entry. It rang again, and I caught Max’s eye through the window. He smirked as our eyes met, obviously having heard Cane’s arrival and clearly reading my intentions.
I sighed as I flipped him the bird, my gig obviously up, and turned on my heel. I could hear Max laughing, and that only irritated me more.
I jerked open the door. Cane was standing on the other side, looking delicious in a pair of dark denim jeans and a white T-shirt, his sunglasses tucked into the top of his shirt. He smelled woodsy and musky, the scent making me shiver.
He’s like looking at a famous painting in a museum. He’s made to visually appreciate, but there’s no way I can afford to take him home.
“Are you going to invite me in?” He flashed me a grin that was undoubtedly his most seductive, but I held tight and shook my head instead of swooning.
“Do I have a choice?” I asked dully.
“Do you ever? I think we’ve been in this situation a time or two.”
“Whatever, Cane.” I left the door open and walked back into the kitchen. I heard it shut as I rustled through the pantry, looking for the rum Kari had put away. I knew mixing wine and rum would result in a hot mess of a morning, but I needed something stronger than moscato to make it through the night.
Maybe I should just go for whiskey.
“What did you do today?” he asked, clearly leading me, his voice growing closer.
“Nothing much.”
“Really? Nothing interesting happened today?”
“Nope.”
“You want to do it this way? Okay, fair enough. I’ll cut to the chase. What’s this I hear about you having dinner with Powers?”
“Don’t,” I warned him.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t start. What I do and who I spend my time with is no business of yours.” I turned my back on him, not wanting him to see how tired I was. He could sense weakness like a lion.
“Jada,” Cane whispered, putting his hand on my hip. I froze, squeezing the bottle of rum I had just picked up so I wouldn’t drop it. He pressed the front of his body into the back of mine and swept the hair off the back of my neck. His fingers lightly brushed my sensitive skin, making my nerve endings rapid-fire in succession. “Itismy business.”
My pulse quickened and my body heated, responding to him without thought. “You’re wrong. It’s not.”
“I asked you very pointedly to stay away from him, and you agreed.”
I turned quickly to look him in the eye. “No. You asked me to call you before I took him to your properties. You don’t own the restaurant.”
“You’re missing the fucking point.”
“No, I think I get the fucking point better than you can imagine.”
He took a half step forward, grabbing the cabinet on either side of me. The proximity of his body to mine made it hard to breathe.
“I didn’t come over here to argue with you, beautiful girl.”
I took in a shaky breath. “Then why did you?”
