Page 23 of Falling for the Billionaire Best Man

He smirked. “You’re grumpy in the morning.”

I scowled at him. “I’m not grumpy. I’m coffee deprived.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “First time I met you, you had that same scowl on your face.”

“Because you had just steamrolled me! Who wouldn’t be a little pissed about getting hit by two-hundred pounds of muscle at a running speed!”

His smirk told me he took my comment as a compliment. This was why I was not fit for conversation with a human at the moment. I needed a fucking coffee.

I brushed past him, heading for the door, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm. “I’ll drive,” he said. “The amount of check engine lights on your dashboard is concerning. I wasn’t about to get in that death trap.”

“Where is my car?”

“My place. I drove my rental.”

I rolled my eyes. “My car is just fine.”

“You do know those lights aren’t supposed to be on?”

I was so not in the mood for him. “I need to get my oil changed. And the other one is always on. It’s not a big deal.”

“Be that as it may, I drove here. We’ll get you some coffee and you can show me where a grocery store is. Then you can pick up your car.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the thought of coffee won out. “Fine,” I muttered.

We climbed into the car, and I found myself at Kaisen Seely’s mercy in the name of caffeine. He drove with the kind of confidence that came from being used to getting his way, his hands resting lightly on the wheel as he navigated the quiet streets of Cape May. Other people were still in bed on Saturday morning. I stared out the window, trying to ignore the way his presence seemed to fill the car. He was just so manly. So alpha. Of course he had to be attractive. I hated that it was so effortless for him. I was hanging on by a thread and he was all calm, cool, and sexy.

It wasn’t fair.