Page 24 of Falling for the Billionaire Best Man

10

KAISEN

Ididn’t sleep much last night. And I wasn’t willing to admit what I did in the shower this morning, but let’s just say the memory of Dorie licking icing off her finger had been burned into my brain. I had tossed and turned all night with one unfulfilled erotic dream after another. This morning in the shower, I had to give myself some relief. My balls had been too tight. Too tender.

And after seeing her in those fucking shorts, I was going to have a hard time keeping my hands above the belt. I needed to chill the hell out and keep my mind off the image of her in those shorts. I was not some hormonal teenager. I was a grown man with a billion-dollar empire to run.

I chalked this sudden, undying lust up to being out of my routine. My life was structured, regimented, and predictable. Back in New York, there would be plenty of opportunity for me to find a woman to handle my needs. Out here, I was on my own. I was sure I might be able to find a willing partner, but I wouldn’t know where to look. And I already knew it wasn’t just anyone I was looking to hook up with.

The woman had me twisted up. Look at me. Look at what I was doing. Early morning coffee with a woman who seemed to have no interest in my money or status? This was not normal for me. And yet, here I was, trying to act like I wasn’t completely thrown off by her.

When Dorie answered the door in pajama shorts and a tank top, her hair a mess of curls, I had to count “one potato, two potato” to keep my dick down. It took all my self-control to keep my eyes on her face. She looked adorable. That kind of fresh-out-of-bed look that made me think about what it would have been like to be in that bed with her.

And I hated that I think that.

The broken coffeemaker was my chance to insert myself into her world for a short time.

“Take a right up here,” she said.

The shop was at the base of a waterfront shop. It appeared to be the only shop open. I had looked for something open on my way to her place and found nothing. I myself had a moment of panic that I might not be able to get my usual drink.

At the coffee shop, I held the door open for her. “I suppose you like to order something ridiculous like a birthday cake latte with sprinkles.”

“Would it matter?” she asked. “Coffee is coffee.”

“Not if it’s loaded with crap that makes it taste like a birthday cake.”

We walked up to the counter. “Triple shot americano,” she said.

I looked at her with a grin. That was not what I expected. “Vanilla latte,” I ordered. “Biggest you’ve got.”

“Whipped?” the young woman asked.

“Please.”

Dorie looked up at me and smirked. She was clearly enjoying the fact that I was the one with the sweet tooth.

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask for sprinkles,” she quipped.

I chuckled, leaning against the counter. “Sprinkles are for cupcakes, not coffee.”

She raised an eyebrow, a small smile on her lips. “Sometimes.”

The barista handed us our drinks. I took a sip of my latte, hoping it wasn’t too strong or too weak. The rich vanilla flavor hit the spot. Dorie’s americano smelled strong enough to wake the dead. I couldn’t help but admire her choice. She wasn’t one to sugarcoat things—literally or figuratively.

We headed back to the car, the caffeine already hitting. I took a couple minutes to suck down more of the drink. Dorie was hitting hers pretty hard.

“Should I go in and order another one for you?” I joked.

“Nope. Coffee. Coke. Water. Coffee. Coke. Water.”

“What the hell is that?”

“That’s the way I keep my caffeine levels at an even keel,” she said.

I chuckled. “Noted. I imagine your early mornings require a lot of caffeine.”

“Early mornings, late nights, and everything in between,” she said with a hint of amusement. “When you’re running a bakery, there’s no such thing as a normal sleep schedule.”