Page 5 of Falling for the Billionaire Best Man

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DORIE

Iwasn’t thrilled. Not even a little. The man who had so rudely barreled into me this morning was now in my shop. I had seen him but convinced myself it couldn’t possibly be the same guy. And then when I brought out the next tray of cookies and saw him standing there with his arms crossed over his broad chest, looking like he’d just stepped out of a Ralph Lauren ad, I knew it was him. That same scowl on his face I saw when he stood over me a few hours before.

His designer button-down shirt was freshly pressed, of course. His cologne—something expensive and woodsy—mingled with the sugary air of the bakery and made me feel a little woozy. I wasn’t sure if it was the scent or the way he was looking at me, like I was some kind of inconvenience he had to deal with, but I was definitely feeling too warm, too worked up.

I didn’t like the man.

I couldn’t explain why, but I didn’t. He was a jerk. First impressions meant a lot and he had left a shitty first impression. Rude. Obnoxious. Arrogant.

Hot. Gorgeous. Sexy.

I was doing my best to try and keep my composure. The kitchen was my sanctuary, my domain, and having him there felt like an invasion. He was too big. Too attractive. Too masculine. It was making me feel off-kilter, like the world had slightly tilted and I couldn’t find my footing. I hated it.

I forced myself to focus. This was about Eliza’s wedding, not my irritation—or whatever else I was feeling—toward Kaisen. This was for my sister and Cullen, and I wasn’t about to let my personal feelings get in the way of making their wedding perfect.

“Cullen’s groom cake,” I said, forcing myself to deal with him. “I was told you’d have some ideas on flavors he might like.”

Kaisen blinked, his expression shifting from mild annoyance to outright confusion. “Wait, you don’t have anything prepared?”

I crossed my arms and shot him a dirty look. He wasn’t the only one irritated. I was the one that got mowed down. I was the one that deserved to be pissed. “No. I was told you’d be giving me direction. You know, since you’re his best man and all.”

He ran a hand through his dark hair, clearly frustrated. “I don’t know. Vanilla? Chocolate? What do people usually get?”

I stared at him, incredulous. “This isn’t just some cake, Kaisen. It’s Cullen’s groom cake. It’s a big deal. It’s supposed to reflect his personality, his tastes. It’s not something you just slap together with whatever is lying around.”

He shrugged, his indifference grating on my nerves. “Well, I don’t know what Cullen likes. I’m not his personal chef.”

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my temper in check. “Okay, let’s start over. What does Cullen like? Hobbies, interests, favorite foods? Anything.”

“Why in the hell do his hobbies and interests matter?”

Of course he didn’t get it. He probably thought wedding planning was all about showing up and looking good in a suit and looking for a single woman to hook up with.

“Because,” I said, my patience thin, “a groom cake is personal. It’s not just dessert—it’s a statement. It’s supposed to tell a story about Cullen. Something that represents him. So, if you want this to be special, you’re going to have to give me something to work with. I don’t know him well enough. That’s your job.”

Kaisen thought for a moment, then shrugged again. “He likes sports. And whiskey. And… I don’t know, steak?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Great. That’s really helpful.”

He smirked, clearly enjoying my frustration. “Look, I’m not a baker. I don’t know how this works. I don’t know shit about weddings. Cakes. Any of it. You’re the expert, right? So figure it out.”

I wanted to strangle him. Instead, I took another deep breath and decided to change tactics. “Fine. Let’s talk about the wedding. How involved have you been so far? That will give me a hint about what Cullen might like. I’ve been working with Eliza and could pick a cake for her with my eyes closed.”

He leaned against the counter, his arms still crossed. “Not very. I’ve got a business to run. I don’t have time to plan parties.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Parties? This is your best friend’s wedding. It’s kind of a big deal.”

He shrugged. “It’s just a wedding. People get married every day.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You’re kidding, right? This is a once in a lifetime event. It’s about love, commitment, celebrating the start of a new chapter in their lives. How can you be so… so unromantic?”

He looked at me, his hazel eyes narrowing. “Romance is overrated. Love is just a chemical reaction in the brain. It doesn’t last.”

I stared at him, stunned. “Wow. Someone obviously hurt you.”

He flinched, just barely, but it was enough for me to notice. “It’s not about me. I just think it’s stupid. If you’re really dumb enough to sign your life away to another person forever, regardless of how much they could hurt you, how much they could take from you, then just go to a courthouse. Why waste all this time and money on a party?”