Never Plan a Billionaire’s Wedding
Carolina was introducing him to his former fiancée.
Fine. Near fiancée. It had been a promise ring, not an engagement diamond, but still.
The run he’d just finished was apparently unnecessary from a cardio standpoint, since his heart was now racing, crashing into his ribs as if it were fleeing a crime scene. Not that he was the bad guy. But still.
Kari. No way.
It was his Kari. And okay, maybe she was never formally his fiancée, but until college and distance broke them up, they always planned on it. He’d given her a promise ring in high school, so that was close enough.
When Carolina had mentioned she was meeting two wedding professionals named Katie and Carrie, he’d heard it as the more familiar spelling. She’d never spelled it out, and she hadn’t bothered to tell him Kari‘s last name.
“Caleb, have you swallowed your tongue along with your manners? Shake the poor woman’s hand, for goodness sake!” Carolina crooned, giving him side-eye while managing a puzzled smile at Kari as the two stood awkwardly in front of each other, gaping.
Kari had changed in some ways, for sure, but it was her, alright. Her brown hair was a darker shade but still thick and shiny, framed in soft layers around her face, brushing the edges of straight, strong shoulders. He recognized those whiskey brown eyes, deceptively sleepy unless you knew her, knew that behind them, her brain was working constantly at warp speed.
She was taller now–or anyway, she didn’t wear four-inch heels back then–so instead of having to bend to kiss her lips, he could just dip his head.
If he wanted to kiss her.
If wanting to kiss her wasn’t the only thing he could think about.