Cade Parkinson preferred his life in black and white. And when a spoiled heiress barged in and started spreading colors to it, he didn't like it one bit. He doesn't want anything to do with her. Even with his efforts of fending her off, she seems to...
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Surprise, Surprise, Surprise! A lot of you have been requesting for bonus chapters, so here it is. I want to thank every single one of you for reading. Sweet As You has reached over 600k reads! I'm so happy. I love you guys so much!
Anyways, I can't say how many years has past for Cadey and Kathie in this chapter. If you've been reading some of my stories, you'll find that I'm vague about the numbers (ages, time, who's older whom). I don't like numbers. I just love TS songs and will continue to be inspired by them. lol.
Don't forget to vote, comment, share the story, and follow me on Inta. 😊
The neighborhood sleeps soundly as he drives by. Finally, he's on his way home. Although he hates that it's almost midnight, he can't help but feel happy that his crappy day is now trailing behind him.
They lost a few clients today. His dad was furious. He was pissed. Again, crappy day.
He parked his car and walked up to the front door, digging for his keys in his pockets. The door swung open unexpectedly.
Kathie let out a delighted squeal and threw her arms around him. "I made something for you."
She puts him at arm's length as if assessing every inch of him. She runs a finger across his cheek, leaning for a peck between his brows. "Not a great day, huh?"
Suddenly, his shitty day didn't matter.
His wife has still reserved a bright-as-day sweetest smile in midnight. Just for him.
He was home.
Her brown eyes found his. "You okay, Cadey?"
"Now, I am," he answers honestly.
She giggled. "Okay. Can you pretend that you're not okay though?"
He chuckled. "Okay. Why?"
"Because I have just the thing to cheer you up. Come on." She tugs at his sleeve.
Cade closes the door behind him, letting his wife guide him to the kitchen. "You didn't have to wait up for me."
He says it every other night he comes home really late. And, just like every other night, Kathie shrugs and says, "I couldn't sleep."
"Okay. Sit." She gently pushes him down a bar stool. She walks around the kitchen, grabbing plates and utensils and laying them delicately in front of him.
"Remember the strawberry tart recipe that I got from your mom?"
His brows crinkled. "Yeah."
"I think I finally perfected it," she says in a sing-song voice.
He smiled. "Really?"
His heart fluttered not because of the sound of his favorite childhood treats. It's because Kathie knew what it meant to him.
