A Long Time Coming (Cane Brothers, #3)(11)

“I know, sorry. Fuck, Lia . . .” He blows out a heavy breath. “It’s just been a weird week. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. But hey, I should open my computer and get some work done before lunch.”

“Okay. I love you. I’ll see you later.”

“Love you, too,” I answer before hanging up and setting my phone on my desk. I stare at it for a moment, my mind racing.

Brian is right. I have been off. However, I was caught off guard.

I wasn’t expecting Brian to propose. We hadn’t even talked about it. It felt sort of out of the blue. He took me out on a boat for a sunset cruise, dropped down on one knee, and asked me to marry him. I said yes. It was a beautiful proposal.

The ring is huge.

Bigger than anything I would ever need in my life, and even though it’s stunning, it doesn’t feel right sitting on my finger. None of it feels right, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m struggling with my parents not being around for one of the most significant moments of my life or if I’m struggling because even though everything about the proposal was magical, it wasn’t quite me, or because I’m struggling to find the words to tell Breaker.

Ever since last year, he and Brian haven’t really gotten along. They’ve been cordial and friendly to each other when we’re all in the same room, but the friendship they used to have doesn’t quite exist anymore. And it’s Brian’s fault, yet he hasn’t taken the blame, and I refuse to insert myself in the middle. I tried once, and that exploded in my face because Brian was mad that I was defending Breaker.

But . . . Breaker didn’t do anything wrong.

Brian works in investments. He actually works with some very wealthy clients. One night, we were all having dinner together, and Brian was looking for some . . . information. He was trying to get some clues as to what was happening with some stocks Breaker and his brothers owned. Valuable shares in renewable energy. It was all sort of . . . skeezy the way Brian went about it, crossing the lines of insider trading. And when Breaker didn’t break and hand over the information Brian was looking for, Brian got angry. It blew up from there.

I’ve tried my best to mull it over, but Brian is a prideful man, descending from a family of wealth. He’s held to a very high standard by his parents. If he’s not climbing the ladder, then he’s not worth his parents’ time. I think he was trying to land some big scores for his clients to benefit them and prove to his parents he has value.

I could not imagine living a life where you have to prove yourself to your parents day in and day out because their love is conditional at best.

Either way, they don’t get along well, and I just don’t know what Breaker is going to say when I tell him. I’m not sure if he’ll be happy, upset . . . if he tries to talk me out of it, I have no clue. And that’s mainly because we haven’t spoken about Brian much. We kind of just . . . forget that he’s a thing in my life whenever we hang out. It’s better that way.

But now . . . now I don’t know what the hell we’re going to do.

My phone chirps with a text, and I glance down to read it.

Breaker: Cronuts coming your way. I have a meeting with our lawyer this morning, or else I’d join you.

Smiling, I text him back.

Lia: Cronuts for what?

Breaker: For ruining our night last night. I tried to pull it together, but I couldn’t quite get there. Sorry, Lia.

Lia: No need to apologize. What are friends for? Can I get a rain check, though? These glass dice are calling my name.

Breaker: What do you have going on tonight? I’m free.

I give it some thought. Technically, I should probably go hang out with Brian tonight, but I’ll see him at lunch, and he does want me to tell Breaker, so maybe tonight would be a good idea.

Lia: Bring tacos. See you tonight.

Breaker: You know if I bring tacos, they’ll be the pickle-flavored ones.

Lia: Uh, yeah, that’s what I expect from you.

Breaker: I’ve broken you in.

Lia: Like a comfy pair of jeans.

I set my phone back down and smile to myself. As it always has been, texting Breaker—hanging out with Breaker—is so damn easy. And he gets that I need cronuts.

Okay, time to get some work done.





I hate the dress I’m wearing.

Absolutely hate it.

Brian got it for me maybe a month ago. He told me we were going out for some fun, and he took me shopping. Wanted to celebrate a check he’d just received by buying me some new dresses.

For one, I’m not a huge fan of dresses, especially dresses that conform to every inch of my body, leaving very little room to breathe or walk in. Also, this dress has flowers all over it, and I’m not against flowers, it’s just . . . these are little flowers, and it reminds me of something a teenager from the nineties would wear. And thirdly, it’s short. By God, is it short. The wind blows right up the bottom, giving me Marilyn Monroe vibes with every step.

But Brian bought it for me and asked if I would wear it, so here I am.

“Lia, wow,” Brian says as he walks up from behind. “You look stunning.”

I turn just in time for him to pull me into a hug, his hand falling to my lower back as he squeezes me.

His signature cologne—fresh and woodsy—surrounds me first, followed by his tight grip, and then the subtle hint of his lips pressed against my cheek.