A Long Time Coming (Cane Brothers, #3)(15)

“Love you.”

“Love you.” I wave, and Brian takes off toward the elevator, where he presses the down button and sticks his hand in his pocket.

When he’s firmly in the elevator, I turn to Breaker, who has his eyebrow raised. “Are you moving to New York?” he asks.

“What?” I nearly shout. “No!” I shake my head. “No. I don’t know what he was talking about.”

“Are you sure? Because you’re looking sort of fidgety right now.”

That’s because I’m trying to hide the giant ice rink on my finger.

“I’m sure. I think that was just some offhand comment. We’re not moving.” I turn toward my door, unlock it, and then let us both in.

“Okay, because that would not settle well with me. I mean, I would make the move, but I like it here on the West Coast.”

“I do too.”

He sets the food down on my kitchen counter and pulls out the to-go boxes while I set my things down. “You look nice, by the way.” I feel his eyes on me, and I want to slither away in this dress.

“The dress is not me. Too short.”

“It might not be you, but it still looks good. What was the occasion?”

I face him and place my hands behind my back. “Uh, lunch with The Beave.”

We came up with the nickname after my first interaction with her. I’m careful when I use it because I don’t want to accidentally address Brian’s mother as The Beave in front of him. I’m pretty sure that would earn me a hefty scowl, a long lecture, and copious apologies. The man loves his mother. Nothing wrong with that. You just have to be conscious of what not to do.

“Ah . . . at the club?” Breaker asks in a snooty voice while raising his pinky.

Breaker is a billionaire. He has more than enough money to put the Beavers to shame, yet he doesn’t act like he has money. Sure, he might wear the most perfectly tailored suits with the richest fabric, his watches are more like expensive jewelry, and his haircuts cost way more than they should, but he lives modestly in an apartment next to mine because this is what I can afford. He could live in the Flats with his brothers. He could have a beach house out in Malibu, and he could even have a penthouse downtown, but he chose to live here.

“Yes, at the club.”

“Get the salmon salad again?”

“Yes, and it was as dreadful as the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth time I’ve had it.”

He chuckles lightly. “Next time, excuse yourself after you order and tell the waitstaff to bring you a burger instead.”

I clutch my chest in horror. “And risk the waitstaff being snapped at? No, thank you. I’d rather suffer through the salmon.”

“You’re a real Joan of Arc, you know that?”

“I try. Okay, I’m going to change real quick because I can’t sit comfortably in this without flashing you my underwear.”

“Not that I haven’t been flashed countless times before.”

“By accident! You make me sound like a philandering woman.”

“Halloween, five years ago, you wore that maid outfit. I think I saw your underwear more times that night than all the years we’ve known each other.”

“Uh, excuse me, sir. I wore that maid outfit because I lost a bet to you, and that’s what you chose. If it was my choice, I would have gone as a piece of toast with melted butter. You know how much I love dressing up as food.”

“Yeah, but the maid costume was more fun.”

“For you . . . you pervert.”

He rolls his eyes dramatically. “For the last time, it wasn’t because I was being pervy. It was because I knew you would hate it.”

“Wow, you’re such a great best friend.”

He smiles broadly. “I know.”

Chuckling, I go to my bedroom, where I quickly strip out of the dress and the heels and trade them out for fluffy black slippers, a pair of cotton shorts, and a murder mystery shirt. I toss my hair up in a bun, then stare down at my engagement ring. Should I wear it out there, or should I tell him first?

I nibble on my bottom lip as I try to figure it out. Five weeks, that’s so quick. Like lightning-fast quick, and sure, of course I want to marry Brian, I love him, but five weeks? I’m barely able to wrap my head around the fact I’m getting married.

I tug on the ring and pull it off my finger. I think it’s best that I don’t go rushing into the kitchen with the ring but rather ease the idea into conversation.

I set my ring on the dresser, then walk back into the kitchen, where Breaker has set up two place settings on the table with drinks and lots of napkins. We’re going to need them.

The tacos Breaker gets are from a local food truck around the corner. They make tacos de birria, and they are so good that I would probably get them every night if I didn’t have self-control. But because they come with a dipping sauce that the meat was cooked in, we need tons of napkins because things get messy.

“Ugh, they smell so good.”

“Yeah, they do, so hurry your ass on over here so I can dig in.”

I take a seat across from him. “You could have started without me.”

“You know I never do. If anything, I’m a gentleman and will always wait.”

“You didn’t wait two months ago when I brought over cheesecake.”