A Long Time Coming (Cane Brothers, #3)(68)

“That’s one of your favorites? Wow, you really need to reconsider your memories.”

He turns toward me, and I get a whiff of his cologne—fresh and bright—which makes me want to sink my nose into his chest. “If we’re talking favorite memories, I think yesterday a core one hit me hard in the chest. Wasn’t expecting it.”

His voice grows serious, so I know what he’s about to say is not a joke. “What was it?” I ask.

His eyes lift, and he says, “Seeing you in that wedding dress. You seriously took my breath away, Lia.”

My cheeks heat as I bring my coffee cup to my lips. “Thank you.” And then, because the moment is so serious, I say, “Do you know what my favorite memory of you is?”

“The time I misspelled pickle while playing Scrabble so you could forever have a nickname for me?”

I chuckle. “No, but that’s up there.” I push a strand of hair out of my face. “The day you graduated. I can still see the exuberant hug you gave your brothers while you were in your cap and gown. It was so beautiful to see brothers that connected to each other, that supportive. It made me love you that much more.”

He smiles. “I’ve been very lucky in the brother department, even though they can be pains and they ditch me for their wives now.”

“Can you blame them? Have you seen their wives?”

He laughs. “Yeah, I have, and the fact that they got married so close together doesn’t really help me because they’re both still honeymooning.”

“I’m pretty sure they’ll be honeymooning for a while.”

He drags his hand over his scruffy jaw. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to be doing the honeymooning pretty quickly as well.”

I shrug. “Probably not as long. Brian is not that obsessed with me. I’m guessing he’ll be the guy who brings work on his honeymoon.” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. When I glance at Breaker, his brow is furrowed, and I can tell he wants to say something. “Who knows, though,” I continue. “He can be very attentive at times.”

Breaker stands from the bed and stretches his arms over his head, revealing a patch of skin right above the waistband of his shorts. “If it were me, I’d spend a great deal of time honeymooning.” His eyes connect with mine. “No way would I let you out of my sight.” My cheeks flame, and he quickly realizes what he said so he adjusts. “I mean, my girl. No way would I let my girl out of my sight.”

And I believe that to the fullest.

There was only one time I ever heard Breaker have sex, and he must have forgotten I was home, but I can still remember like it was yesterday. The girl wasn’t obnoxious at all. She actually sounded sweet—if that isn’t weird to say—but it was Breaker’s dirty mouth that I can still hear, deep and sultry, telling her how he was going to fuck her and for how long. It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard, completely unexpected, and it took me a day or two to be able to look at him normally again.

If he was honeymooning, I have no doubt that he would be rabid about it, even though he gives off nice-guy vibes. He gets along with just about everyone. He is possessive, protective, charming, just like his brothers. No word of a lie. I have envied Lottie and Kelsey a few times. Brian always seems happy to see me, but he’s never particularly . . . ravenous. There have been times I’ve felt more appreciated, like a fine wine rather than defiled. And I know Lottie and Kelsey have been defiled many, many times by their Cane husbands. And Breaker would be no exception.

“Well, your girl would be very lucky,” I say, trying to break the tension that immediately filled the room. “I just don’t think Brian is that kind of guy. We barely have sex now as it is.”

That makes Breaker pause and then slowly turn to me. “What?” he asks.

Oh crap.

“Uh, I don’t know why I said that,” I say awkwardly.

“Is it true?”

I can’t look him in the eyes when I answer, “Brian just has a lot going on, and I have to respect that.”

“Fuck that,” Breaker says, growing angry. “He should be fucking you every chance he gets. He should appreciate the fact that he gets to be with you. That he gets to pleasure you. It shouldn’t even be a question about whether or not you’re fucking at night. He should want you every goddamn second of every goddamn hour. And if he’s not pleasuring you the way he should, then that’s something you need to discuss.”

“He’s been tired, Breaker.”

“That’s no goddamn excuse.” He pushes away from the bed and grips his hair. “Fuck, if you were my fiancée, my wife, I’d never let you leave the bedroom. Your voice would be hoarse from every fucking orgasm I gave you.”

Once again, my cheeks flame and my stomach twists with uncertainty, heat, and this weird, bubbly, airless feeling as I stare up at him. And when his eyes meet mine, I wait for him to change his wording again, but he doesn’t.

“Anyway . . .” He blows out a heavy breath. “I should get going. Feel free to stay as long as you want.”

“Okay,” I answer awkwardly. “Have fun on your hike.”

“Thanks.” He makes it to his bedroom door and then glances over his shoulder. “Can’t wait to see what you do today. Love you, Lia.”