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A Long Time Coming (Cane Brothers, #3)(37)

Author:Meghan Quinn

“Yes, but it’s for the sake of your mental health,” I reply. “Don’t try to please others just for the sake of it.”

“I know you’re right, Breaker. I know you are, but I just don’t have it in me to disappoint others. Brian is so sensitive. I think if I postponed, he’d think it had to do with him, and I don’t want him thinking that. I just need to take this one step at a time.”

“Okay, but just so you know, if you want to try to slow this down, you just let me know, and I’ll step in and help.”

“I know, and I love you for that. Just promise me you will be here every step of the way.”

“I promise.”

“Thank you.”

Chapter Six

LIA

“Well, it’s nice,” Breaker says as we step out of his car and stare up at the rather ornate and grand stone church right in front of us. On an almost vacant street in the heart of Los Angeles is a Catholic church with a tall spire reaching up into the sky and an arched entrance that feels more intimidating than welcoming.

I glance up at the grandiose building and say, “There are gargoyles on the edge of the roof. That doesn’t really scream wedding vibes.”

Breaker puts his arm around me. “Not really, but the reason gargoyles were carved into buildings in the first place was to ward off the evil spirits from entering, so . . . if you look at it that way, then maybe it’s a good thing. There will be no evil spirits lurking in your marriage.”

I glance up at his freshly shaved face—he usually keeps some scruff on it but chose to go clean today. “Are you going to put a positive spin on everything?”

“I will until you tell me you absolutely hate it. At that point, I will jump the positivity ship, but you need to give it a fair shot first. Who knows, maybe the inside of the chapel really captivates you.”

“I’m not religious, Breaker.”

“You don’t need to be religious to appreciate the sanctity of divine architecture. Think about what it took for people to build this building back in the day. All the intricate carvings and details you don’t see on today’s modern aesthetic.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but no Chipotle has gargoyles or intricate carvings, and I still very much enjoy walking into their establishments.”

“Because you’re a whore for lime salt chips, just like Lottie.”

“How do you know that?” I chuckle.

“That’s where Huxley and Lottie were on their first official date, if that’s what you want to call it. It’s where they went over the terms of their fake fiancé contract. Honestly, saying it out loud really doesn’t sound real. Anyway, she took home the chips that Huxley bought when he really wanted them. He bitched about it for days.”

“You guys are billionaires. You can buy your own Chipotle and turn it into a chip factory for your own personal pleasure. Why was he bitching about someone taking his chips?”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” he says just as The Beave steps out of a black sedan parked a few feet away.

The Beave is something else. Lanky legs always on a minimum of four-inch heels, she always wears an unflattering resting bitch face, accompanied by a nude-colored lip. She mimics the royal family by always wearing a jacket that you can’t quite tell is a dress or is actually a jacket—even in the California heat—and she pairs it with a hat when she’s outdoors. The only time she doesn’t wear a hat is when she’s sitting down for a meal. She reminds me of Yzma from The Emperor’s New Groove, but minus the grayish purple skin, saggy tits that touch her belly button, and adherent henchman who cooks a mean spinach puff.

“Ophelia, hello,” she says rather coldly and then turns to Breaker, a smile playing at her lips. “Mr. Cane, what a treat for you to join us today.” She holds out her skeleton-thin hand, and Breaker takes it and offers her a simple shake.

“Please, Breaker is just fine, and I couldn’t miss an opportunity to be the perfect maid of honor for my girl.” He gives me a squeeze.

“Maid of honor?” The Beave asks, glancing at me. “I wasn’t aware that you would be having a man on your side of the altar.”

I hold back my smirk. The Beave wasn’t expecting a wrench in her plans this early in the morning I bet. There’s no doubt she’s a traditionalist and requires the traditional setting of a wedding. The bride has women on her side, the groom has men. Well, welcome to the modern century because that’s not how we’ll work.

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