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A Long Time Coming (Cane Brothers, #3)(43)

Author:Meghan Quinn

The Beave slowly nods her head. “You know, the flowers will be in full bloom in five weeks.” She snaps her finger, and her assistant appears by her side. “Get the club on the phone at once. I need to make arrangements.” She then turns to us. “Now the gardens would be magnificent, but I worry about your ability to walk in heels in the grass.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it at all,” I say, not wanting her to find an excuse not to use the gardens. “I’m quite astute with heels.”

“Very astute,” Breaker says.

“The most astute,” I add, which, of course, causes The Beave to give me a look of derision. “Uh . . . just watch. I’ll strut up and down this carpet.” I flop the length of the veil behind me, and with the utmost concentration, I walk down the aisle, pretending to hold a bouquet. My sweaty feet slip against the surface of my heels, but I keep them in place as I make it down to the altar.

Thank Jesus, I made it.

“Walk back,” The Beave says, her voice unconvincing that she believes I can execute walking in heels.

God, she’s such a freaking pill.

Shoulders set back, hands poised in front of me, I put one foot in front of the other and head back down the aisle.

Eat your heart out, Beave.

You can make me feel like shit about my glasses.

You can take away my right to choose my own wedding.

But I refuse to allow you to make me feel like I can’t walk in freaking heels.

“See,” I say as I hold my hands out, approaching her. “Not a problem at . . .” On my last step, my foot slips out of my shoe, throwing me off my balance. “Oh shit,” I cry out just as I reach for the closest thing near me . . .

A candleholder.

I clutch it tightly.

“Whoa, buddy,” I say on a shaky breath. “That was a close one.” I chuckle just as I glance up at the candle as it shakily rocks in place.

“Uh, Lia,” Breaker says as he steps forward.

But it’s too late.

It all happens in slow motion as the candle tips over and falls to the ground. My eyes travel with it, watching as it falls right on top of the gathered fabric of the veil.

My breath catches in my chest.

My eyes widen.

And in seconds, the veil bursts into a fury of flames.

“Oh my God!” I shout. “Oh my God, I’m on fire. I’m on FIRE!” I toss the candlestick to the side, and with one heel on and one heel off, I fly down the aisle, running away from the flames . . . as they chase after me.

“The veil!” The Beave screeches.

“You’re on fire,” Breaker cries.

“Put it out, put it out, put it out,” I scream.

“Jesus Christ,” Breaker shouts. “Roll, Lia, roll!”

“Roll where?” I shout back as I circle the altar, the flaming veil moving closer and closer to my head. “Dear Jesus, don’t set my hair on fire. Please, for the love of your father, don’t set it on fire.”

“An heirloom,” The Beave says right before she collapses into a pew.

“Roll, for fuck’s sake!”

I drop to the ground and roll, tucking my knees in so I’m not caught up in the pews. “Is it out?” I yell. “Am I still burning?” I glance over my shoulder and see the flames chasing after me. “Ahhhhh! Breaker, it’s coming to get me. Save my soul . . . save it!” I continue to roll as I see smoke lift into the air. “What’s that smell? Is that my hair? Breaker, help—”

Splash.

Water douses me, soaking me to my bone while putting the fire out at the same time.

I glance up to see Breaker holding a very large metal bowl, his chest heaving, horror in his eyes.

“Is it . . . is it out?”

He swallows hard and nods. “Yeah, it’s out.”

I lay flat on the ground, wet and horrified, as I let out a deep breath. “Where did you get the water?”

He glances down at the empty bowl and winces. “Uh . . . I believe I just blessed you hard with holy water.”

I shake my head. “Baptism by fire just took on a whole new meaning,” I say as I hear The Beave mumbling some sort of prayer in the background. I swallow hard. “Consider me converted.”

“She hates me,” I say as Breaker opens the door to the stationery store.

After I gently gave The Beave back her ruined heirloom veil, I told her I was going to change clothes before our next meeting to pick invitations. Breaker whisked me away, and instead of discussing what just happened, we sat in silence as we drove along the palm tree-lined streets of Los Angeles.

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