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“C’mon.”
“Hell, no. Banging my sister doesn’t get you those kind of privileges. Marry her and we’ll talk.” Grinning over his shoulder at me, he yanked open the chapel door and some kind of mystical decidedly non-religious music poured out. It seemed to be a combination of wind chimes, Tibetan singing bowls, and harps.
“This must be a non-denominational chapel.”
“I guess?” I had no clue.
“Does she have any other witchy friends?” he asked before we walked inside.
“That’s a very popular question.” I fell silent as I noticed the cluster of people at the front of the small chapel.
Caleb had his hands folded in front of him, looking like a Zen master befitting the music. At his side, his older brother, August, was smoothing Caleb’s tie and speaking in low tones before he strode away to take his seat beside his wife, Kinleigh, in one of the pews.
And like a fire goddess out of mythology, my tall, striking Ruby shot out of the back in a column o
f white, the color setting off her hair like flames. They matched her blazing eyes as she noticed me—and the man at my side.
She conferred with Caleb for a moment before she marched over to us, brandishing her cluster of winter flowers tied in a velvet bow as if she intended to use it as a projectile.
“Why are you here?” she demanded, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure she didn’t mean me.
Since I was currently struck dumb by her staggering beauty, I had no answer. And when my powers of speech returned, things went in an unexpected direction.
“You’re going to have to marry me.”
I’d assumed if I ever said those words, I would at least get a response. But my intended bride was too busy jabbing pointy stems into her brother’s chest to hear my proposal.
Was it a proposal? I wasn’t even sure. After today, I had no clue what would come out of my mouth next.
“You’re early, and you never even actually said yes. Not definitively. It was a lot of ‘I’ll try, Ging,’ and ‘you know, my schedule is rough, Ging.’ Regarding your own brother. Your own flesh and blood. I know you can’t commit to anything more intense than all you can eat breakfast, but maybe try just once?”
“I’d like to point out I’m here.” He smoothed a hand down her back and drew her against him, crushing the bouquet between them. “Hi. You look amazing. I missed you. Also, did someone say all you can eat breakfast? I’m starving.”
“It’s late afternoon,” I pointed out unhelpfully.
Ruby sniffled against her brother’s chest and then turned her narrowed eyes on me. “You came in with him.”
“He invited me to the wedding.” Rhett flashed me an innocent grin when I glared.
“Figures.” Hurricane Ruby spun away from him and into my arms as if she’d been propelled there.
So, I did what any man who’d just been ignored after a proposal did—I kissed the holy hell out of her in front of some of our friends and family and God and country.
Her sound of protest changed into a moan before she wound her arms around my neck and pressed her recently fuller breasts against my chest. Heaven. Her tongue coiled seductively around mine, and she tasted like cinnamon and sin. Mine. My hand was on its way down her back to cup her ass when a cheer rose up around us.
Whoops.
She drew back to breathe lightly against my lips. “I sort of hate you right now, but I’d bang you like a screw if we were alone.”
“Nail. Why let that stand in our way?”
“Nail what?”
“You. Let me take you into the confessional and make you praise Jesus.”
She snorted out a laugh and jerked back to glance at her brother. “What?” she demanded. “I slipped.” Then she grabbed a handful of her dress and swished away, gorgeous long hair swinging.
Noticing everyone had turned to look at us, she made a revolving gesture with her fingers. “Face forward. The bride’s about to appear. C’mon, Thor. Get in position.”
