Page 72 of Royally Bad

His blank stare said he wasn’t impressed. “Your definition of crazy and mine are miles apart.”

“Shh. The point is that we don’t need a priest.” Bowing dramatically, I flicked my hair so that it whacked him in the chin. “You’re looking at a registered officiant. We don’t need to bring someone else in to marry these two.”

His lower lip stretched out. “Pretty impressive, sugar. I still like my version better, though.”

“Do you think that’s what happens when girls go out and drink? They just start making out?”

“It’s only natural. Scientific, even.”

Reaching out to give him a soft push, I instead found myself being yanked into his arms. Kain dug one palm into my lower back, gliding it down so he was cupping my ass. His other fingers caught my jaw, forcing me to look up at him. “Wha—”

His breath was warm. “You know what I like better than imagining you kissing other girls?” Kain squeezed my hip, nudging his stomach against mine. “Kissing you myself.”

“Psst!” Matilda peeked into the gazebo, her hand tapping the wood like it was Morse code. “Someone’s coming!” She froze, noticing how Kain had me shoved up against one of the wooden beams.

He winked at her, saying, “Delay them for another ten—maybe fifteen minutes.”

“No!” Scoffing, I wriggled out from under him. I hadn’t noticed that he’d unhooked my bra; with Matilda watching with wide eyes, I quickly reached back to snap it together.

Scanning the gardens, I saw a figure coming our way. When I recognized those hard eyes, I stood stone still.

Hawthorne was here.

He nodded at Kain, giving me a side eye. “Where should I stand?” he asked.

I hadn’t honestly expected him to come. “What about—”

“Mom and Dad didn’t seem keen.” He said no more, as if the conversation was over. Biting my lip, I motioned for him to hide around back where Matilda was with Midas. I didn’t know if it was better or worse to have only some of the family.

It was more than I’d expected, but ... it made it feel emptier, somehow.

Hawthorne trailed behind the gazebo. Over his shoulder, I spotted Midas. He was torn between grinning and fidgeting, his skin slick in the tiny lights woven through the flowers above.

He was wearing—from what I could tell—the same suit he’d had on at the wedding. It was a shame that Francesca wouldn’t have her dress, but surprising her would make it worth it.

Matilda squeaked. “Okay, now she’s coming!”

Fran was making a beeline for the gazebo.

“Everyone, get into position!” I said excitedly.

Bending low, Kain said into my ear, “Youwerein position, I was just about to start teasing that perfect pussy of yours.”

Fire poured into my veins. “I’m about to perform a wedding, give me some breathing room.”

“I don’t know, this feels a lot like how her wedding began before.” He cupped my hip, chuckling against my ear.

My eyes fluttered, and if I hadn’t heard Fran swishing along the grass toward us, I might have given in to Kain. Groaning, I stepped away. “Just stand over there, please.”

In a long, red skirt and a floral, too-tight top, the would-be bride finished her trip across the grass toward us. “I got your text earlier. Why did you need me?” Fran asked, climbing the steps into the gazebo. It took her a second, but her eyes trained up, taking in the soft lighting and fresh flowers we’d arranged. “What the hell is all of this?”

On cue, Matilda pressed the CD player button from where she was ducked behind the gazebo. Gentle, sweet violins began to play. Still Fran blinked, turning from me to Kain, then back again.

Hawthorne wandered into view, standing back enough to watch everything. It wasn’t until Midas cleared his throat, climbing the stairs behind her, that what we were doing registered with her. “Midas?” she gasped, spinning to gawk at me. “Sammy, did you ...?”

Folding my hands in front of me, I lifted my voice. “Ahem. Dearly beloved, we’re gathered here tonight—”

“Oh! Em! Gee!” she squealed.

---