Cannon (Carolina Reapers 5)

Which he hadn’t.

Despite all the drama we’d gone through, he’d never, not once said he didn’t love me.

And for now, that was all I needed.

“I’m ready,” I said and turned toward the house where I had a wedding dress waiting for me.

21

Cannon

I was convinced that the VanDoren women were really undercover secret operatives. That was the only logical explanation to the way they’d intercepted me each of the seven times I’d tried to see Persephone since that shit had gone down in the front yard. If this place actually had a designated front yard.

“You sure you want to do this?” Logan asked as we flattened ourselves against the wall in the upstairs hallway.

“Do you think I’d ask you to come up here and play Mission Impossible if I didn’t?” I challenged.

He tilted his head. “Okay, that’s reasonable. But you really don’t think this can wait forty-five minutes until you see her?”

I narrowed my eyes at my best friend. “You honestly think that standing at the altar in front of all our friends and family is a good time to have a heart to heart?”

He mulled it over and nodded. “Again, reasonable.”

“Can you please just open that fucking door so I can talk to my wife?”

“On it.” He stood tall, adjusted the tie of his tuxedo, and knocked on the door between us.

There was a faint sound of rustling before it opened.

“Oh! Logan! How can I help you?” Mrs. VanDoren asked.

Logan turned on the charm with a regretful smile. “I know these minutes are sacred, but Cannon just sent me up. There’s apparently an issue with the flowers at the altar—”

“The peonies?” she gasped.

I held my breath and prayed that she didn’t look through the crack in the door that would show me doing a shit job of hiding.

“Right, the peonies,” Logan continued. “It turns out he thought you said posies?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Mama, is everything okay?” I heard Persephone ask, and my heart jumped.

“It’s fine, darling. Don’t you worry about a single thing.”

“Right, so the florist said that Cannon is wrong, and they’re supposed to be posies, and they’re still down there arguing—”

“They are most certainly supposed to be peonies. Of all the silly things to go wrong today. Honey, I’ll be right back. You just stay right here, and we’ll get your dress on in a few minutes, okay?”

“No problem.” Her voice was the only thing I’d wanted to hear all day.

Logan stepped back and held his arm out to Mrs. VanDoren, facing the opposite way from where I was hiding. She took his arm and headed down the hall. The minute they turned the corner, I yanked open the door and stepped inside.

Persephone’s childhood bedroom was pink…and not just a little pink. Really fucking pink. And frilly. The door to the ensuite bathroom was open, and as I headed that way, Andromeda stepped into the doorway.

“Oh hell no! You don’t get to see her before the wedding! Get out!” she snapped.

“What? Who is that?” Persephone asked.

“I’ve been trying all day to talk to my wife, and you know it.” I folded my arms across my chest. “You’ve stolen her cell phone, posted a guard at the bottom of the staircase, another guard at the tree that grows just outside her window, refused the flowers I sent up to her—”

She grimaced. “We gave her the flowers…we just kept the card from her.”

“The card was all I cared about!”

“Well, I’d certainly read more romantic notes. Call me so we can talk, certainly didn’t make the top ten in my life—or hers, I might add.” She cocked her head at me.

“You did what? Andromeda get out of my way right this minute!” Persephone demanded.

I cocked an eyebrow at my fake sister-in-law.

She grumbled but stepped aside so Persephone could come through the doorway.

Her hair and makeup had already been done, the first in an elaborate updo that had my palms itching with the knowledge that I’d pull every pin loose later, and the second a more formal version of the minimalist style Persephone favored. She looked beautiful.

She tucked the edges of the white, silk bathrobe closer around her and looked up at me with wonder, her gaze skimming over the details of my tux before coming back to my face. “Cannon.”

“We need to talk.”

Some of the light shuttered in her eyes, but she nodded. “Anne, get out, and don’t you dare come back until you see Cannon leave.”

“Are you serious? You know that seeing the bride on the wedding day is horrible luck! I might buck tradition, but even I made sure not to violate that one.” She tapped her foot under a lavender bridesmaid dress—the same one I’d just seen Lillian in as she dressed Owen.

“And look how that turned out for you,” Persephone offered with a smile. “Now do me a favor and stand guard for Mama. I’m not kidding. We need a moment.”