Cane Brothers by Meghan Quinn

A Not So Meet Cute

How did you two meet?

The quintessential question asked to every couple. And the answer is usually some bubbly, lovey dovey tale of being struck in the bum by Cupid's arrow.

My meet cute (well not so meet cute) is slightly different. I was trolling a wealthy neighborhood in Beverly Hills, searching for someone to take me as their bride, you know, to make my arch nemesis jealous who consequently just fired me.

He was stomping around the block like some sort of gorgeous ogre, mumbling about a business deal gone wrong and attempting to finagle his way out of it.

And that's when we bumped into each other.

There were no sparks.

Not even a hint of blossoming love.

But next thing I knew, I was scarfing down free chips and guac, listening to this man lay out all of his problems which led to his big ask . . . he wanted me to be his Vivian Ward, you know, from Pretty Woman--minus the frisky behavior.

We're talking about living in a mansion, intimate double dates, and pretending we were head over heels in love . . . and engaged. Can you imagine?

The absolute audacity.

But people do crazy things when they're desperate. And I reeked of desperation. So, I struck up a deal.

My one big mistake, though . . . big . . . HUGE? I accidentally fell for the incomparable Huxley Cane.

So Not Meant To Be

Am I in love with JP Cane?
Ha! He certainly thinks so . . .

He's annoyingly loud, obnoxiously handsome, and having watched When Harry Met Sally is convinced that men and women can't just be friends.

So when we have to fly to San Francisco for work and stay in the same penthouse, I'm happy to prove him wrong.

Yet with his continuous flirting and his polished good looks, I'm soon finding it hard to sleep at night.
But guess who can control herself? This girl.

Because if there is one thing I know for certain, it's that JP Cane is wrong.

Men and women CAN just be friends and we are SO not meant to be . . .

A Long Time Coming

Have you ever heard of a man-in-waiting?

Yeah, neither has my best friend's soon-to-be monster-in-law. Ooo, sorry, I meant mother-in-law. Nor has she heard of the term, what the bride wants, the bride gets.

With wedding planning underway and a short timeline, my best friend, Lia, has recruited me to help her battle the snarly beast that is Mrs. Beaver. Not scared at all, I accept the challenge as her man-in-waiting--aka, man of honor--and take matters into my own hands.

The only problem is, with every second we draw closer to the wedding, I'm starting to see my best girl in a different light.

She's always been beautiful to me, but now . . . I find myself staring a touch too long. My hand lingering for one more minute. And when she's upset? Allowing her to sleep in my bed.

And before I know what's happening, it hits me like a ton of bricks. I'm in love with my best friend. Not just in love, but infatuated.

No one compares to her and nothing seems to distract me from that realization.
Not the girl I try to date while I help plan Lia's wedding.
Not her angry fiancé who thinks I'm growing too close.
And not the looming deadline of her nuptials.

Which means, there's only one thing left for me to do. Prove to Lia I'm the one she should be with instead. But with the pressure of her engagement, the stress from her soon-to-be mother-in-law, and the breath-stealing nerves running through me, I'm finding it a lot harder to claim the girl than I would like to admit.

Say a little prayer for me . . .