Wrong Question, Right Answer (The Bourbon Street Boys #3) - Elle Casey Page 0,123

leaps away from the arbor and starts running toward May.

Lucky runs toward me, his hands out as he hopes to block anything from reaching me.

Marc puts his finger on the trigger of his gun and turns the muzzle to point it at someone sitting in the crowd of guests.

And May raises her bouquet up at Marc and yells, “I change my mind! I don’t want an urban wedding after all!”

Two barbs from the Taser hidden in her bouquet come flying out from the flowers and embed themselves in Marc’s chest. His gun angles up and then falls from his limp hand as his body seizes several times and he arches over backward toward the ground.

May walks toward him, and, with each step, she pulls the trigger again and again, sending several jolts of electricity down the wires. “Take that, you horrible, awful wedding crasher!”

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

May appears in the doorway of the house leading into the backyard, hanging onto Thibault’s arm. Across from where Jenny, the kids, and I are standing at the arbor awaits May’s husband-to-be and his two groomsmen, Dev and Lucky. Lucky winks at me, making my cheeks go warm. I don’t have a bouquet anymore and neither does May, but we don’t need them because we’re badass bitches and we make our own rules.

May has never looked so pretty. Her sister fixed her hair and makeup, both made damp by an excess of tears, and the dress is perfect, both elegant and sweet at the same time, much like the girl wearing it. May ‘The Electrician’ Wexler—a name she’s been calling herself for the past hour—is finally ready to walk down the aisle, now that the man responsible for upsetting the bride has been arrested and two cups of chamomile tea have made their way into her bloodstream.

Ozzie looks like a gentle giant standing under the heavily flowered arbor. He doesn’t seem nervous, but I know him pretty well. Under that chest of steel beats a heart that feels everything, absorbs every emotion from the people around him and yet somehow manages to remain wide open and available to those he loves. A lot of women have come and gone from his life, but only one has stuck. May. I wasn’t sure about her in the beginning, but I’m sure about her now. She’s the one for Ozzie. The only one. Who else would have the lady balls to stop a murderer cold in the middle of her wedding by tazing the shit out of him? Only May. She’s an original, that’s for sure. Ozzie deserves nothing less.

I move my gaze back to Lucky. He’s definitely the one for me. I used to try to fool myself into thinking it was Charlie, but I was so, so wrong about that. I almost convinced myself it was true, too—blinded by his attitude, by the danger he brought with him that I craved. I was trying to outrun my past, the trouble I suffered in my youth, but it was always right there next to me, riding shotgun. Charlie was the last thing I needed, but I couldn’t see that then. Like Lucky said, I was the girl who always blamed myself for what others did to me. There was no way I was in a position to choose a healthy relationship for myself. That’s probably why I never noticed Lucky crushing on me. But I’m not that girl anymore. I refuse to be.

May reaches the arbor and Thibault hands her over to Ozzie, stepping to his friend’s side to act as best man; he’s pulling double duty today. The vows begin, but I don’t hear any of it. I’m too busy staring at my boyfriend. He stares back and smiles. That silly beard only makes him sexier. I didn’t like it before, but it’s grown on me. He could probably shave his head bald and I’d find it sexy. I think this is what love does to you: it makes you blind by opening your eyes.

Rings are exchanged and the happy couple kisses, sealing the deal. I cheer along with everyone else, bracing myself against the pain it causes my ribs. Inside, I’m pain free, though, celebrating their love with them. I could not be happier for my boss and my co-worker—my friend and fellow cube-crew member, May ‘The Electrician’ Wexler.

The reception starts as soon as we’re down the aisle. The caterer opens up twenty chafing pans at the buffet across the lawn, and the champagne is poured.

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