“One point nine?” Ethan said. “Brandon, are you marrying a woman or annexing a small European country?”
Margaret laughed lightly, the kind of laugh that made you feel like you were the rude one for noticing the knife hidden inside it.
“It’s a wedding,” she said. “Not a county fair.”
Brandon just spread his hands. “Chloe’s family has certain expectations. The Canelis know everyone. We can’t do some farmhouse thing with mason jars and a bluegrass trio.”
“Who’s paying for it?” Ethan asked.
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