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{ Chapter Forty-One: When the Romantic Comedy Finally Meets its Destination }

JAMES IS SO GRATEFUL TO SEE JANICE (who is glittering under the porch light and he has never seen anything so magical) that he can stomach not punching Karlo in the face when the guy snatches the macarons from his hands before he can even say hello.

"Oh, caramel!" Karlo says gleefully, rummaging through the small note on the side with the flavours outlined (his mother insisted just in case there really is something they had an allergy to). "My favourite! You shouldn't have."

"Because he didn't!" Janice gives James a sympathetic look before stepping back. "Sorry about the hyperactive child over here." Her voice is gentle as she leans in. James can smell the vanilla. "I'm excited to eat them. Now, come in and meet the final boss of the family."

Before he steps in, the first words already tumble out of his mouth. "Janice, you look absolutely gorgeous. A-line cut? With the stitched denim. Fabulous. Brielle would be proud."

"Right?" Janice says, twirling a little to give the full look, and his eyes follow her movement so carefully he can tell she's blushing. "I gave her a call after we hung up but I think I look less like a Christmas decoration than I thought." She gestures to her hair and the green, and he doesn't bother to hold back a laugh.

Janice then lifts up to touch his elbow and clears her throat, turning to look behind her. "Uh, James. This is my dad, Marcus Diablo."

It only takes James to give one glance at the Diablo head and realize he is well and truly sure that this man could throw him into an automobile mixer, cover him in cement, throw his body into the Ohio rivers, and he would say thank you for your service.

With the way Marcus is sizing him up, brooding and silent, the blond doesn't believe there's anything else he can even say.

James wipes his sweaty palms on his white button-down before stretching his hand out in front of him. Might as well lay it thick, he thinks. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Diablo. Sorry for intruding so suddenly and spontaneously."

"As long as you know," the man's deep voice reverberates and James fights off a shiver.

"I brought a peace offering," he throws out, trying not to be timid as he points towards the macarons in Janice's hands.

Why didn't I just bring a cake like a normal person? the blond internally curses.

"Dad," Janice hisses at his side, elbowing her dad gently. Louder, she says to Karlo, "Go tell everyone James is here so they can start setting up. Which I know the twins haven't already."

"I'll go do that," Karlo says quickly, just as loud, already making his way to the backyard in record-time.

"Oh, shoot," Janice suddenly blurts out after he leaves. At James' questioning glance, she sends him a sheepish smile. "I have to go get some things from the fridge in the garage I put yesterday for dinner. Why don't you keep my dad company while I go and do that?"

How about the hell not, you conniving woman, James simmers.

Attractive? All he sees is evil. Pure sin. Complete Diablo.

What comes out of his mouth is a choked, "Yes, of course, go do that," before Janice disappears around the corner and down the stairs where the basement connects to the garage (easier access than going outside the front door).

Not being able to bear it if there is a sudden awkward silence, James tries to wrack his brain with anything that comes to mind. Coughing into his fist, his tongue is already running to say, "So, Mr. Diablo, I hear you enjoy cars?" and wants to bite it off after he realizes this is the second dumbest thing that could've come out of his mouth aside from "How's the weather?"

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