by J. M. Snyder
Lane slid onto an empty stool, and Remy took the one in between the two most important men in his life. “I want a fizzy drink, too,” Lane said. “Do you have a Pizzazz for grown-ups?”
“I can make it with gin or vodka,” she said. “Pick your poison.”
Remy sighed. “After the day I’ve had, how about both?”
With a laugh, she asked, “In the same glass, or do you want two?”
“I want a whole bottle of both,” Remy told her. “It doesn’t even have to be purple. But I do want the pineapple with it.”
“Honey, this is Hawaii,” the bartender said. “Pineapple comes with everything.”
* * * *
By the time their drinks arrived, Remy had spread all the papers out across the bar for Lane to look over, and he had his iPad open so he could look over the marriage requirements on the State of Hawaii’s website. He no longer trusted anything Chell had told him. When Braden saw Remy’s iPad, he crossed his arms on the bar and pouted harder than before. “No fair! You won’t let me play any games.”
“I’m working on salvaging my wedding,” Remy told his son, “not playing Angry Birds. Can you sit quietly for five minutes without having to be entertained, please?”
Lane pulled his iPhone out of his back pocket and slid it across the bar to Braden. “Here you go, kid. Knock yourself out.”
“Cool! Thanks!” Braden grabbed up the phone before Remy could tell him not to.
Turning back to the paperwork, Lane shook his head as he read over the marriage performer registration. “This is the one that gets me right here. She says she’s a licensed minister, but this is the first I’ve heard of it. In what denomination?”
“The Church of Crazy,” Remy muttered. He found the marriage section of Hawaii’s Department of Health website and scanned it quickly. There were two headings, one marked Couples and one marked Performers. “Hey, look. We have to complete an online application before going down in person to get a marriage license. Thanks for telling us, Chell.”
Lane started, “She didn’t—”
“I know,” Remy cut him off. “I’m being facetious.”
There was a link of requirements for obtaining a license; Remy clicked on it, sure there was something else she’d forgotten to mention, as well. But at first glance, everything looked to be in order. No residency was needed, no blood tests, a valid driver’s license as proof of ID, good, good…
Then, at the bottom of the list, were the words, If previously married. “Oh shit.”
“Aww,” Braden said as he slurped his Purple Pineapple Pizzazz. “You said—”
“Hush, please.” Remy held up the iPad so Lane could read it. “Look at this. I need a copy of my original divorce decree when we go to get the license.”
Lane frowned as he read the screen. “You have it, right?”
“Yeah,” Remy said, “back home! Christ! She knew I was married before! Why the hell didn’t she mention this?”
Braden tried again, “You said the h-word—”
“Brae, not now!” Remy snapped.
“Jeez Louise.” Sliding off the barstool, Braden carried his drink and Lane’s phone around to the other end of the bar, where he could sit beside Lane instead of his father. Lane held the stool for him as he climbed into it. “Thanks. Someone’s in a bad mood over there.”
“Someone’s mad,” Remy said with a sigh. “Not at you.”
Braden shrugged as he bent over Lane’s phone to play a game. “At that woman with the funny hair, I know, so don’t take it out on me.”
Remy sighed again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and wished he had been more assertive back in October when same-sex marriage was made legal in Virginia. If only he’d been able to marry Lane then, none of this would be happening to them now.
He felt Lane’s hand cover his where it rested on the bar. Then, softly, Lane asked, “Does Kate have a copy, too?”
“Yeah, of course…” Remy sat up with a start. Of course! Leaning over, he kissed his lover full on the lips. “You’re a genius! Of course she has a copy!”
“And she’s still at home, right?” Lane asked, a slow grin spreading over his face. “Kiss me again.”
Remy did. And a third time, just for fun. “They leave tomorrow. Let me call her real quick and ask her to bring it. This is why I love you.”
“Not the only reason, I hope,” Lane murmured, claiming a fourth and final kiss before Remy pulled out his cell phone to call his ex-wife.
* * * *
The call to Kate didn’t go quite as well as Remy hoped. “You’re lucky you got out when you did,” she said when she answered the phone.
He turned away from Lane, who was helping Braden get past a particularly difficult level of Angry Birds. “What do you mean? Wait ‘til you see this place. It’s gorgeous here.”
“If we get there,” Kate said with a sigh. “Our flight’s been pushed back.”
Remy felt as if the floor had fallen out from under him. “What? Why?”
Kate forced a laugh that sounded anything but funny. “Get this—it’s snowing here.”
“No way.” He felt a hand touch his shoulder and turned to tell Lane, “It’s snowing in Richmond.”
Braden’s eyes lit up. “Yay!”
To Kate, Remy said, “It’s mid-seventies here and not a cloud in the sky. When do you think you’ll be able to get out?”
“Everything’s grounded overnight because of the storm,” Kate said. “The temperature’s supposed to drop below freezing, so they’re saying tomorrow morning we’ll be coated in ice. I had to go to the store and stock up on a few things because you know I’d let everything run out, thinking we’d be leaving for two weeks, and everyone else was there fighting for the last of the bread and milk like this was the apocalypse or something.”
“Damn,” Remy muttered.
Kate sighed. “Sorry, Jer. I know you were hoping to spend this time with Lane, and I wish I was there to take Braden off your hands for a bit, believe me. Mid-seventies sounds like heaven compared to the blizzard we’re dealing with at the moment. We’ll get on the first flight out we can, I promise.”
“I know,” Remy said. “It’s just—God, you have to meet this chick, Lane’s old friend? She’s a piece of work. She just dumped us at the hotel without a rental car, without anything, and took off for some surfer competition, and won’t be back until Monday at the earliest. If she expects me to just wait around here for her—”
“She doesn’t know you very well, does she?” Kate quipped.
Remy laughed, and some of the tension that had been building in him since he’d landed in Hawaii dissipated. “She’s next to useless,” he complained. “I hired her to help us out and now the wedding’s in ten days, but more than half of them are weekends and holidays, which leaves us with precious little time to actually get anything done, and she flits off to go surfing like she has all the time in the world. You know what? I’m just going to handle everything myself. But I need that divorce decree. I would’ve brought my copy if she’d told me I needed it.”
“Okay, honey? Calm down,” Kate said. “Listen to me. Let me scan it in and email it to you. Then print a copy out at the hotel and take that if we’re not there by the time you go to get the license—”
“You better be here by then,” Remy warned. He felt Lane’s hand on his arm again, steady and warm, and he leaned into his lover’s touch, welcoming it. “How long can they shut down the airport? You have to get here soon!”
Kate assured him, “As soon as I can, don’t worry. But let me email it anyway, just in case. That way you’ll have it. Is Braden there?”
“Okay, thanks. Let me put him on.” Reaching across Lane, Remy held out the phone to his son. “Mom wants to talk to you.”
Lane pressed his nose to Remy’s cheek. “So they’re stuck in Richmond for how long?”
Remy leaned on Lane’s arm and sighed. “Who knows? But hey, look on the bright side. If they can’t leave, does that
mean we can’t go back?”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Lane murmured. He brushed the hair back behind Remy’s ear and chased it with a kiss.
Chapter 8
When Lane woke early the next morning, he wasn’t exactly sure how early it was. He just knew the room was dark—pitch black, in fact, without the faintest ray of light coming through the blinds he’d pulled across the windows when he turned in the night before. He lay awake for a moment, eyes open but unseeing in the darkness, and waited for the wave of unfamiliarity to wash over him. He felt wrapped in warmth and cozy in the soft bedding, and Remy’s strong arm draped around his shoulders assured him he was safe. Even if he wasn’t sure where he might be, he was with his lover, and that was all he needed to know.
Then the events of the past twenty-four hours came back to him in a flurry. The long plane ride, the Houston airport, then Honolulu, the lush hotel room. Drinks at the hotel bar, then dinner. Chell.
God, Chell.
With a start, he sat up a little without disturbing Remy and reached for his phone on the bedside table. He pressed a button and the time came up—3:50 A.M. Jesus, that was early. Damn jet lag, Lane thought, pushing the phone away and burrowing back into his pillow. How long would it take his body to adjust? Because he was wide awake now, and Lord knew he’d need all the rest he could get in the days to come.
Still, maybe he wasn’t the only one up so early. Or rather, he didn’t have to be.
He and Remy hadn’t had a moment alone since…well, since who knew when? Braden stayed over their place the night before they left for Hawaii because their flight was so early in the morning. He’d gotten better about sleeping upstairs in what Lane still thought of as “the new house” by himself, but both Lane and Remy had been too wound up about their coming trip to do much more than cuddle before calling it an early night.
They knew they wouldn’t be able to steal much quiet time with Braden around, but Lane hadn’t realized how much he was looking forward to Kate’s arrival until he found out her flight was delayed. Richmond rarely got heavy snowfall, and never this early in the year! Of course, it had to happen now, when he needed her to take Braden off their hands. He loved Remy’s son as if Braden were his own, he did, but the kid just had the worst timing! Lane had never met anyone who was such an effective cock-blocker, ever. Last year at Christmas, he’d thought Braden had been trying to keep him and Remy apart out of spite, because at first the two of them didn’t get along very well. But they were the best of friends now, and that only seemed to make things worse. Now Braden wanted to spend time with them, and Lane couldn’t just say no, could he? How bad would that look?
But if a guy could really die of blue balls, he thought ruefully, I’d be a goner. His only saving grace was the large screen TV and all those silly video game systems. Braden spent most of the evening glued to them, which had allowed Remy and Lane a little one-on-one, if nothing else…
What about now?
The thought came suddenly, and Lane felt a slow grin spread across his face. Right now Braden was asleep, or should be, and if he wasn’t, well, their bedroom door was closed, so if they were really quiet, he wouldn’t hear them anyway. Lane was awake and, more importantly, up—in fact, the weight of his lover’s arm over his shoulders, the warmth of Remy’s body curled against his, and the faint press of what could only be Remy’s limp cock alongside the cheek of Lane’s ass all conspired to make sure Lane wouldn’t get back to sleep again anytime soon. Beneath his thigh, his dick swelled and his balls grew heavy, and Lane moaned softly as he rubbed against the mattress to turn towards his lover.
Remy’s head was half off the pillow, tucked down under the blanket where he’d curled into Lane in his sleep. Now Lane moved closer, wrapping an arm around him, and kissed his forehead, brushing the hair back from his brow. “Hey,” he murmured. Beneath the sheets, his stiffening dick pressed against Remy’s leg.
Almost instantly, he felt Remy’s cock twitch in response.
He kissed his lover’s closed eyelid and tucked a strand of hair behind Remy’s ear. He blew lightly over the curved surface, then traced it with his finger in the dark. He felt Remy shiver at his touch, and a moment later, Remy snuggled closer to him. “Lane,” he sighed sleepily.
“Hey, baby,” Lane whispered, running a hand along Remy’s shoulder, down his side, then around his waist down, following the muscles leading to the treasure coiled in the center of his being. Grasping his thick dick, Lane gave the slight erection a gentle squeeze.
Remy moaned into his throat with obvious pleasure.
Lane trailed tiny kisses down along Remy’s jawline to his chin. Then he took Remy’s lower lip between both of his and tugged, suckling it, before licking his tongue over the top of it and into Remy’s mouth. In his hand, his lover’s cock grew, and Lane stroked the length with his forefinger, tickling along the underside to find the spot at the base he knew Remy liked to have scratched.
When his nail glanced over it, his lover came alive in his arms, jolted awake as if electrified. Suddenly Remy rolled on top of Lane, pinning him to the mattress and taking charge. The nibbles turned into a throaty kiss. The touches became a full-on body press. Remy’s legs straddled Lane’s hips, his cock hard and eager now, thrusting against Lane’s own. Lane eased his other hand between them and encircled both their shafts as they rubbed together. Remy cradled Lane’s head against the pillow, kissing his lips and throat.
As Remy nipped his chin, Lane joked, “So it looks like I’m not the only one who can’t sleep.”
“You woke me up,” Remy murmured between kisses. “Let’s see what you’re going to do about it now.”
Releasing their dicks, Lane ran his hands up over Remy’s hips and around his lover’s ass to cup Remy’s firm buttocks. He squeezed, pulling his lover to him. “Fuck me,” he murmured, careful not to talk too loudly in case his voice should carry out into the living room.
Remy snickered. “Such a filthy mouth. To think it tastes so sweet, too.”
“Fuck me,” Lane said again, laughing as Remy tried to kiss him quiet. “Fuck me, fuck me!”
“Shh!” Remy covered Lane’s mouth with his. When that didn’t work, he put his hand over Lane’s lips. “Once more and I’ll find something else to stick in it to shut you up.”
“Sounds promising.” Lane’s voice was muffled, and a moment later, Remy felt Lane’s hot, wet tongue lick along his fingers. It eased its way out between his middle and ring finger, obscenely wiggling at Remy. When Remy pulled his hand away to wipe it off, Lane cried out, “Give it to me!”
Grabbing his pillow, Remy covered Lane’s face with it as he tried not to laugh too loud. “Be quiet! You’ll wake up Braden!”
Playfully Lane slapped the pillow aside and wrestled Remy to the bed. Leaning over his lover, he pressed his lips to Remy’s ear and breathed into it, hot and heavy, which he knew turned Remy on. Sure enough, he felt his lover’s cock respond against his leg. “Fuck me, then,” he whispered.
Remy kissed Lane’s cheek, the closest part he could reach. “As you wish. Where’d you put the lube?”
Before Lane could answer, Remy’s cell phone rang on the bedside table.
Lane dropped his head to the mattress beside Remy. “Damn it. Who the hell is calling at this hour?”
“Someone who doesn’t know how time zones work.” Remy nudged him and Lane rolled onto the bed. “Maybe it’s Kate. Maybe their plane left on time after all.”
Lane spread his arms out wide and stared up at the dark ceiling. “Kate would know not to call. Maybe it’s Chell.”
“It better not be,” Remy warned.
The bed moved as he sat up, then the room brightened slightly when he turned on his iPhone. Remy hit the wrong button while answering the call, though, and instead of simply connecting the call, he turned on Facetime. Suddenly Lane heard the voice of Remy’s mother. “Oh, hi honey! Why is it so dark? I can’t see you?”
Remy groaned softly. “Hi Mom. It’s four i
n the morning here, that’s why. What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing’s wrong.” She laughed, a little titter that sounded overly caffeinated. “We’re just getting ready to leave California. It’s so early here, too!”
Remy picked up the phone and lay back down on the bed beside Lane. “Not as early as it is here,” he muttered.
Mrs. McIntosh was sitting in an airplane seat, her curly gray hair cropped short and held back with a pair of sunglasses perched on top of her head. Squinting, she asked, “Who’s that with you? Braden?”
“The man I’m going to marry, remember? The whole reason you’re coming here in the first place.” Remy held the phone out over his lover. “Say hi.”
Lane smiled and waved at his future mother-in-law. “Hi, Mrs. McIntosh.”
“Oh, hello, dear.” Her vague smile made Lane wonder if she could see him. He thought not.
Remy took the phone back. “What time are you due in?”
Instead of answering, she said, “Oh, your father’s right here. Ralph, say hi.”
Lane turned his face away and snickered into the blankets. Remy’s father’s voice came through the phone, gruff and grouchy. “Hey, son. Hate these things, you know that? It’s hurry up and wait, and we have a long layout in LAX. Why couldn’t we have just flown out of there? We’d still be in bed then, and wouldn’t have to kill two hours.”
“Hour and a half, dear,” his wife corrected.
Lane curled into Remy, and his lover’s arm came up around his shoulder to hold him close. “Okay, folks? It’s really early here, and you sort of woke us up—”
“Oh! So sorry, honey.” His mother was back again, smiling distractedly. From the angle, it was obvious she held the phone in her lap; Lane could see right up her nose. Not a pretty shot.
Remy tried again. “When are we picking you up?”
His mother covered the phone with her hand for a second, then came back all flustered. “Sorry, sorry! We have to go, they’re telling us to turn off our phones. We’ll be there around noon, okay? See you then. Love you!”
“What flight?” Remy asked. “At noon exactly, or—”
