by J. M. Snyder
He felt sorry for Lynnette, though if she worked on commission, as he was sure she did, then his sympathy didn’t go too far, because Kate and Angie decided not to rent their dresses, as they had intended to do, but instead bought them outright. “It’s just so right on me,” Kate gushed as Lynnette carefully boxed up the dress. “I can wear it anywhere, you know?”
“Yeah, if I can just get Ed to take me somewhere first,” Angie said, but she handed over her credit card eagerly when asked. The dresses weren’t cheap, and she also bought the one for Emma, too, because she thought her daughter looked too precious in it not to buy it.
Bev was a bit smarter—or more pragmatic—and rented a simple, three-piece suit reminiscent of something in a Jackie O collection. It was teal with black accents, and Remy finally managed to get in touch with his mother to get her size so she could have a similar dress. He told her of the change in plans, and could’ve sworn he heard annoyance in her voice when she said, “Fine, we’ll be there in the morning. We don’t have to make the rehearsal, do we? I mean, we’ve already sort of done this once before. All weddings are basically the same, right?”
Remy seethed with anger. All weddings were the same? Where the hell did she get off…but no. He took a calming breath and sighed. Fine. Because he didn’t trust himself to answer, he simply hung up instead. He didn’t even give her a time to show up Sunday. If they wanted to be there, they would. If not, it was their loss, not his.
Between the two matrons’ suits, the groomsmaids’ purchases, the grooms’ tuxedos, and Braden’s mini-tux, their bill was pretty high. Remy didn’t know what sort of cut Lynnette would get from the sales, but overall he didn’t feel but so bad when she ushered them out the door at quarter after four in the afternoon, leaving behind a showroom that would take hours to reassemble.
The brief conversation with his mother still had Remy on edge, and as they left the boutique, his attention was drawn to the ocean a dozen feet beyond the end of the sidewalk. The sun was already setting; this late in the year, the day ended early, and a reddish glow spread across the blue waves, turning the sand and sea into fiery shades. Catching Lane’s hand, Remy pulled his lover back to him before they reached the van. “Hey, you know what we haven’t done yet since we’ve been here?”
Lane’s faint smile turned into a leer. “I can think of a few things. I thought Braden was supposed to stay with Kate some nights.”
Remy laughed and tugged on Lane’s arm. “No, listen. We haven’t been to the beach yet at all. How can you visit Hawaii without going to the beach even once?”
Leaning back against the side of the van, Lane wrapped his arms around Remy’s waist and pulled his lover to him. “How can I share a bed with a sexy man like you and do nothing but sleep all night long?” he joked. “But I know what you mean. Thing is, we’ll be going tomorrow. I seem to remember someone scheduling a wedding down the shore.”
“And once that’s over, I’ll see what I can do about Kate taking Braden off our hands the rest of the time we’re here,” Remy promised.
* * * *
When they returned to the hotel, a large Hawaiian man waited for them in the lobby. Actually, large was an understatement. He was a good head and shoulders taller than both Remy and Lane; for the first time in years, Remy had to look up at someone, and it made him feel very insecure. Also, the man was huge—and there was no sugar-coating it, no way Kate could shrug off his weight. His arms literally spanned the entire length of the couch in the hotel’s lobby, and when he stood, he just seemed to keep on standing. It was like watching a mountain move.
He turned towards them, and Remy’s smile froze in place. The man had a thick, black tribal tattoo stenciled on his face—it started on his forehead, encircled his left eye, and flowed down onto his cheek like some sort of warrior mark. That’s going to be in all the wedding photos, Remy thought with a sigh. It wasn’t like they could hide the guy somehow, either; if both his and Lane’s families stood in front of the man, he would still be visible behind them, much the same way Diamond Head towered above Waikiki in pictures taken all over the beach.
Despite his bulk, the man moved with surprisingly fluid grace. His straight black hair was pulled back into a tight, thin knot at the back of his neck, and he wore puka shell and hemp jewelry, much the same as what Chell had favored. His busy Hawaiian shirt, madras shorts, and ragged surfer shoes completed his ultra-casual look. Remy was surprised the guy wasn’t out hanging ten with Chell and her buddies at the Pipeline, or wherever they were at, but if this really was the minister Kate had hired, he was lucky not everyone in Hawaii lived on “island time.”
Remy was sure a guy that big would have a voice even bigger, and it would boom through the room like an earthquake, startling the hotel guests and staff alike. But when he introduced himself, his voice was melodic and soft-spoken, and Remy almost had to strain to hear it. “Aloha! E komo mai,” he said, his words strung together with a singsong quality that made Remy grin to hear them. “I’m Paavo Paahao, aloha.”
He bent at the waist, and quickly everyone imitated him, echoing, “Aloha.”
In a loud whisper, Braden said, “Mom, do you see his face? He has—”
Kate tugged on his arm to silence him and gave Paavo a tight grin. “I’m sorry,” she said, shooting Remy an embarrassed look. “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice.”
“Mahalo, ‘a’ole pilikia,” Paavo replied with a disarming smile. Looking at Braden, he pointed at the tribal tattoo. “You like, keiki?”
Braden hid behind Kate’s leg, so Remy stepped forward, hand outstretched. “I don’t understand half of what you said, but if you’re the guy who’s going to marry us tomorrow, then hello. I’m Remy.”
Paavo’s hand was hot and huge, and for a moment, Remy feared his fingers would be crushed in the mammoth paw. “Aloha. Ae, I am the kahuna pule. You are the kahu lio, eh?”
Remy suspected he was being tested, but for what, he wasn’t sure. “I’m the groom, yes. Or rather, one of them. Lane’s my partner.”
“Ah, ae.” Paavo shook Lane’s hand, as well, then clapped both of them on the shoulders, which sent Remy and Lane staggering into each other. “Ho’omaika’i ‘ana, may your hearts dance together as long as the sea rushes to embrace the sand, may your love burn as bright and as eternal as Pele’s passions, which even now kindle beneath our island home. Tomorrow we will join together two souls as one. Are you ready to commit absolutely to each other?”
Remy felt Lane’s hand ease into his, and he squeezed his lover’s fingers in encouragement. “Yes, we are,” he said. Lane nodded in agreement.
Paavo’s smile beamed down on them, as benevolent as the sun. “Good, good. That’s basically all I have,” he admitted, dropping his arms to his sides with a shrug. “I mean, it’s the ceremony in a nutshell—oh, I’ll go on a bit more at some length, you’ll exchange rings, kiss, all the good stuff, but yeah. We can walk through it with the ladies if you want, so everyone knows their places, or if we’re good, we can just go ahead and skip right to the food. I don’t know about all of you, but I could eat.”
Remy looked at Lane, who stared at Paavo a moment longer, then gave Remy a look that said, do you believe this guy? One of the women giggled, but without turning, Remy couldn’t tell who it was. Paavo glanced around and patted his ample stomach, but when no one moved or said anything, he added, “Restaurant’s on the second floor here, am I right?”
“You’ve been here before, I take it,” Lane said.
“Oh, yeah.” Paavo started for the elevators, not waiting around to see if they needed a more in-depth rehearsal. “I’ll just wait for you guys up there.”
For a long moment, they watched the broad expanse of his retreating back. Finally, Braden must have deemed him far enough out of earshot to try again. “Mom, his face—”
“Hush.” Kate touched Remy’s shoulder and said, “Well, look at it this way, at least he’s better than Chell—”
“How?” Rem
y wanted to know. “How is he better, huh? Tell me, exactly, because I sure as hell don’t see it. Lane?”
Lane shrugged. “I don’t know. All the stuff he said about dancing until the sea stopping was pretty damn poetic, you have to admit. Chell couldn’t have come up with that.”
Remy grunted. “Yeah, well, we put a cap on his meal tab or he’ll eat through the rest of our budget. I want something left over to spend on our honeymoon when all is said and done.”
* * * *
Because the rehearsal dinner wasn’t scheduled to begin until 6:30, they went upstairs to their rooms to change and put away their purchases from the bridal boutique. For some reason Remy couldn’t quite figure out, his and Lane’s room had become the popular hangout—Ed, William, and Mike were still lounging on the couch watching TV, and when the women dressed for dinner, they came over, too. Braden and Emma played quietly on the floor by the window—or, rather, Braden played his DS and held the screen down low enough so she could watch. How much she enjoyed it, Remy didn’t know, but it kept her quiet, at least. The only people missing from the picture were his parents, but when he tried to call his mother, he went straight to voicemail. Fuck it, he thought, not bothering to leave a message.
Kate kept a close eye on the clock, and herded everyone out of the room at 6:15. “What’s the rush?” Remy asked, stepping into his sandals. His hair was still damp from a shower, and he didn’t want to leave Lane alone in the bathroom. The others were already halfway down the hall, waiting for the elevator.
Clapping her hands, Kate hurried him along. “Paavo’s probably already started without us,” she pointed out. “Hup, hup! If you want to get something to eat, get a move on.”
“I’m going to wait for Lane.” Remy waved her on. “Go ahead. We’ll be right there.”
“Jer,” she started.
Remy sighed. “Kate, we know where it is, okay? We won’t get lost on the way, I promise.” Out in the hall, he heard the bell ding as the elevator arrived. “Now go.”
The door eased shut behind her, and for the first time in forever, Remy was alone. Blissfully, peacefully, alone. Thank you, Jesus. Taking a deep breath, he let it out in a relieved sigh. “Finally.”
Behind him, he heard the bathroom door open, and his lover laughed. “Finally what?” Lane asked.
Remy turned and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Alone at last,” he purred, giving Lane a seductive grin. “Come here, you.”
Lane crossed the room. “What do you have in mind?” he murmured as he pressed his body against Remy’s.
Running his fingers up Lane’s chest, Remy grabbed his lover’s collar and pulled Lane down to claim a hungry kiss. “Let’s start here and see what happens.”
Just then, the door to their room opened. “Yeah, just as I thought,” Kate said as she burst in on them. “You’ll be right there, isn’t that what you said?”
With a laugh, Lane stepped back from Remy, who glared at her over his shoulder. “Actually, what I said was, now go. So get.”
But Kate held the door open and folded her arms, refusing to budge. “Not unless you both come, too.”
Remy sighed, exasperated. “You don’t understand! We haven’t had two seconds together in forever! Tomorrow’s our wedding, and all I want tonight is a little privacy. Is that asking too much?”
Kate gave Lane a knowing smile. “Uh-huh. You do know you’re not supposed to sleep with your betrothed until after you’re married, right?”
Lane smirked, but Remy wasn’t having it. “That’s old-fashioned,” he scoffed. “Who says that, anyway? It’s nothing but an…an old wives’ tale, made up by old wives who aren’t getting any action themselves.”
“Rem, come on,” Lane said. “I am a little hungry. And that guy probably will eat all the food if we let him.”
“Fine.” Pushing away from the counter, Remy snagged Lane’s arm in passing and tugged his lover after him towards the door. But when they approached his ex-wife, he stopped and asked Kate, “Listen, seriously.”
Her grin faded. “Seriously, what?”
“Can you take Braden tonight?” Remy wanted to know. “I need this, I do. Please.”
“Well,” she drawled.
Remy put his hands together in supplication. “Please. I’m begging you.”
She glanced at Lane, then back at Remy, then sighed and nodded. “Fine, yes, whatever. You’re just lucky you’re cute.”
“Yes!” Remy pumped a fist in the air and leaped into the hallway. “Woo!”
Lane closed the door behind Kate. “Who’s he remind you of right there?”
With a laugh, Kate admitted, “Like father, like son. They never grow up.”
Chapter 14
Dinner took longer than the actual rehearsal did, and between the eight adults, they finished off five bottles of wine and enough fruity cocktails to have them giggling and snickering throughout the meal. Paavo didn’t linger; the minister ate quickly and quietly, moving through dishes with a determination Lane found funnier the more he drank. When Kate had quoted the man’s terms of payment for his services, Lane thought at the time they were very low. Now he wondered if they would be able to afford all the food the minister would consume over the course of two days. He had to admit he was more than a little relieved when Paavo finally rose to leave.
As Paavo said his goodbyes, Remy stood and toasted him. “To our big kahuna,” he cried, rousing a cheer from the other patrons in the hotel restaurant, and a loud round of applause from his own table.
“Catch you tomorrow, kahu lio,” Paavo called, his bulk obscuring the lights as he towered over them. When he clapped Remy on the back, Remy staggered beneath the sudden weight and fell back into his seat. “Aloha, my new friends! Mahalo for the meal, aloha again! See you in the morning for more food, eh?”
“Oh, hey, and don’t forget the wedding, right?” Lane joked.
Angie elbowed him, then giggled into her margarita. “Stop it! You’re so bad.”
Paavo patted her on the shoulder. “No, no, he’s right. I’m only here for the food! Tomorrow, then!”
The rest of the dinner passed in a blur. If asked, Lane probably wouldn’t have been able to recall what he ate—some sort of fish, but was it swordfish? Mahi mahi tuna? Salmon? He wasn’t sure. Maybe rice, or was it couscous? Whatever it was, it had a sweet undertaste to it, so there was probably mango and pineapple in it. Some sort of green, tasteless vegetable, maybe bok choy? As the server brought their dessert, Remy leaned into him and slurred, “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” Lane leaned back, and for a moment he felt as if the only thing holding him up was his lover. Pointing at the colorful cake on the plate in front of Remy, he asked, “What’d you get?”
Remy blinked at the dish. “Um, dessert?”
Lane poked the cake with his fork. “Yes, but what kind?”
“Don’t know.” Remy shrugged, and slid a little down in his seat. He looked at the empty spot in front of Lane. “You didn’t order anything?”
“Only one thing I want.” Lane pressed his lips to Remy’s temple. They were warm and slightly damp against Remy’s cool skin, and left an imprint of his kiss behind when he sat back. “You.”
Reaching under the table, Remy grabbed Lane’s thigh and ran his hand up his lover’s leg. “Right here, right now. Bring it, baby.”
Lane swatted him away. “When we get upstairs. Kate’s taking Brae, so tonight you’re all mine.”
And honestly, Lane couldn’t wait. Apparently, neither could Remy; he wolfed down his cake, something light and airy with chunks of pineapple scattered around it that Lane speared with a fork, then stood and swayed on his feet. “Right, time to go.” He tugged on Lane’s arm. “Up, up, up. Come on.”
It took a while for everyone else to finish eating, though, and longer for them to decide en masse to make their way to the elevator and back upstairs. By the time they reached the eleventh floor, Remy’s eyelids were beginning to droop, and he leaned against Lane
more for support than for closeness. Together they staggered down the hallway towards their room.
When Braden started to follow, Kate caught his hand. “Daddy and Uncle Lane need their rest tonight, sweetie,” she said. “They have a big day ahead tomorrow.”
Lane grinned at the scowl Braden gave them. “I know what that means,” the boy said. “They just want to have sex.”
Kate pinched his arm. “I don’t want to hear that word out of your mouth, mister!”
“What, sex?” Braden asked, innocent.
Remy and Lane snickered. Kate gave them an evil look. “Keep it up,” she warned her son, “and there will be no more video games for you tonight.”
Braden pouted but wisely kept his mouth shut as he followed her and Mike into their room.
Remy took Lane’s hand in his. “Now I have you all to myself,” Remy said, his breath heady against Lane’s cheek. If Lane hadn’t had so much wine, he thought he could have gotten drunk off Remy’s breath alone.
“So what are you going to do about it?” Lane asked.
Remy led him down the hall. It took him a few tries to get the key card into the lock, but eventually they tumbled into the room. Hungrily Remy kissed him, pushing him back against the closed door. He tugged up Lane’s shirt, and Lane helped him pull it off. Remy kissed his way down Lane’s chin and moved lower, down Lane’s throat, along his collarbone, down to one pert nipple. “Yes,” Lane gasped, hands fisting in Remy’s hair.
Remy’s tongue circled the tender bud. He closed his lips over it and suckled it, then licked across Lane’s chest to the other nipple to minister the same attention to it, as well. “Like that?” he breathed, blowing on the erect bud.
Lane shuddered beneath him. “Yes, please.” He fumbled with the belt at Remy’s waist, unbuckling it, pushing his lover’s pants down, then the briefs, to cup Remy’s ass with both hands. Lane squeezed Remy’s buttocks, pulling him closer, and Remy’s semi-hard dick rubbed against the crotch of Lane’s shorts. “Please.”
