Chapter 20
KINGSTON/KATHERINE
KINGSTON
Croatia, three weeks later
The Grooms
Kingston: Happy Wedding Day!
Gabe: are you on the toilet?
Kingston: no. Gross.
Gabe: eye roll emoji
Kingston: i’m in the gym for a full body stretch
Alex: Happy Wedding Day
Kingston: thank you!
Gabe: I can give you a full body stretch
“Promises, promises,” I grumble to the massive mirror and then put my phone down to concentrate on my form. Texting and asanas are not a vibrational match. But it can’t be helped because I’m so flipping excited.
I hold the triangle pose for a count of five before I reach for my phone again.
Kingston: then get your fine ass down here.
When that doesn’t prompt a reply, I turn off the teasing. For a few minutes, anyway.
Kingston: How’s wedding number two going?
A decoy ceremony feels like the height of wastefulness, but I agree with Alex about our safety and security. And it’s not like we’re actually having a caterer prepare a meal for five hundred. Three dots pop up. Gabe’s finally replying.
Gabe: Adrian’s having too much fun with this whole wedding planning thing. I can’t lose my assistant to the brides of Manhattan.
My brows lift as I pull a face. It’s a legitimate concern. The man’s detail-orientedness should be studied at the Ivies.
Alex: Far as we can tell, everyone thinks Katherine’s getting married next weekend at her grandmother’s cottage in Rhode Island.
“Perfect.” I love it when a plan comes together.
KATHERINE
The pop of the Champagne cork fractures the quiet evening. Around me, soft laughter fills the primary suite.
“Oof!” LaShonda giggles, ruby red lips stretched wide, which brings a smile to my face. “That startles me every time.”
The hairstylist twisting my hair into a romantic up-do murmurs her agreement around a mouth full of bobby pins.
Seated in front of a full-length mirror, I glance past the fairy-like make-up artist and her peacock plume of brushes to watch Shon pour us each a glass of bubbly. The spacious suite is stocked with every necessity a bride could need.
“Going to the chapel,” Shon sings, “Gonna get ma-arried…”
The guys and I are not actually going to a chapel; rather, the picturesque patio and garden downstairs is getting a floral makeover right about now.
“Here you go, bride-to-be.” Shon hands me a fizzing crystal flute.
I’m pretty sure I’m made of Champagne at this point after the handful of glasses I enjoyed yesterday, not to mention my nerves buzzing like a hive of bees. Let’s just say my heart is racing and there’s a constant buzz in my veins.
The last twenty-four hours have been a whirlwind as our nearest and dearest flew in from around the world.
There were lots of boat rides out to this private island, and our guests are tucked away in a handful of villas, each more charming than the last. Thank goodness someone on Alex’s team is a whiz with logistics.
“Thank you.” We clink the rims together and share a smile.
“To true love and checking off everything on The List.”
I almost spit out my sip, then choke. Shon and my stylist rush to pat me on the back. “That silly list.”
“Hey, give The List credit. You didn’t settle for less than the best.”
She’s got a point.
What once felt hopeless, silly even, now feels like fate.
As my beauty team finishes with my hair and make-up, the sun droops low in the sky, casting long shadows across the floor. It’s almost time to head down.
I know Gabe and Alex had everyone helping us sign an NDA, which was an added precaution on top of being highly recommended by Mrs. Saint, but I’m anxious to be alone with my bestie so I can breathe. Which is a dramatic way to say gossip.
Unfortunately, the pomp and circumstance remind me too much of my time at The Deb.
Even as my brain tells my body to relax, that this is nothing like that dreadful time in my life, trauma has a way of tightening my muscles into knots.
It doesn’t matter that I’m not surrounded by the most beautiful women in the world and everything about today is my choosing.
Or that my skin is playing nice and I love my hair.
The longer I sit in this chair, the longer the team fusses over my hairstyle, my makeup, and just the right shade of lipstick, the more I want to bolt into the arms of the men I love.
Which is just wild.
Ridiculous.
Frustrating.
Shon watches me over the edge of her glass, gaze zeroing in on my bouncing foot. “So tell me about your dress. What’s your favorite part?”
Bless her. The question dives deep into my brain, chasing away the shadows and bringing the light, effervescent delight I’ve experienced since I stepped foot on Our Wildfire all those weeks ago.
“It has pockets!”
A knock at the door interrupts my excitement, and Shon scurries over to answer it. She says something I can’t hear and then shuts the door, returning to my side with a trio of small, elegantly wrapped boxes.
The white paisley print shimmers in the evening light, as do the gold satin bows.
“Presents for the bride,” Shon says, taking my glass before handing the bundle over.
There’s a small card attached to each box, and my nose tingles as I reach for the first one. What are they up to? Don’t they know my composure is trading at an all-time low? I’m one sweet gesture away from needing a box of tissues.
Beauty,
Add this charm to your bracelet so you’ll always remember you’re the heart of our family. The glue that binds us and holds us together. We’re beyond lucky to call you ours.
Alex
Right on cue, Shon hands me a tissue.
“Sorry,” I croak to the make-up artist who just spent way too long perfecting my mascara.
She smiles. “It’s waterproof.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Shon says as I tear off the paper and pop the lid to reveal a golden, heart-shaped charm with a diamond in it. She’s right there, looking over my shoulder.
“Lovely. He’s got incredible taste.”
“Doesn’t he?” My hands tremble as I try to take off my bracelet. See? I’m a complete mess.
Shon removes it for me and gets to work adding the newest addition, then puts it back on my wrist.
The next reads Princess in a bold, black scrawl.
A little something to complete your outfit, the way you complete my life. There’s no one else who grounds, challenges, and lifts me the way you do.
Gabe
I hand the note to Shon so she can swoon along with me, then run my finger under the tape and peel back the fancy wrapping paper. I recognize the box immediately because it, like the jewelry inside, is nothing short of a work of art.
As I pop open the lid, I get my first glimpse at a stunning bracelet. Simple and elegant but obviously expertly crafted and bursting with diamonds. I run a fingertip along the incredibly detailed flowers and the leaves that form a vine to wind around my wrist.
It’s not lost on me that the pale green stones are the same shade as my engagement ring. Or that the man who’s longed to fit in and stand out would find such a unique and expensive gift. A status symbol, if you will. But also tasteful and thoughtful.
“Keep the tissues coming, ladies,” I murmur, eyes moist with a fresh round of waterworks.
I’m too choked up to say much else, so I hand the box to Shon and let her work on the clasp. Thank goodness she has some dexterity left because the giddiness pummeling my veins is making me wonder how I’m going to function for the rest of the evening. There’s the ceremony. Drinks. Dinner. Dancing.
Shon slips Gabe’s bracelet onto my other wrist, and I hold both up so we can admire the uniquely sentimental gifts.
“Two for two. They’re hitting it out of the park!” She’s totally impressed, as am I.
The last box is the largest.
My Wildfire,
I think I knew how special you were the moment we met, but I was too young to really understand what you would mean to me.
You’ve always been the sane voice that kept me anchored, the cheerleader who encouraged exploration.
You are my rock. The one true constant. My lobster.
My Queen. Thank you for always being in my corner.
Kingston
PS. No. It’s not too much. Yes. Wear it today. It goes with the dress.
Excitement swirls up my spine and over my shoulders as a soft giggle leaves my lips. That last bit reminds me of his text all those months ago, telling me to wear the green dress. He was right. The green dress really did boost my confidence when I needed it to.
And it definitely snagged Alex and Gabe’s attention.
Giddy, I tear into the last package. My brows hit my hairline when I see the monogram on the box. And then, lifting the double flaps, my breath abandons me entirely.
“Oh my…”
“God…” Shon finishes.
My beauty team has given up for the moment, leaving Shon and me to drool over the necklace bedazzling my lap. Outside, the quartet starts warming up, soft notes carrying through the open balcony door.
“This— It’s so—” Sparkly. Heavy. Exquisite. “—too much,” I say, frozen.
Shon gives a disapproving cluck over my left shoulder. “Girl, it’s just enough.”
“It needs its own bodyguard.”
“You have a whole team of them.”
“He says to wear it today.” I hand over the note.
She reads it quickly, then tucks it away with the others. “Of course he does. He’s marking you.”
I glance up at her, brows high in question.
She lifts the necklace from its velvet bed and steps behind me, draping it around my throat. The metal is cool against my skin.
“Didn’t you tell me he has a dominant side? So of course he wants his ice around your throat.” Then she leans close so only I can hear. “Think of it as the world’s fanciest collar.”
“Ohmygod, are you serious?” I whisper-shout.
“Mhmm… so is he.”
She finishes up with the clasp, and we stare at the line of diamonds that circles my throat and dips down between my collarbones, finishing with a hefty teardrop of pale blue-green.
“Seriously doubt that’s a sapphire, sweetie.”
She knows him too well.
“Glad he’s finally using some of that trust fund.”
“It’s just… not like him,” I hedge.
“Ha!” The sound bursts from her lips, and she throws her head back as her hand covers the deep line of her cleavage. “You haven’t been paying attention, girl. He hates the money right up until the minute he gets to spend it on you. Fancy dresses. Priceless shoes. Vacations all over the world.”
She flops into the chair next to mine, brown eyes shining. “A yacht. Are you getting the picture?”
“I think I might be.”
A phone vibrates atop the table among the palettes of blush and eyeshadow. It’s him, of course.
“Kingston,” I answer, giddy and breathless.
“Are you wearing it?”
“I am.”
“Good.” The word drips with satisfaction.
“It’s too much.”
“Show me.”
“What? Now?”
“Mhmm. Come out onto the balcony.”