Chapter 21
KATHERINE
The tone of Kingston’s voice tells me he’s not joking.
There’s just enough firmness, enough ‘try me’, to make me weak-kneed and only too happy to do his bidding.
With my free hand, I clutch the silky robe’s lapels and cross to the balcony doorway.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Shon asks.
I shoot an “I have no idea” look over my shoulder.
A warm, sweetly scented breeze envelops me as I step out onto the balcony, my slippers slapping the floor. The coast is clear.
“What are you up to, King?” I say into my phone.
“Stay there. I’m coming up.” The call drops, and I peer over the stone rail.
On the terrace below, King pockets his phone, then folds his tuxedo jacket neatly and drapes it across a bench. He gives the twisting vine a quick once-over before his eyes meet mine.
“You’re not going to—”
It’s too late. He’s found a foothold along the thick trunk, and he’s climbing.
My insides go soft and fluttery. He makes it look so easy. But that’s what practice gets you: strength, confidence, and knowledge.
If you’d told me all those years ago when he shattered my dream that I’d be having my very own Pretty Woman moment and Kingston Saint would be the one scaling a wall for me, I’d have laughed you out the front door. And then had a pint of ice cream while crying to Shon.
But here he is, making his way up to me. Not via a fire escape, sure, but he’s still very much the lead character. The kind of man authors wax poetic about, if I’m honest. Wealthier than sin but generous, frugal, handsome inside and out.
My fingers find the necklace around my throat.
“Kingston Saint—” My voice trails off as he reaches for the railing.
Eye to eye, his lips pull into a panty-melting grin. His gaze dips to the necklace, and my stomach somersaults.
“You’re stunning,” he says, voice soft but thick with emotion.
“Thank you.”
“Seriously… I might fall off this—” He pitches backward, letting go with one hand.
“King!” I grab for him as he laughs, pulling himself flush with the balcony. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”
“Don’t you mess up her makeup, Saint,” Shon calls from inside the suite.
He smirks, his golden boy good looks almost painful to look at. “How does she know me so well?”
She must be listening because she scoffs. “Let her come back inside and put her dress on. It’s almost showtime.”
Because he’s King and he’s used to doing things his way, he ignores her edict. “Told you that necklace was made for you.”
“You said it wasn’t too much,” I correct him.
“It’s not.”
“It is, but that’s—”
He clasps my cheek in his hand, thumb stilling my lips.
“Do you know why I picked it?”
If it were Gabe asking, I’d say because it’s flashy and expensive. But with King, I never know.
“Because it goes with the dress?” I quip beneath his thumb.
“Three rows of diamonds. One for each of us. And the blue-green reminds me of your eyes.” His hand drops, and he rubs a fingertip down the necklace. “See. It goes with the dress. And it’s exactly enough.”
My breath catches.
He is beyond sweet. So thoughtful.
My nose tingles, and I blink back happy tears as I whisper his name. “I want to kiss you.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not tempting Shon’s wrath by messing up your makeup.”
I laugh as he leans away, reaching for the vine again.
“You could use the door, you know.” I jerk a thumb toward the suite.
But he’s already halfway down, moving like a monkey through the trees. As soon as his shoes hit the terrace, he grins up at me and then blows me a kiss. I pretend to kiss my fingers and blow him one of my own.
“Okay, lady. Enough with this side quest.” Shon appears at my side, then leans over the railing to shoo King away. He shrugs into his jacket and then disappears into the house. “You guys are so bad. Can’t stay away from each other for five whole hours.”
???
I sink my hands into the silky material, still in awe that I get to wear this dress.
The more I look at it, the more I fall in love with all the details.
I still don’t understand how King made it happen so quickly.
Or how it took such minimal adjustments to fit like a dream.
But honestly, when you’re given such a priceless gift, you don’t question it, just enjoy.
Which is exactly what I plan to do.
“Pockets,” I whisper squeal.
Behind me, LaShonda laughs as she zips me up. “What on earth do you need pockets for, girl? You’ve got three handsome men in tuxedos downstairs. They have at least six pockets between them.”
Standing in the primary suite of the lovely villa, I grin like the love-drunk woman I am. The luxurious space is a serene combination of old charm and fresh finishes. Champagne flows freely, and the evening light casts a warm glow over everything.
“You have a point.” I hold my hands out just a little, tugging the fabric from my hips to show off my find. The full-length mirror the guys had delivered reflects my euphoria. “But pockets!”
She chuckles again. “Okay, Cinderella. What are we putting in them?”
I have no clue. Lip balm?
I find myself needing it more these days because of the near-hourly kisses. Zero complaints as King keeps me stocked up on his mom’s magical lip oil.
“Tissues,” I decide. “King’s probably going to make me cry at some point.”
Now that he’s found his heart words and we’re in Croatia, where he can relax, he’s part comedian, part stunt double, and part poet.
“That’s what I’m for.” In the mirror, I see her pluck a handkerchief from her own pocket. King’s mom had insisted she pick whatever she wanted from the new line, and Shon had swooned over the royal blue gown. She waves the cloth square over my shoulder.
“You’re the best.”
Shon gives a little “I know I am” hum as she tucks it away for later and then fastens the clasp at the top of my dress. Neither of us has mentioned the person missing from this room, and I’m thankful for that. No need to let my mother’s presence ruin the day.
Her fingers brush me mid-back as she does up the clasp. “Are you ready for this?”
“The ceremony?”
Another hum, then she waves a finger around in a broad circle. “The three of them. The one of you.”
She doesn’t have to say it. I know what she’s getting at.
“The unconventionality of it all?” My lips curve up because if there’s one concern not on my list, it’s the four of us and our commitment to each other.
So maybe there aren’t any good role model relationships to look up to.
I’m sure plenty of kids from divorced families feel that way.
Hell, I’ve felt that my whole life as I watched all the parents in my circle play musical partners.
“I mean, we had brunch with your grooms this morning.” As usual, there’s a hint of curiosity in her tone but also concern because she cares.
“I could drive myself crazy with superstitions.”
“Yeah,” she agrees.
“I’m looking at it like we’ve already had our bad luck.” My grandfather’s stipulation, my mother’s meddling, the kidnapping. And of course, the tension with Gabe and, long before that, with King.
“Turns out, the only thing harder than telling your loved ones you’re marrying into a foursome is finding a time when all of said loved ones can make it to the wedding,” I quip.
She murmurs an ‘I’ll bet’ as she clips the veil into place. The room is so quiet, still. King’s sisters offered to help me get ready, but I’m glad it’s just me and my best friend enjoying these moments together.
Pivoting, I take in my reflection. The romantic updo, soft make-up and the custom gown. The jewelry. Outside, the sun kisses the horizon, lighting the sky in orange and gold. We’re right on time, and giddiness courses through me like champagne bubbles.
“It’s a good thing I love you so much,” she says.
What a funny thing to say. “Why’s that?”
“Because you’re the prettiest bride in history. It’d be so easy to hate all this perfection.” She waves a hand up and down the length of me.
“You’re my best friend. You have to say that.” I bump a hip against hers.
Shon shakes her head. “It’s because you’re so happy. It like… radiates. There’s no highlighter in the Saint arsenal that could compete.”
“They do make me happy.”
“I know.”
“I want this for you,” I say.
“Three men to train? No, thank you.” She holds up both hands like she’s warding off boy cooties. I grab and hold them while grunting a laugh.
“No. I want you to be this happy. To wake up every morning feeling like everything is exactly right. Like, no matter what, you’re going to get through it together and come out stronger. It’s not just happiness. This is what peace looks like.”