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“Am I interrupting?” Lana’s delicate voice sounds from the door.
“No, baby, come in.” Kingston watches her closely as she saunters in, in her wine-red empire waist, strapless dress.
“You look fucking stunning, woman.”
“It’s Lana, I have a name, King Kong.” We all laugh, Kings looks offended for a split second.
“That’s what you call my ten-inch cock, so I’m not complaining.”
There it is.
She punches his arm, and I slap the back of his head. Can he not keep his mouth clean for a hot second?
“You leave us be, so I can fix our bride’s makeup, the ceremony starts in fifteen minutes. We’ll be out soon.” She rushes him out of the room then locks the door. Kingston trying the whole time to grab her ass and steal a kiss—which he fails.
“I saw Trey in the hall earlier, he looked guilty so I think he was trying to get in here,” she says, coming back to me. I don’t doubt he wasn’t.
“Probably. Now fix me up something pretty. Oh, and, L.”
Grabbing the foundation, she turns to me. “Hmm?”
“Tell him or I will.” She huffs and I close my eyes, letting her work on my face. I made my point, and she knows I won’t hesitate to tell him.
“Shayla.” Lana ends our quiet standoff.
“Yeah?”
“I’m so happy for you. I never knew that just a year ago, when we sat in that kitchen bullshitting each other about you not having lady balls, that we would be here now. But we are, and I want you to know that I’ll always be here, through every…”
“Ultimate fall.” I finish along with her, saying it in unison. She brings her forehead to mine and we giggle.
“We were soul mates first, remember that,” she reminds me, and I nod.
“I could never forget.”
Trey
“DUDE, I JUST SAW MY sister and damn, she looks fucking incredible. You, bastard, don’t deserve something that amazing.”
“You’re right, but your sister hasn’t caught onto that yet, meaning today, when I marry her, she’ll be forced to stay with me.” I adjust the final knot on my wine-red tie and button my tux jacket, looking myself over one more time before we make our way out to the beach. Today, I’ll be marrying my little woman on Coronado Island in San Diego at sunset.
I love my w
oman at sunset. What the hell am I saying? I love her at sunrise, when her little eyes open and she yawns, her hair a mess around her. I love her at sunset, when she takes off the mask and shows me her natural self, her real self. I love her in the dark of the night, when she writhes under me while I make love to her, endlessly. I love her in all her forms, at all hours and times of the day.
“You whipped motherfucker, quit daydreaming and pay attention.” He pulls me from my wayward thoughts and I throw him a smirk.
“Anyway, usually brothers give the douche that’s marrying their sister a warning on their wedding day. But due to the fact I already gave you that talk, I just wanted to tell you—” Kingston stops, taking a second to rein himself in.
“I wanted to tell you that I couldn’t have handpicked a better man and created him my-fucking-self, for my sister. You’ve been my brother for forever, that I couldn’t imagine a life where you didn’t eventually, literally, become my brother.”
The smug bastard isn’t crying but his emotion is apparent, he feels these words, just as much as I do. A true bro moment, if you will.
“Fuck, anyway, listen, I’m just glad that I finally get to call you my brother for real now. But that doesn’t change my original threat, you break her heart and I will break your fucking face.”
“I know, me too, buddy. You’re the greatest guy I know; you’re my fucking brother. Love ya, man.” We share a typical man hug, fist-filled and half hugs followed by a slap on the back.
“You ready to go get married, dude?”
