My Beloved: A Thin Love Novella(9)

Twenty-eight separate people, twenty-three of whom Keira had never met before now. With the influx of Hale family members and aunties and uncles that were really family friends or acquaintances, there would have been no way Keira would remember a single name.

This wedding had turned into a gargantuan party Keira knew would be ridiculous and very over the top. She had experienced these types of events before—the glitz and glamour of music awards, industry parties full of ass kissing posers and executives trying to sweet talk her into writing for their talent, but she’d always kept herself back. Being in the center of something like this made her nervous, made her realize how different Kona’s life was from hers. At least, his work life.

The planning, the size of the venue at Turtle Bay, the over-inflated wedding party and the too cute, quite-smitten-with-Kona wedding planner gave Keira a headache; her third, in fact, since they landed on Oahu two days before.

“Suck in, yeah?”

Keira coughed, holding her stomach when the woman with her arms full of white silk—no really, the She-Devil Nya and Auntie Malia insisted on white—squeezed the corset bodice of Keira’s wedding gown together. The corset would be covered by satin ruching and a skirt that looked like something out of Lady Di’s wedding, but without all that 80’s, Royal Family class. Nearly five feet of elegant, hand-stitched fabric made up the heavy train.

Keira thought she looked like something out of Vera Wang’s wet dreams, but without the subtlety or editing. She felt like a cupcake, surrounded in bright white lace and silk and various other adornments that added to the dress’s fifteen pound weight. It was a beautiful gown, really, but Dear God, there was too much of it.

She wanted to kill Kona. Well, she wanted to throttle him, at least.

Him or Auntie Malia, but when the old woman looked up at Keira with a wide, bright smile, her thin hands held to her chest as Keira stepped onto the circular platform in the bridal shop, her anger dulled to a low throb.

“Niece…” Malia said, covering that big smile with her fingers, nodding once when Malaine, her daughter, whispered in her ear. A quick thumbs up and the loud, excited women in the room, at least twelve of them, all related to Kona in some way, laughed and smiled, hugging Keira, ignoring the large bridal shop manager when she tried to wave them away.

“Really, Keira, you look beautiful. Cuz will fall out when he sees you.”

Of all the loud, sweet cousins Keira had met since coming to the island, it was Malaine that she understood most. As in, literal understanding, not some metaphor for unspoken sisterhood between the two women.

Malaine worked as a booking agent at Turtle Bay, planning events all over the island, dealing with a lot of mainlanders. She spent most of her time around haoles. Malaine usually spoke to Keira without pidgin, the comfortable dialect most locals used. After a few days immersed in this language, Keira had picked up a few phrases, she’d even caught Kona’s accent slipping the more he hung out with his cousins, but Keira’s knowledge of the island lingo was still limited.

The dialect was most pronounced when Kona’s family got excited—like the women were then, fussing over Keira, fluffing her hair and admiring the ridiculous gown they’d all chosen for her.

“Pretty Keira! Cuz is lucky. How did he land you?” Keira shrugged, laughing at Lina, one of Kona’s cousins and Bridesmaid #8. “Hmm, longer train is mo better. Maybe you need more silk on the end, yeah?” Seeing Keira’s mouth hanging open, Lina laughed, a good natured sound that had Keira worried and then smiling when she patted her shoulder. “Nah.” Then she pointed to Keira’s face, likely pale and anxious, and elbowed her cousins, all of them laughing at Keira. “Haole cuz look sick, yeah?”

Keira was saved from their teasing when Leann slid into the room, dragging a disheveled, likely jet lagged Mark Burke behind her. The laughter died all around them as the women stared after Mark, analyzing him with careful, sharp eyes until Malaine waved them off. Keira caught the phrase “funny kine” and “best friend,” knowing Kona had told them about Mark and his relationship with Keira and Ransom. She liked that they suddenly hurried to offer him smiles and friendly nods as they walked out of the room. Relaxing at just the sight of her cousin and best friend, Keira watched them step quickly in front of her to give her the once over.

She knew by the smirk Mark tried and failed to cover, that Keira in this massive gown was the height of humor. He took out his phone, held it up at Keira and clicked a picture before she could hide her face.

“You will be throat punched, Burke.”

“Come on, Johnny won’t believe this.” Keira couldn’t help bristling at how loud he laughed, how amused he was at seeing her in this monstrosity of a dress. The idea that Johnny, Mark’s longtime partner, would share in the hilarity did not make Keira feel any better.

Leann held much the same tickled expression, but Keira arched an eyebrow at them both and shook her head once.

“Say a word and I pull out pictures from Cancun 2004.”

Her cousin paled, eyes immediately becoming cold and hard before Mark elbowed her. “She’s lying. Besides,” Mark said, stepping closer to the small stage, “you know we have dirtier dirt on her.”

Keira protested. “There is no way—”

“Uh huh. The year was 1999 and it damn sure wasn’t me or Leann who jumped Trisha Yearwood’s fence, pre-Garth, of course, and dodged her security to slip a demo under her Welcome mat.”