Belleau, Heidi & Vane, Violetta - Hawaiian Gothic

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Belleau, Heidi & Vane, Violetta - Hawaiian Gothic Page 17

by Belleau, Heidi


  Of course, there he was standing in the shallows, ready at a moment’s notice to dive in and swim harder than he ever had in his life. He returned Kalani’s cheerful wave and watched—still anxious—his labored but steady return to shore. When he’d made it to the point where his feet touched ground without submerging his head, Ori slogged out of the shallows to get them a couple of towels and Kalani his shiny aluminum elbow crutch.

  “Did you see that?” Kalani said as Ori handed him the crutch, threw the threadbare towel over his shoulders, and gave him a brisk drying-off. “I went real far this time! And you thought I couldn’t do it. Man, if I left it up to you, I’d be wearing water wings.”

  “Water wings and a life jacket,” Ori said with a smile, but he was proud. He was so damn proud. Kalani’s recovery hadn’t been quick or easy or without its missteps and backslides, but here he was, pushing forward and making progress nonetheless. “Now c’mon, Michael Phelps, we have a rehearsal dinner in two hours, and I’m not going in my swim trunks.”

  Saul’s old car sat waiting for them in the parking lot, its roof already rusted with surf board runoff. Ori forced himself not to help Kalani get into the passenger side. When he’d climbed in behind the steering wheel and done up his seat belt, he looked up to catch Kalani staring at him thoughtfully.

  “What?”

  “Are you… Are you nervous? About tomorrow?”

  Ori tapped his fingers against the ignition, thinking hard, and came up with a

  blank. “No. Should I be nervous? I love you. This is what I want.”

  “I don’t mean about me, I just mean…everything else. Your dad. Julie.” He could see the pain in Kalani’s eyes, the real motivation behind his innocent question. “Either they come or they don’t come. And…I’m sorry, Kalani, but I just don’t think Julie is. Maybe she’ll surprise us, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

  “Anela showed me a picture of Ruth last week. Said she’s crawling already.” Kalani had never seen the baby, not with his own eyes. The only explanation he’d ever gotten was a choppy text message with phrases like “dangerous influences” and “sexual immorality.” Anela was angry; Kalani was just confused. Ori was thick-skinned enough he didn’t care too much about what his father thought, but watching Kalani twisting in the wind over Julie—that hurt like hell. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

  “I’m sorry,” he said and started the car. There were a million things he could say to try to cheer Kalani up, but this time, silence seemed to fit the best. At the next stoplight, their hands found each other. Kalani’s grip was strong and sure.

  At the stoplight after that, an ugly three-car pile-up kept them trapped for twenty minutes. They tried to use the time efficiently, passing Ori’s cell phone between them. Kalani checked on his college registration status; Ori called the wedding planner and ironed out some catering details. Then horns started blaring, Ori’s cell phone battery died, and an undercurrent of naked panic swelled. They were supposed to accomplish a carefully defined chain of events, and the damn chain kept getting tighter. If it broke…

  “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  “Nowyou’re nervous.” Kalani laughed. “Come on. We’re moving now. Fifteen minutes to get showered and changed—we’re still gonna be on time. Well, probably.” Kalani had learned how to move fast on his crutch, and he proved it on the dash to and from their apartment. He couldn’t walk without it—tremors still struck his right leg at terrifyingly random intervals—but they’d decided not to postpone this any longer. There’d always be many reasons to wait: their endless money problems, Ori’s niggling worry about getting badly injured in a fight and leaving Kalani without someone to care for him, the dropped sponsorships following on the heels of his coming out. Hell, the homophobia that seemed to come at them from allsides (and no, Kalani’s attackers hadn’t been caught)…even the fact the law still called it a “civil union” and not a marriage.

  But only one reason not to wait. Because they were in love.

  The car sputtered into the beach house parking lot and rattled to a halt. Ori unplugged his phone, turned it on, saw ten messages blinking, and started cursing all over again, wondering what the crisis was this time.

  “Come on,” said Kalani, who’d already climbed out. He wasn’t dressed all in white, like he would be tomorrow, but he still looked amazing, shower-slick hair tied back in a ponytail perfectly framing the strong, clean lines of his smiling face.

  “Whoa. One of these is my dad.” Ori called the number back as they walked. “Hello?” he said at the click, tentative and guarded.

  “Why don’t you answer your phone?” his father snapped. “Battery died,” said Ori, falling back into the terse report-style his father preferred information to be conveyed in.

  A loud cough. “All family members, regardless of sexual orientation, are entitled to an environment free from personal, social, or institutional barriers that prevent family members from rising to the highest level of responsibility possible.”

  “What the—oh wait. Does that mean you’re—”

  “Attending. Yes.” Another cough; another click as the line closed.

  Kalani had to turn around and come back for Ori, had to tug impatiently at his frozen arm.

  “You look happy,” Kalani said. “Really happy.”

  “Yeah,” Ori replied. I guess I am. Finally.He grinned. “Why the hell wouldn’t I be? Come on.”

  Loose Id Titles by Heidi Belleu & Violetta Vane

  Hawaiian Gothic

  Heidi Belleau & Violetta Vane

  Heidi Belleau

  Heidi Belleau is primarily an author of m/m romance who likes multicultural relationships, mythological references, urban fantasy, and gory backstories. And smut. Lots of smut. With her collaborator and covillain Violetta Vane, the two have a passion for stories that make readers shiver, sweat and think.

  Find out more about Heidi at http://www.heidibelleau.com.

  Violetta Vane

  Violetta Vane writes sex-soaked urban fantasy, mainly in the m/m romance genre with her collaborator and covillain, Heidi Belleau. They have a passion for stories that make readers shiver, sweat and think.

  Find out more about Violetta at http://www.violettavane.com.

 

 

 


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