My Beloved: A Thin Love Novella (7 page)

A quick jerk of his arm and Kona turned on the girl, repressing the need to scream at her. “Get your fucking hands off me.” His voice was low, but still carried and the girl stepped back from his massive, imposing frame, her gaze veering around the room when it grew quiet and still.

“Mr. Hale, the wedding…”

“Is not your concern.” He took a breath through his nose, trying to get his heartbeat to slow. “You’re fired.”

Kona ignored the calls after him, his son shouting his name, Mark and Leann, his aunties, asking what had happened. He only wanted one thing and she had just stormed through the exit without a backward glance.

Keira loved the sound of the ocean rushing against the beach. It felt like music to her. That low, steady rush of the water wetting the white sand went through her body, straight into her mind. She closed her eyes, leaning against the railing of the balcony in her room, trying to let the music of the waves take her from her thoughts. It was the sound she wanted in that moment—the first time since they’d landed on the island that she had even a moment to herself. All her other time was spent on the wedding, the family, Kona being the center of attention; Kona lapping it up like he needed it to survive.

Like she was just an afterthought not worthy of his time.

“God. I sound like a whiny brat.”

Forehead down in her hands, Keira tried to focus on that sweet sound below her, the cool whisper of wind that licked her skin and dotted the air with salt water.

It wasn’t working. She kept seeing Kona in the distance, miles from her, moving further and further away. In her mind, when she imagined this, Kona was surrounded by patting hands, clinging to him, touching him and his smile only grew the more he was touched, the further he drifted from her.

She knew she was being stupid. After all, this had been her plan from the beginning. She’d let Kona do what he wanted. She wasn’t his mother and didn’t want to be one of those wives who led their husbands around by the balls. He had a life before and after her. Same as Keira. She wouldn’t ask him to give that up just as she wouldn’t want him asking her to leave behind her studio, her work in Nashville, Bobby—everything that was important to her just to be with him.

And yet…

That vision was becoming closer to reality than what was comfortable for Keira. Of course she was still a bit annoyed that he’d left her hanging all day, to make pointless small talk with Leann and Mark while Kona was paraded around Kahuku like some conquering hero returning to collect his hard-won bounty. He loved the attention. She knew that. She remembered that clearly from their CPU days. Even if Kona insisted she be there to kiss him good luck as he walked onto the field or sit closest to the sidelines so he could turn around and wink at her during a game, even with all that, most game days Kona was more excited for the roar of the crowd and the adrenaline that filled him when he heard that sound.

Keira had seen it in the rare occasions Ransom had flipped on the television to a game Kona was playing in; how the camera would catch Kona ripping off his helmet after a particularly impressive tackle to jump into the stands or swing his arms out, head back loving the rush of voices falling over him as he pumped up the crowd.

Kona couldn’t help it. It was in his nature to thrive on that attention. And he wasn’t the only one. It was likely the reason Ransom so loved playing music for his friends or performing well on the field. He’d inherited that love of being beloved, of being wanted.

Keira could wait in the background for both of them while they were on center stage. She told herself she would willingly sit on the sidelines just so they could be happy, feel accomplished. But deep down, she recognized the lie. She would not—could not—sacrifice who she’d grown to be or what she had worked so hard to accomplish just to be the wife of a celebrity who didn’t have time for her.

She would never be that woman.

Seeing Nya touch Kona, seeing the fear in his expression when he saw her watching them, really didn’t bother Keira. She knew better than to believe he’d touch anyone else, especially the day before their wedding. He might be an attention whore, but he was
her
attention whore. She trusted him. He was faithful. But the sight of them together had brought back the memories she’d tried to bury, that constant, irrational fear that she was not good enough for him, that he needed more than she could give him.

“For the love of God, stop it,” she told herself, resting her hands on the railing, then taking in a long breath to prepare herself when the lock on her door beeped as it opened.

Kona’s soft footfalls were quick, racing through the room, likely looking for her, but they fell silent as she spotted his shadow behind her in the doorway.

“This seems familiar.” His voice was cautious, low, and Keira nodded, attention still out on the ocean, knowing Kona was thinking of the night he threw Ransom that huge sixteenth birthday party. Their song, the song that played the first night Kona took her, had sent her retreating to the balcony with Kona following after her.

It had been the first time she’d tasted him in sixteen years.

It had been the night their always started again.

“Sorry, I don’t have a blunt.” She didn’t mean for her voice to sound so cold, so defeated, but the tone had Kona moving, coming right behind her to rest his chin on the top of her head.

That long held fear, irritation, told Keira to turn away from him, to step out of his reach. But Kona was her addiction. He always would be. She squashed that persistent, grating voice that told her Kona didn’t really love her and turned around, back against the railing, fingers behind her on the metal slats as she moved her gaze up his body.

He looked so beautiful tonight, a fact that only fanned her red hot anger from earlier, but there was no denying how tempting he looked—tailored Armani jacket, charcoal gray and soft to the touch that emphasized the wide width of his strong shoulders. This he wore over a crisp white shirt that made his dark skin seem richer, deeper and very tempting. His slacks were fitted, sharply creased and Keira could see the outline of his thick, muscular thighs through the dark material.

She had to blink to distract herself from the sight of him, from how beautiful he was and how delicious he smelled standing so close to her. “Keira…”

When he reached for her, fingers grazing her bare shoulders, Keira curled her arms around her waist, but let her forehead rest against his large chest. “You left me today, Kona.”

“I tried to get to you, I swear I did.”

“I’m not talking about the damn photographers.” She didn’t want to touch him then, didn’t want his scent, the feel of his strong body to distract her. She moved back, arms crossed tighter, and returned to leaning against the railing, putting a good two feet between them. “I mean the crowd, the parade, the attention. Admit it, you love the spotlight, and you love being able to share that with our son.” She didn’t wait for his response, but turned her back on him to stare out at the waves, ignoring his sharp intake of breath. “It scares me.”

Kona didn’t hesitate to touch her, to pull her attention back to him. His fingers were soft, easy as he held her chin and brought her gaze to his. “Why, baby?”

“I’m getting lost in the shuffle. It started before we came here. It started when you turned down Brian’s offer to coach at CPU.”

“I told you about that. It’s only temporary.”

God bless him, she knew he meant it. Kona meant a lot of things when he said them,
precisely
when he said them, but life, opportunities that rose out of nowhere, they often changed those lofty hopes into distant intentions. “It’s not temporary, Kona. It’s your life. It’s who you are. It’s who you’ve been since college.”

Keira didn’t like hearing the groan working from Kona’s throat. She didn’t like how he stepped back and scrubbed his hands down his face like he needed a second to keep his irritation in check. After a long sigh, he touched her shoulders again, his gaze intent, focused hard on her eyes. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Keira.
You
are my life. You and Ransom, you’re my everything, my always.”

She really wished it was enough, his saying those words. But it wasn’t. Talk never would be. She wanted the everyday reality of his words, the practice, not the theory. She wanted him to show her what those words meant. “Stop
telling
me that.” Her voice came out shrill, echoed around them on the balcony and Keira had to squeeze her eyes shut, breathing slow to keep her temper from flaring. “Start showing me.”

Kona’s expression was one of helplessness, defeat. She hated that look. She hated even more that she’d put it on his beautiful face, but she had to get through to him. She couldn’t let how she felt slide, not again, not now.

The air around them dropped, as though the temperature was cooling, preparing for the winter months coming, but Keira thought the frigidness between them had nothing to do with the weather. She felt awkward, uncomfortable with Kona’s steely gaze on her, with him tightening his fingers into fists, then relaxing them as though he needed something to keep him distracted from the distance that seemed to loom between them.

“Do you… do you still want to do this?” His tone could have been a whisper, it almost was, and Keira jerked her attention back to his face, not liking how he wouldn’t look at her or how his voice cracked, as though even saying it tore him apart. “You… do you still want to marry me?”

He sounded so scared, so broken down by the day, by their fight. His voice shook and Keira thought he expected her to say no, to tell him she wanted to call the whole thing off.

She didn’t want to call anything off. No matter what he’d done, how he acted or neglected her, Keira couldn’t imagine not being with Kona, not sharing the rest of her life with him. It would be impossible. Head moving slow, a nod that she hoped told Kona she wanted to be his wife, and his fear vanished, brought him in front of her, his arms around her, picking her up, squeezing her until he relaxed when Keira circled her arms around his neck.

He held her, just like that, her feet off the floor, his hot breath over her arms, fingers up the fine fabric of her black dress, to the scoop that bared her back. She loved how he touched her, how he held her like she was precious. Right then, that’s how she felt—precious, cherished.

Arms tightening, Keira kissed his neck, rubbed her cheek against his skin. “Don’t lose me, Kona. Don’t let me fall into the background. That’s not where I want to be.”

He eased her down, returning her feet to the concrete floor, silent as he cupped her face between his hands. “Baby,” he said, voice raspy, shocked, “never… not ever.”

Wanting to break the intensity of his gaze, to settle the quick pound of her heart as Kona stepped close, Keira cleared her throat, fingering the soft fabric of his jacket with a tiny grin pulling her mouth up. “And the wedding planner?” She made sure she smiled, let an amused tone wobble her voice.

“Fired.”

“What?” That girl might have been snobby and obnoxious and stupid for thinking she could have Kona, but she’d worked her butt off to give him everything he asked for. Without her, there might be some bumps in Kona’s well-planned schedule.

He shrugged, seeming unworried about what disaster might disrupt their wedding. “I left a message for her boss, told him what happened. I’m sure they’ll send someone else in.”

“Another Kona Hale fangirl?”

“Nope. I asked specifically for someone hideous who hates jocks and despises football.”

She nodded, laughing when he smiled at her, not needing to hear him say, “You know I’d never touch her,” but loving him for saying it. Kona pulled her close, kissing her collarbone, licking a slow, hot path up her neck. “You’re the only wildcat I want.”

His lips were full, that tongue so hot against her skin and Keira didn’t stop his attentions, even though they’d decided to stay hands off until after the wedding. “Kona, what are you doing?”

“Can’t you figure it out, baby?”

His voice vibrated against Keira’s neck and she closed her eyes, feeling her nipples harden when Kona pulled her earlobe between his teeth. “I thought… thought we were going to wait,” she said, unable to keep her eyes from fluttering. Kona moved his hand up her ribs, rested it just under her breast so his thumb could flick against her nipple. So he could pinch it between his fingers. “
Oh God,
” she moaned.

Kona didn’t remove his mouth from her neck as he picked Keira up and walked through the room to lay her on the bed. The look he gave her was primal, needy, his chest moving as he took in long, deep breaths. He looked down at Keira like he wanted to devour her. Just that look had her wet, had her laying back with her nails moving under the hem of her dress, showing Kona just a peek of her black thong. She smiled at his gruff growl. “The anticipation…”

“Fuck the anticipation.” He ripped off his jacket, popped the buttons on his shirt before he fell on top of her, threading his grip in her hair and pushing up her dress with his free hand. “Every time with you, Wildcat, every single time I taste you, feel you, is like the first time.” His fingers felt hot, left fire in their wake as Kona danced them up her thigh, right at the thin seam of her thong, releasing a breathy whine against her collarbone. “I don’t need anticipation. I’ve got plenty of it already. Every time, baby, I anticipate feeling how soft you are.” Kona’s fingernail slid under the black silk and he rubbed his knuckle against the soft skin between Keira’s legs. She stopped breathing, waiting for where he’d touch her next.