Hawaiian Wedding

Chapter 2-3

As an architectural firm, Anders and Associates didn’t take the lead on grant-funded government housing projects, but they worked with urban planners like Remy’s group to bring a cohesive and attractive package to the table. Remy and his staff wrote the actual grants, but Lane spent many long hours drafting sketches of future designs, providing visual renderings of potential cityscapes that would let the funding committees see Remy’s ideas come to life long before the money was allocated and the first ground even broken on the new project. Though Lane’s wasn’t the only firm JDM Planners partnered with for grants, it had become their first choice for architectural work once the two men began dating. So there were a number of projects Anders and Associates were included in on during the new grant season, which meant that, while Remy and Lane both had to work a lot of overtime to see that the grants were finished in order to submit on time, at least they could spend that overtime together.

When grants were finally handed in, both offices planned a celebration of sorts. They wouldn’t know what projects would be funded for months—and, given the number of submissions, chances were good that several of their projects would be shelved in favor of others deemed more necessary or in immediate need. But the hard work was done, the long hours were over, and both Remy’s planners and Lane’s architects could go back to some semblance of normal, returning to work on projects already under development, funded from grants awarded in years past.

They decided to hold their celebration at a local bar called O’Malley’s, which was a favorite for both of them because it had been the site of their first date. Or, rather, a drink after they first met, ending in a soft kiss in Lane’s car, nothing more, but which led to a lifetime of love.

Or so Lane hoped.

The idea of getting married was a little nerve-wracking for him, if he were being honest. Years ago when his sister Angie got married, he’d come to terms with the fact that he’d probably never walk down the aisle himself because he was gay. But suddenly gay marriage was the “in thing” and every out celebrity was doing it from Elton John to Ellen DeGeneres. Seventeen states allowed same-s*x marriage already. Though Virginia was in the news for rattling the cage a few months after Lane and Remy exchanged rings. A judge had found the state’s ban unconstitutional, but of course, there were appeals ongoing. If things worked out, maybe they could get married right in Richmond and forget all about a Hawaii wedding.

Glancing at his lover beside him in the booth at O’Malley’s, Lane wondered if calling off the trip wouldn’t be a good idea after all.

He nudged Remy with his elbow and raised his voice over the din of their co-workers, who were raising beers and clapping each other on the backs as they shared bar snacks and watched the game on TV. “Hey, you. Come here often?”

Remy grinned and nudged Lane back. “If that’s your best pickup line, you’re going home alone, my friend.”

Reaching over to cover Remy’s hand with his, Lane wrapped his fingers around Remy’s ring. The gold felt slightly warm beneath his touch. “This says otherwise. How’s Chell working out?”

Remy grimaced and downed half his beer in one swallow. “She isn’t. If I had any other option, I’d kick her to the curb in a heartbeat. No offense, but she sucks.”

With a laugh, Lane told him, “None taken. I don’t even know her anymore really. You just said you wanted someone who lived in Hawaii and she fit the bill.” He leaned against Remy, letting the intimacy of their booth hide his hand as he eased it off the table and into his lover’s lap. It curved over Remy’s thigh, angling between his legs.

Remy smirked and scooted closer, opening his legs so Lane’s hand could press against the crotch of his jeans.

“Hm-mmm,” Lane murmured. “And here you are trying to tell me my lines don’t work. Looks like I picked you up no problem, doesn’t it? Already putty in my hand…”

Scooting down a little in the booth, Remy thrust his hips up to push himself against Lane. Through the denim of his jeans, Lane could feel the budding erection stiffening in his briefs. “Something in your hands,” Remy agreed.

Giving his lover a quick squeeze, Lane said, “So tell me what’s up with Chell.”

“Nothing, that’s the problem.” Remy dropped his head onto Lane’s shoulder and sighed heavily. “Two weeks ago I sent her my to-do list. You know, things that need to get done before we get there. Airline tickets, hotel rooms, wedding venue, priest or officiator or whatever you want to call it, reception area, caterer, photographer, flowers, tuxes, cars, yadda.”

Lane laughed softly. “You mean your list of demands.”

“My list of things we need to make this day go off without a hitch,” Remy corrected. “And I scaled it back even. I left all the details up to her like she asked. I just told her we had invited this many people, and we knew at least the immediate family was coming, so we’d need a dozen plane tickets and five rooms—”

“Refresh my memory,” Lane interrupted. “Who’s that all for again?”

Remy held out one hand, fingers open, and ticked off the people they knew were going to be attending. “Kate and Mike and Braden, one room. Your sister Angie, her husband, their baby, second room. My parents, third. Your parents, fourth. And the couple of honor makes five.”

Lane had been surprised to learn his parents and sister insisted on attending, even when the wedding would be held so far away. When they found out Remy was working with an agent on the island, they’d asked if Chell could make their travel arrangements, as well. It was decided they should all stay at the same hotel, for convenience’s sake, and she would book them as a group to cut costs. Lane and Remy had discussed it at length, and had decided that they would foot some of the bill from their families’ travel expenses as a holiday surprise. Going through Chell then made everything easier—she would charge their credit card, and they would turn around and pass on a smaller portion of the actual cost to their families. Lane had a credit card with a ton of reward points saved up on it that he could cash in, too, to help with the expense.

“So she has your list,” Lane said, sipping his beer. He signaled the bartender for another round, then grabbed a handful of Chex Mix to munch on. They were waiting for chili cheese fries, which should’ve been out already, but the bar was packed for a Wednesday night, thanks to the number of rowdy planners and architects filling the place. Patting Remy’s thigh, he told his lover, “Not everyone has the same sense of urgency you do, hon. The wedding’s eight months away. I’m sure she’s hard at work—”

Remy sighed again. “That’s just it. She isn’t.” At the look Lane gave him, he explained, “When the first week went by without a response, I resent the email and was like, did you get this? A few days later, when I still hadn’t heard anything, I dug out the first message she’d sent with her contact info and called her cell.”

“And?” Lane grinned. “Let me guess. She was at the florist picking out roses for the arrangements and wanted to know if you wanted red or white.”

Remy’s face soured. “No. She was at someplace called the Pipe where she said there was a gnarly surf competition underway and she’d be there for the next month and a half.” He widened his eyes in disbelief, so annoyed at the thought of Chell going about her daily business when he obviously had work he wanted her to do. Lane had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. “What the hell, man? Then—then! Then she wanted me to send her a thousand dollars so she could start working on the list I sent her, because she’d spent all her cash on the entry fee for the competition!”

Lane frowned hard, trying not to smirk. “What’d you tell her?”

“I told her hell no!” Remy’s voice turned shrill enough to make several people glance in their direction.

Lane squeezed his leg and Remy calmed a little. “I told her to have the vendors invoice me,” Remy said. “I’m not giving her squat over and above her personal fee because I already know she’ll throw it away on surfing and who knows what else.”

Fortunately at that moment the bartender arrived with their fries and Lane’s second beer, and Lane didn’t have to respond. He didn’t know what he would’ve said if he had. He suspected Remy was right.