Refrain (Soul Series Book 3) (20 page)

“Give it to me.” Kai extends her hand for the papers. “I don’t care.”

“You will not sign a damn pre-nup, Pep.” I gently press her arm back to her side. “It’s worthless if you sign it and I don’t, and there’s no way in hell I’m signing it. I’ll rip it in half as soon as I get my hands on it.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Kai clutches both my hands between hers against her chest. “You have a lot of stuff, Rhyson. And your team is just looking out for you. I’d be shocked if they hadn’t suggested it. You and I know.
We
know that the only thing I want is every day with you for the rest of my life. I don’t need anything else.”

Tears glimmer in her eyes, and her mouth trembles.

“You, baby. Not your money. You know that, and I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

“Which is exactly why we’re not signing it.” I cup her chin and pass my thumb over her cheek. “If you divorce me, don’t love me anymore, leave me, the last thing I’ll care about is how much of my money you take with you when you go. A life without you would be a lot worse than losing half my stuff.”

The sound of ripping paper tears my attention away from Kai.

“Oh, fuck it,” Bristol says. “At least I can tell him I tried.”

I smile at my twin sister holding two halves of the pre-nup.

“There’s a tender heart under all that bitch, Bristol.” I take Kai’s hand and lead her toward the door.

“Don’t tell anybody, especially not your lawyer. I have a rep to maintain.” Bristol rolls her eyes. “Come on. Let’s get married.”

When we re-enter the suite, two lines of votive candles form an aisle of sorts down the center of the spacious living room. Ella must have plucked all the flower arrangements in the room to pad the carpet with a trail of rose petals leading to Reverend Mason waiting with his Bible. Bristol goes to stand beside Marlon, looking straight ahead and blinking furiously. Ella already clutches her Kleenex, sniffing before we’ve even started.

Kai and I hold hands and walk down the carpeted makeshift aisle pelted with flowers. The light from the candles makes the gold threads in Kai’s dress shine even brighter. I can’t take my eyes off her, and I can’t believe this is happening.

“We are gathered here today in the sight of God . . .”

Reverend Mason’s words barely penetrate my consciousness. My mind doesn’t wander, but deliberately reaches back to the first time I saw Kai in Grady’s music room. From that first look, she planted a hook in my heart, and she’s been reeling me in ever since. I think my heart would collapse without it now. That hook somehow holds my heart together.

“Love is patient and kind, never jealous or envious, never boastful or proud. Love is never haughty or selfish or rude. Love does not demand its own way. Love does not hold grudges,” Reverend Mason reads. “If you love someone, you will be loyal to them no matter what the costs. You will always believe in them, always expect the best in them, and will always stand your ground in defending them.”

I know it’s a verse from the Bible, but I’m not sure which one. Kai has probably known it by heart since she was a kid. I may not know it, but it perfectly sums up what we’ve been through, and how our love has survived. I want the chance to show Kai I’ll be loyal no matter the cost. That I’ll always believe in her and expect the best. That even with some kook out there possibly wanting her dead, I’ll stand my ground defending her till the end.

“Do you have anything you’d like to say?” Reverend Mason asks. “Any personal vows prepared?”

Kai shakes her head no, but I take her chin between my fingers and speak the vows I wrote for her long before this day arrived.

I was lost before you found me, or maybe I found you

Maybe it was fate or kismet, or something much more true

It could have been an answered prayer, a sacred certainty

All I know is what we have now. I’ve got no plans to leave

Not an ocean, not forever

Nothing wide or deep

Will ever end this love between us

My soul is yours to keep

Tears stand in her eyes for a few seconds before they spill over, splashing her cheeks with the emotion that reverberates between us like a sound wave. After a moment, she sniffs and echoes the vow from our song back to me, her voice strong and sweet. The silence following her words feels almost holy; like a prayer and a promise wed.

“Rhyson Gray, do you take Kai Anne Pearson, to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Reverend Mason asks.

A huge, hot lump fills my throat, and I barely squeeze the words past it.

“I do.”

“Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only unto her forevermore?”

“I do.”

“Kai Anne Pearson, do you take Rhyson Gray to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Reverend Mason asks.

Even knowing she accepted my proposal, wears my ring, and stands here with a white dress and witnesses, I hold my breath. Surely it’s an open secret that I’m not good enough for this girl. That I don’t deserve even a day with her, much less the rest of my life. But do I care? Hell, no. She may be too good for me, but I’m marrying her before she comes to her senses. I’ve considered her mine almost as long as I’ve known her. And when she says those two words, they’ll place a seal over our hearts.

“I do.”

With a satisfied smile, Reverend Mason says the words I wasn’t prepared for.

“May we have the rings?”

“Shit,” I hiss under my breath. Maybe not far enough under enough because the reverend’s eyebrows climb his forehead with surprise and possible disapproval.

“I didn’t uh . . .” I squeeze Kai’s fingers between mine. “I already have the wedding band that goes with your ring, baby. With everything being last minute, I just didn’t think. It’s in LA.”

“We’ll improvise,” Ella says, stepping forward and carefully extracting one of the golden threads from Kai’s hair.

She tears the thread with her teeth and offers each of us half. Kai ties her golden thread around my left ring finger. I do the same for her, nudging her engagement ring up so I can tie my gold thread around her finger. It disappears under the thick platinum band immediately, but I don’t care. I know it’s there.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Nevada,” Reverend Mason says. “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

I look down at Kai, so impossibly beautiful. So completely mine. It’s fitting that there’s no veil to lift. We disposed of those long ago. Nothing hides her from me. And nothing hides me from her. We are open. We are known. We are one. We are married.

We kiss.

I WOKE UP THIS MORNING AS
the only actual Mrs. Rhyson Gray in the world.

Not just wearing the t-shirt. Not just the name I may or may not have scribbled on notebooks and other random surfaces in the past like a lovesick teenager. Not some fantasy I awake from only to find reality so much less.

I woke up Mrs. Rhyson Gray, and it is officially the best day of my life.

It wasn’t the first time I woke up in his arms. It wasn’t even the first time I woke to find him leaned up on an elbow, hair tousled, and his silvery eyes contemplating me, hungry and demanding before the sun was even up. All those things have happened before. But cementing forever yesterday with our wedding ceremony, assuring that all those things will happen for the rest of our lives, that forged something deeper and richer than I thought possible. I know he feels it too. In the morning light, he answered every kiss with wonder. Every touch, with awe. Every moment we bared ourselves to one another felt like a miracle.

And this joy.

Oh, God, this joy is the strongest element on earth. It’s titanium. It is the most fragile thing I’ve ever held. It’s gossamer. It infused every look we shared over breakfast in bed. Locked behind our closed suite door, it drowned out the noise of our fears and uncertainties. It has even electrified my performance.

I haven’t been on stage in weeks, and I’ve missed it, but it’s never been like this. The connection with the audience even seems tinged with this joy. I’m doing what I was created to do with the man I was made to love. I know there is more ahead. I have no doubt when I give birth to our baby in a few months, it will even surpass this feeling. But today, still aching from his love this morning, wearing a gold string under my engagement ring to remind me we’ll have this for the rest of our lives, and performing before a packed house like a woman possessed, this day is pinnacle. It is zenith.

“How You Like It,” my duet with Grip from his upcoming album, set this crowd ablaze. An electric current has zipped through the hotel’s amphitheater since the opening act. The more people experience Kilimanjaro, the more they’re astounded and impressed by their talent the way Rhyson and I were that first time we heard them at the beach festival. Luke solidified what America knew when they voted for him on
Total Package
last season. He’s a formidable artist with huge commercial appeal and the talent to back it up. And Grip. Just wow. Grip is so laidback sometimes it’s easy to forget that in his heart, he’s a poet. That in his soul, he’s an activist. That in his mind lies true brilliance. His lyrics remind us. He’s magnetic onstage, drawing the crowd to him, luring them with his charisma, and then with his talent, feeding them from the palm of his hand.

It was easy to think of this as just a Vegas show, but Bristol outdid herself. Cameras from every media outlet imaginable line the perimeter of the theater. The showcase is streaming online, and millions of people are seeing the juggernaut Rhyson has assembled to launch Prodigy. It’s eclectic, each act so different from the other, but so excellent in its own right. Rhyson has put together something special, and I’m so proud of him as he joins Grip and me onstage when our song ends.

He asks Grip a few questions, and their easy rapport and obvious friendship endears the audience to them both even more. As planned, Grip leaves me onstage with Rhyson to segue into a brief interview before he closes the show.

“So, Kai.” The intimacy of Rhyson’s eyes on me whispers a secret in front of the whole world. “Now I’m supposed to ask you a few questions.”

I nod, a little nervous, but prepared. Bristol sent me the questions beforehand, and they’re pretty standard. What’s
not
standard is having your husband, who everyone thinks is your fiancé, who is one of the biggest rock stars in the world . . . and also the father of your super secret baby . . . ask you said questions.

“We had these prepared.” Rhyson holds up an index card for everyone to see. “But I just thought, what’s the fun in that?”

He tosses the card, and most of my composure, over his shoulder. Wicked glee infuses the smirk he levels at me.

“Let’s go off-road a little.”

The crowd laughs and cheers, probably because my face shows my shock and apprehension.

“So, Kai.” Rhyson puts on his “I’m going to be serious, no, really, I am” face. “Can you tell us why your hummus always tastes like butt?”

The audience explodes laughing. I can’t help it. I give him the evilest eye I can muster before I break down, covering my warm face and laughing through my fingers.

“Okay. Real question this time,” he says. “Tell us the one artist who’s inspired you the most.”

He already knows this, of course.

“I’d have to say Cher.” I’m braced for his teasing, but despite the knowing glint in his eyes, it never comes, so I continue. “I love her stage presence. Love what a complete entertainer she is. Whether she was singing, dancing, cutting up on a variety show, or winning Oscars and Emmys for her acting, she’s always excellent and undeniably talented. And her work ethic is amazing.”

I force myself to stop gushing because I could go on all day about Cher, and I don’t want to hear about it from him later.

His next few questions are a great mix of serious and outrageous. I find myself relaxing and feeling more comfortable talking than I ever have. I love the music, but I’m not actually an extrovert, so sometimes I feel stiff or less than sparkly in interviews. I realize that Rhyson recognized that and tailored the questions to bring out some of the things only those closest to me ever get to see or know. He tailored the questions to the things he loves about me, and it makes the audience like me more. I can feel their perception of me shifting as Rhyson guides them to the conclusion he reached long ago.