Rebel Hard (Page 70)

“They’re thinking a beach wedding.” Nayna drank in the sunshine outside. “She gets this funny, sweet smile when she talks about it. I think the two of them must’ve had an important moment on a beach.” Ísa had never told Nayna what, and Nayna understood. Some things were to be held close to the heart, shared with only one other person.

Having reached the truck, Nayna got into the back with her mum while her father got in the front passenger seat. The four of them talked easily as Raj drove her parents home.

“We have to finish packing for the cruise today,” her mother said.

Up ahead, Nayna saw her father wince at the idea of a cruise, but he didn’t say a word. Nayna had to fight to keep her grin off her face. It was about time her mother got her own way in their plans. “It’s a week, isn’t it?”

“Eight days.” Shilpa Sharma sighed. “I need the rest and for someone else to cook and do the cleaning and the laundry. I love Madhuri, but she was a bridezilla.”

Then Nayna’s well-behaved mother made claws with her hands, as if pretending to be a marauding bridal monster.

Nayna laughed so hard that she cried—and so did her mother. In the rearview mirror, Raj’s eyes were bright. Her father was actually grinning.

Life, Nayna thought with a smile, was good.

* * *

It only got better as the months passed. Nayna was a bridesmaid at Ísa’s wedding, alongside Ísa’s sister, Catie, and Raj was a groomsman alongside two of Sailor’s brothers and a plus-one. That plus-one was Harlow.

Sailor’s older brother, Gabriel, stood as best man.

The sea crashed to shore beyond the wedding party while sand glimmered around them, the sunshine bright. Color cascaded from the flowers in Ísa’s hair and in the clothing of her guests. Sailor wore a crisp black suit with a white shirt and a blue tie that matched the brilliant hue of his eyes and the ribbon tied around Ísa’s living bouquet. That bouquet featured astonishing, lovely succulents and had been created by Ísa’s soon-to-be-husband.

Raj and Sailor plus his brothers had, together, built a temporary wooden aisle and wedding platform, all of it in a sand-washed wood that appeared aged by the sea itself. Ísa had made the request and Nayna knew why. Catie was incredibly surefooted on her prosthetic legs, but Nayna knew she’d been stressing about messing up Ísa’s wedding by tripping on the sand.

It was also why they were wearing shoes rather than going barefoot. Even on this most important day, Ísa thought of her teenage sister’s happiness along with her own.

As it was, the aisle and platform had turned out exquisite. The men had outdone themselves by putting up four posts and connecting them at the top. That had provided the understructure for gauzy curtains and cascades of white flowers. Ísa and Nayna had done a lot of the decoration with Catie and, surprisingly enough, the Dragon.

With the wedding taking place on the edge of sunset, glass lanterns sat on the sand around the wedding platform, the candles within glowing softly. The seats for the guests were placed on either side of the aisle, simple wicker chairs with flowers woven into the backs. Many of the heavily muscled rugby players in attendance had given the chairs a serious side-eye before gingerly taking their places.

“You look so beautiful,” Nayna said to her best friend as she fussed over Ísa’s halter-neck dress with lace detailing. Ísa’s red hair blazed against the rich cream of it. The lower half of the dress was flowy and floaty while the upper half was as delicate and pretty as spun sugar.

Face glowing from within, an inner peace in Ísa’s eyes that Nayna had never before seen, her best friend said, “I’m so ready to marry him.”

As Nayna stepped out with Catie, the two of them dressed in lovely, simple dresses of sea blue, she felt the same certainty about Raj. He was hers and she was his, and they’d have their adventures together.

His eyes caught hers as she walked up, and the intense look he shot her was unabashed in its appreciation. Beside her, Catie giggled. Nayna shared a smiling glance with her before the two of them took their places on the platform, ready to watch Nayna’s best friend walk up the aisle.

The lanterns shone around them, but nothing could compete with Ísa’s glow—or with the light in Sailor’s eyes when he saw her. Nayna had to swallow back tears, was more than ready for Raj to put his arm around her when they followed the newly married couple down the aisle.

Catie was up ahead with Gabriel.

Raj kissed the top of her head as the guests rained flower petals down on a laughing Ísa and Sailor. “You like this a lot. Regretting our own plans?”

“Six hundred and fifty guests at last count,” she reminded him, slipping her arm around his waist. “No way a beach would work. Most importantly, I get to marry you—I would do it even if all we’d been able to find were avocado-green walls. I just want to be your wife.”

His jaw got tense in that way it did when he was battling strong emotions.

Rising up on tiptoe, she kissed that jaw. “I love you too.”

He didn’t say it then. He said it when they were alone and he was inside her and he was holding her in his arms and her breath was lost. “I love you, Nayna. You could break my heart into a million pieces.”

Eyes hot, she wrapped herself around him as tightly as she could and just held on. And knew she’d have to show her love to him always. He was so strong, Raj, but he had this wound inside him. She didn’t know if she could heal it, but she was damn well going to try. “You’re mine, Raj, and I’m not letting go. Ever.”

They came together tangled in a kiss.

50

Husband and Wife

Not long after that, they came together as husband and wife.

This time it was Ísa who fussed around Nayna, checking that her dupatta was fixed perfectly over the simple coil of her hair—simple, that is, but for the strands of gold she’d had put in. The gold glittered through the fine gauze of her bridal dupatta.

Madhuri had nearly died of cheerful jealousy.

Edging the light gold dupatta was a band of gold embroidery. Her skirt was a deep pink with intricate gold embroidery, her fitted top matched—complete with borders at the bottoms and at the edges of the short sleeves.

Her jewelry was the same that Madhuri had worn—their mother’s and grandmothers’ pieces, along with additions that were gifts from Madhuri and Ísa. And Raj’s ring on her finger. All things that meant something to her.

“You look like an Indian princess,” Ísa whispered, her eyes dancing.

They both laughed at the memory of the seven teaspoons of sugar with which she’d punished Raj. “He keeps threatening to get me back for that.”

“Nayna, meri bitia.” Placing a hand on her head, her grandmother gave her one last kiss before walking out to make her way to her seat at the front table—right next to Mr. Hohepa.

Nayna’s parents told everyone he was Aji’s good friend. The “youngsters’” bemusement caused the two elders huge amounts of glee.

“Girls, it’s almost time.” Nayna’s mother bustled in, resplendent in a deep aquamarine sari with white beading. She fixed Nayna’s necklace, then turned to make sure Ísa’s dupatta was securely pinned.

Her best friend was dressed in a half sari, the color a redhead-flattering vivid purple accented with blues, golds, and even a strip of green on the hem of the skirt. The dupatta, which picked up the accent colors, was made of netting and tucked in a way that complimented Ísa’s curvy form. She wore jewelry matched to the outfit, and hidden under her long skirt were pretty heeled sandals. Mehndi designs marked her palms.