Island Love Songs. Kayla Perrin
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“Get a room,” Roy’s older brother, Lance, teased. But even he was holding his wife’s hand.
Melanie watched as Richelle snuggled close to Roy, then as Lance slipped both arms around Lisa from behind. It was as if just being here had quickly transfixed the two couples with a spell of romance.
Melanie couldn’t help but feel slightly wistful. Here she was in Fiji for Richelle’s wedding, a place that seemed to ooze an aura of romance. It was hard to forget that just nine months ago she herself had been scheduled to walk down the aisle. Nine months ago, on a bright September morning, she had gotten dressed up in her beautiful white gown, had gone to the stylist to get her hair and makeup done, and Richelle had been by her side, telling her that the day would go marvelously well.
But the wedding never happened. Melanie hadn’t been able to go through with it. En route to the church, she had suddenly been seized with the fear that her marriage was doomed to fail, and no matter how Richelle and her bridesmaids had tried to convince her that she simply had the pre-wedding jitters, Melanie had ultimately instructed the limo driver to turn around and drive her back home.
Richelle and the bridesmaids had gone on to the church, where they’d told Melanie’s parents her decision. And instead of seeing their only daughter married, her parents had had to break the news to the groom and wedding guests that she wouldn’t be showing.
“Beautiful place, isn’t it?”
Jarred from her trip down memory lane, Melanie spun around to see Edward standing behind her. “Um, yeah,” she agreed. “Gorgeous.”
“I love the still of the morning, don’t you? No sounds of traffic. Just chirping birds and flowing waves.”
“And the beautiful singing,” Melanie added. She looked toward the trio of singers, where Edward’s sister, Virginia, was shaking her heavy body to the beat.
“And the singing,” Edward acknowledged. “We’re definitely a long way from New York.”
“Go get your necklace,” Melanie told him.
“Oh, right.”
When he walked away from her, Melanie went back over to Richelle and Roy. “We don’t have to wait here for our luggage, right? The hotel staff is going to bring it to us when it arrives?”
“Right,” Roy said. “All we have to do is check in.”
“Then let’s do that. It’s barely after six in the morning, and I can’t wait to take a long nap.”
They all began to walk toward the hotel’s main building, which Melanie could see was at the end of the path they were on. After a few seconds, Richelle came beside her and said, “Hey, why do you look so glum?”
Melanie faced her, forcing a smile. “How could I feel glum in a place like this? This is incredible. I’m just exhausted. We left New York Tuesday afternoon. And now it’s Thursday morning.”
“I know,” Richelle said. “Quite the adventure getting here, but it’s totally worth it.”
“I just hope the beds are comfortable.” As if to emphasize the point that she needed rest before doing anything else, Melanie yawned.
Until Richelle and Roy’s wedding on Sunday, in just three more days, Melanie and Richelle would be sharing a room. Then Richelle and Roy would move into a honeymoon suite, which was a private bungalow on the beach.
They didn’t have a schedule for today, other than to arrive, relax and recuperate from the jet lag. Tomorrow, for most of the afternoon, Melanie and Richelle were scheduled for time at the spa. After that, there would be a dinner for all the family and friends who had come for the wedding. And the next day, Roy and Richelle would become husband and wife.
“Have you ever seen a lobby like this in your life?” Melanie asked once they reached it. It was like a giant hut, with walls that doubled as the roof, angling on each side and coming together to form an upside down V. The walls didn’t quite hit the ground, allowing a breeze to flow in from beneath them. There were no doors. The path from the dock simply led straight through to the lobby. It was a truly open concept type of building, blending with nature.
There were beams beneath the roof structure to give it support, and lighting fixtures that hung from the beams. The exterior of the roof was covered in straw, giving the place a true rustic island feel.
Had the resort in Aruba where she and Lawrence had planned to honeymoon been this beautiful? Melanie wondered.
“Hey, something’s wrong,” Richelle insisted, moving to stand in front of Melanie before they reached the front desk. “Talk to me.”
“I already told you, I’m tired.”
Richelle shook her head. Then she led Melanie to a chaise with red cushions near the wall, while the rest of their travel party headed to reception. “You’re thinking about Lawrence, aren’t you?”
“Of course not,” Melanie lied, forcing a smile.
“Mel, you don’t have to lie to me.”
Richelle knew her too well. “Look, this trip isn’t about me. It’s not about my failed relationship. This trip is about you. You and Roy. How you finally found the man you were meant to spend your life with. And how you’re going to have the most amazing wedding ever, in this paradise.”
Richelle beamed from ear to ear. “I am, aren’t I?”
“Of course you are.”
Richelle drew in a breath. “I just—I can’t believe this is actually happening. That only six months after being devastated by Vern, I found my Mr. Right. Who knew that Vern cheating on me would be the best thing to ever happen to me?”
Four months before Melanie was to marry, Richelle herself had already had a date set to walk down the aisle. But a couple weeks before the wedding, she had discovered that her fiancé had been cheating on her. Not that he had cheated once, but that he’d carried on a long-term affair. The news had crushed her, naturally, and the engagement had been called off. But after allowing herself a few months to grieve, Richelle quickly got back in the saddle and started dating. Having created a profile on an online dating site, she was determined that fate was going to deal her a better hand.
And maybe it was that belief, that confidence, that faith, that had led to her finding Roy. Only as fate would have it, she didn’t meet him online. She met him while trying to hail a cab outside a restaurant in Soho. And it was more like hate-at-first sight rather than love, considering they got into a little spat over who had hailed the cab first. Roy had acquiesced on one condition—that Richelle would take his number and call him.
Which Richelle had no plans to do until the colleague—whose birthday she’d been attending at the restaurant—had encouraged her. What did she have to lose?
And from their first date, Richelle had known. So had Roy. The two became a couple after that night. Roy hadn’t told her until their third date that he was a recently retired NFL player. The fact that Richelle had been clueless as to