Page 187 of Blue Moon

It was a small wedding. Just the two of them with Knox and Caro as witnesses, Reverend Elvis officiating, and Kacie, Shani, and Luna’s four backup dancers as guests. Luna had agonised over whether to invite Jubilee, but in the end, it was a moot point. With Amethyst on a court-ordered anger management course, Jubilee had taken a job as personal assistant to a travel blogger, and she was somewhere in the Mediterranean. No word on whether her boyfriend had paid back any of the money she’d lent him.

The ceremony took place in a quiet corner at the Black Diamond, out of sight of the media, who were camped on the sidewalk in front of either the Nile Palace or the Nebula, depending on who their sources were. Fans had spotted the ring Luna wore on stage last night, and the internet had gone into meltdown. To assist, Braxton Vale had “accidentally” let slip that there would be a hush-hush event at the Nebula today, while Romeo Serafini had put in a rush order for a wedding cake and flowers.

All Luna had wanted was a white dress and a ring, but her friends had rushed around to make things special. Venus and Aisha did her hair and make-up, Paul offered to play photographer, and Luis organised flowers for her bouquet, pink of course. Caro had found the dress, while Kacie made a collar and tie for Rocky. Knox helped with the ring shopping.

When Emmy heard the news, she’d put Ryder’s dress uniform in the smaller of Blackwood’s two jets along with a vintage sapphire necklace that would cover “something borrowed” and “something blue.” She’d also sent a warning: do not mention the word “wedding” to Bradley, or he’d be on the next flight out.

In a twist nobody saw coming, Luna decided to wear the Cleopatra earrings as “something old.” Hebert had written to her last month, apologising for his actions and begging for her forgiveness. She’d granted it. He was still in the hospital, but Emmy said Carole-Ann Murray visited him regularly.

As for “something new,” Luna wouldn’t tell Ryder what she’d chosen for that, so he figured it was underwear. He didn’t plan on her panties lasting long, but he’d buy her as many replacement pairs as she wanted.

He had to pinch himself when Luna appeared. Her dress was a simple sheath of white satin, but her smile lit up the room. Her father was who-the-fuck knew where, so Knox and Luis walked her down the aisle, one either side, and when she got to Ryder, she stood on tiptoes, kissed him on the lips, and whispered, “You look so hot.”

Elvis cleared his throat. “Ma’am, we didn’t get to that part yet.”

Five minutes later, they were man and wife, and this time, it felt right. When Ryder said “I do” to Shylah, he’d regretted it almost immediately, but all he felt when he looked at Luna was love. Love and anticipation for what the future would bring.

A new home, career changes, kids… They’d do it all together.

EPILOGUE - LUNA

Wow.

Ryder had said Emmy Black’s home was big, but this…this was more like a castle. My whole Vegas mansion would have fit in the ballroom. Actually, it wasn’t my mansion anymore. Mom and I had finally reached an agreement, or rather our lawyers had. She’d keep the house, and I’d get Stargirl. Which meant I’d keep my royalties, my masters, my trademarks, and all of my copyrights, and those meant more to me than a property I’d have sold anyway.

The Richmond house was smaller, but there was still plenty of space, even with five of us living there. Not that I’d seen much of Slater. He’d joined us for dinner on my first night in the city, then disappeared until he showed up at the party tonight. Knox and Ryder were around when they weren’t out saving the world, and Caro had been working from home to keep me company.

I’d barely stepped over the ballroom’s threshold when a man rushed over and crushed me in a hug. Turquoise hair and sneakers, gold jumpsuit, no boundaries…

“You must be Bradley?”

“OMG, how did you know?”

Because literally everyone had warned me about him. Emmy had sent an email apologising for the party before I even received the invite. Bad taste, she called it, but it was okay. I didn’t have PTSD, not from the Egyptian stuff. No, the real trauma had come from Julius, and Mark Antony had taken care of that problem for me. The goat-milk bath and the House in the Woods? That was just a story I’d tell my grandkids someday.

“A lucky guess.”

Bradley held my hand up to the light and examined my rings, the pretty solitaire diamond and the plain wedding band. The designs had been dissected online and deemed “boring,” but I loved the simplicity of them. Just as I loved the man who’d put them on my finger.

Ryder was at my back, and Bradley took a step to the side to study him.

“Didn’t you read the invite? Where’s your costume?”

“I have hieroglyphics on my T-shirt.”

“Well, that’s a cop-out. At least your wife understood the assignment.”

Phew, at least my thigh-length toga dress passed muster.

“How is what you’re wearing Egyptian?” Ryder asked.

“If the pharaohs had lived in the twenty-first century, this is totally what they would have worn.” Another man approached, this one dressed in a linen kilt, a beaded necklace, and leather flip-flops. Bradley slipped an arm around his waist. “This is Miles.”

Not quite what I’d been expecting. Emmy had told me he was super dull. But I’d been looking forward to meeting him because she also said he’d helped in my rescue.

I held out a hand. “Luna Metcalfe, and this is my husband, Ryder.”

It felt so good to say that.

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