Page 46 of Lavender Moon

* * *

Kaleb

My thumb fiddleswith the ring on Luna’s finger as I hold her hands in mine. I can easily see this becoming my own nervous tick, or a habit I’ll start doing when I’m on edge.

Looking around the room, it doesn’t seem very romantic. It’s very official and clinical with harsh lighting. But Luna makes it beautiful with her brown and purple hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves, and her almond brown eyes smiling serenely up at me. Her dress is pretty. And when I look down, I smirk at the smudge of white paint I see cemented to the pointer finger on her right hand.

“It wouldn’t come off,” she mouths looking playfully annoyed, and I give her a wink, letting her know I get it. In fact, I find it as part of her charm.

We both speak steadily through our instructed vows, though occasionally, Luna hunches her shoulders with a giddy grin, giving her confident words a hint of I can’t believe we’re doing this vibe. I raise her hand to lay a kiss to her knuckles for reassurance, and when the Justice orders me, I pull out the wedding bands I found this morning after a more thorough search through my grandfather’s things. With such short notice, his and grandma’s plain bands will have to do. I inwardly vow to get Luna the ring of her dreams when I come home, and when I’m told I may kiss her, I make it count. This may not be the wedding most people dream of, but I’m going to make sure she never forgets this kiss. I take hold of her face as if she’s delicate China, and lay my lips deliberately on hers, letting them linger before making them move in undulation. The best part about it is that I can feel her smiling, and it makes my heart pound out a few beats of elation, beaming that it’s now in the safest place it’s ever been.

* * *

“Whoa,what the hell are you doing?” I exclaim over my shoulder as I carry her box of art supplies through the front door.

“What?” she asks, holding her hand out in question as the other grips the duffel strap slung over her shoulder.

I quickly set the box down inside the door and then gently place a hand on her shoulder, making her back up a ways before relieving her of her duffel. Once I sling the bag inside the door, I turn to find her standing with her head tilted in a dubious expression.

“Kaleb Shane, are you seriously doing the – ah!” she yelps as I throw her over my shoulder. Yes, I love doing that.

“Yes, Luna Shane, I’m really doing the threshold thing.” I answer the question she didn’t get to finish asking.

“You’re supposed to do it cradle-hold!” she protests from somewhere down by my ass, and she gives it an impressive smack.

“Not my style,” I fire back teasingly as I smack her ass right back, before turning down the hallway in the direction of the bedroom. After setting her down on her feet at the foot of the bed, I turn towards the dresser and strike a match to light the one lousy ocean breeze scented candle I had in the house. Hopefully Luna can give this place more of a girly touch.

Turning back to her, she looks from the tiny flame to me, her lips closed in a beautiful smile as I start unbuttoning my jacket. She reaches for the bottom of her dress before I stop her.

“Don’t,” I whisper gently. “I want to do that job.”

Draping my jacket over the nearby chair, I reach down and slowly pull the flowery material up and over her head as she steps out of her shoes, leaving her in nothing but her lacey bra and panties. One thing I’ve learned in the three days since we’ve reunited is that all of Luna’s underwear is one shade of purple or another. She’ll mix it up with a white or black bra that I’ve seen so far, but all her panties are purple, and I never knew I’d find that sexy as fuck.

Hooking a couple of fingers around her bra strap, I pull it aside to check in on my work from yesterday. Her little purple moon looks fucking decadent against her beautiful skin, and I wonder if she’s noticed the word Mine in slanted letters beneath all the shades of her favorite color.

Marking her was a euphoric experience yesterday, and it brought my already burning desire for her to a new Fahrenheit. The way she trusted me to do something that was painful, knowing I was taking care of her at the same time made my dick hard, but also did something to me deep inside. It was like… in that moment, she became a fixture in my life as permanent as the ink I was imbedding in her skin. Don’t get me wrong, she’s always been important, and even during those three years of radio silence, she was still here; right here in my heart. But she let me put my brand on her, trusting me fully to mark her with a product of my imagination. It was almost like yesterday was our wedding… where she became my person… my life. We’re forever.

Her hand comes up to the one I’m using to pull her strap down, her finger gliding over my grandpa’s band that she slid on my finger earlier. For some reason, it prompts me to bring my knuckles up to her face and glide them down her cheek. While the sadistic fetish in me that she so sweetly indulges is revved from yesterday’s inking, I’m determined to take this slow. Just like our kiss at the courthouse, I want her to have this beautiful wedding night where her husband makes love to her tenderly, making it last.

With my other hand, I reach behind her and unsnap her bra, and we let it fall to the plush carpet at our feet. Backing her up to lay down on the bed, I crawl over on top of her, taking in her delicate features in the flicker of the meager candle light.

“Luna,” I voice in a low rasp. “My wife.”

19

KALEB

“Iknow it’s crazy,” I hear Luna’s voice through the open door of the spare room, aka her new art studio. “We just ran into each other after three years,” she says to her phone screen that’s propped up on her easel before looking away to squirt some blue paint onto her pallet that sits on the nightstand that’s been draped in a drop cloth. We might have to move that bed out of there so she can have more room.

“That’s amazing,” her mother says from the screen. “When was this?”

“Um…” Luna’s dark brows pull together as she concentrates on the math as well as the white she’s now squeezing a healthy glob of onto her palette. “A week ago.” Those eyebrows shoot up as she stares at the task. Unbeknownst to her mom, I’m pretty sure she’s inwardly reacting to how quickly we got married.

She sets the white tube of paint down as I continue to stare, taking extra-long to wipe the grease from my hands with an old cloth. I had just done all the necessary maintenance on my Harley before putting it back to bed in the garage for the duration of my deployment, and walked in to find a vision of a girl, sitting on a stool in dark blue paint-splattered overalls, and it stopped my heart. Luna has taken one of the least sexy articles of clothing and given me a boner with how she wears them over nothing but a sports bra, and her hair is pulled up in a knot with purple strands floating down to cling to the back of her neck.

“By the way, I can see how brightly you’re glowing,” her mom says in a knowing tone. “Did you guys start dating or something?”

Luna does indeed light up in the prettiest way with a shy smile as she looks away from her mom again to apply some black paint to her setup. “Something,” she answers, again hiding the real meaning from her mother before noticing me eavesdropping out of the corner of her eye. “You want to say hi?” She tilts her head in the direction of her propped phone. Her tone is light and holds no pressure, but I feel an odd pull to this part of her life I haven’t gotten to see much of. My interactions to her family have been short, meeting at the drop offs and pickups at camp, but they’re nice people.

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