Page 86 of Rebel Moon

“They’ve known each other for ten years,” Ivy said.

“And when you know, you know,” I said, flushing.

“I’m happy for you,” Luci said. “But don’t you want your own wedding? A dress. The whole thing?”

I hesitated before answering, thinking it through. “You know what, I do want my own wedding. Maybe a spring wedding in Nashville?”

“Whatever you want,” Ivy said. “I’ll help you.”

“Me too,” Luci said.

I turned to Blake. “What about you? Anyone special in your life?”

Blake seemed startled that the camera, so to speak, was on her. Her cheeks turned a bright red. “Oh, well, nothing really. I mean, no one back in L.A.”

“But here?” Ivy asked, eyes dancing.

Blake turned toward her. “You know, Ivy James, I’m starting to wonder if you’re not a secret matchmaker.”

“Me? Who would I matchmake?” Ivy asked, all innocence.

“You’re so full of it,” I said. “You put Knox and me together all month.”

“I didn’t think about it, but you did the same with Grant and me,” Luci said.

“I’ve been with Beck a lot,” Blake said softly. So softly I wasn’t even sure I heard her right. “He’s, quite simply, a beautiful person. We have a lot in common, actually. It feels as if we’ve known each other years instead of twenty-four days.”

“That much was kind of obvious from the talent show,” Holly said.

Blake flushed a deeper shade of red. “I just wanted him to know that someone sees him.”

“You see him,” Ivy said. “Which makes me super happy. He’s very special to me. And to Jack, obviously. We’ve felt his loneliness at times, even though he never says anything about it.”

“Like Luci and Holly said, I’ll be sorry to see the month end,” Blake said. “I’m going to miss him.”

“I don’t mean to sound patronizing, ladies,” Ivy said. “But there are these new fangled machines called airplanes. Oh, and phones too. You can even talk via video these days.”

No one laughed except for me.

The hair and makeup women finished us up, then gathered their brushes, wands, and kits and headed out, leaving the five of us to help one another into our dresses.

“Let’s get our bride into her dress first,” I said.

I took the masterpiece off its hanger and held it so Ivy could step inside. Her dress was ivory, fitted through the bodice and hips, then flaring low into a full skirt with a long scalloped-edged lace train. Subtle beading caught the light, reminding me of the stars we’d fallen in love with not too many nights before.

We tugged the bodice into place, and I went to work on the long row of covered buttons up the back. Meanwhile, Holly spread out the lace train. The stylist had placed a small pearl-and-crystal comb at the crown of Ivy’s head, placed just right into an elaborate chignon, with tendrils left loose around her face. Just above the chignon, we tucked a cathedral-length single-tier ivory tulle veil, scattered with tiny pearls throughout that pooled past the train.

We all stepped back to admire our bride.

Ivy grinned. “I clean up pretty good, y’all. Where are my boots?”

I brought over the pair of white, sparkly cowgirl boots she’d chosen. Luci and Holly lifted the skirt so that Ivy could step into them.

For a moment, I just stood there, admiring my best friend. She was like something out of another better world.

“You look perfect,” I said, fighting the sting at the backs of my eyes.

“Yes, gorgeous,” Luci said. “My brother won’t know what to do when he sees you.”