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When the sun peeks through our window, I still haven’t slept a wink. And only after the warm morning rays start to warm my face do I eventually sink into a restless dream.
“Good morning, princess,” Gabriel whispers, brushing my lips gently with his own.
I hum, trapped somewhere in the foggy space between awake and asleep. I sense him roll out of bed, but I must sink back into unconsciousness because the next time I open my eyes, our room is still and quiet, telling me he’s already left to start setting things up.
I feel a twinge of disappointment as I realize I won’t get to see him again before the ceremony begins. Not that I had anything in particular I needed to tell him, but looking into his intense blue eyes would give me the confidence to know that this day is going to go without a hitch. Well, except for our own, once we’re married.
I stretch luxuriously, trying to ward off the exhaustion making my limbs heavy. At least I got a few hours of rest, but right now, I feel like I didn’t even get that.
“You’re still in bed?” Starla demands, bursting through the door a moment later.
“Ugh, I couldn’t fall asleep until the sun was already shining,” I moan, rolling over so I can crawl reluctantly from beneath my sheets.
Starla’s already dressed and has clearly been up for hours by now. She’s not yet in her bridesmaid dress, and her hair looks like it needs to be done, but her makeup is impeccable. So natural, and yet, I can tell she’s done her best to hide her scar. My chest tightens a little as I wonder for the first time if she’s self-conscious about it. She’s never shown any concern for it before, but the makeup she’s used today would suggest otherwise.
“Well, you were probably up all night worrying unnecessarily. I went by the clubhouse just to see how things are coming along and to ensure I didn’t need to whip anyone into shape.” She strides into the bathroom, opening drawers and banging them closed as she looks for something.
“And?” I ask, my nerves humming at the mention of wedding preparations.
“Gabriel’s over there acting like a drill sergeant. They already had the chairs and archway set up, so I was able to hang the flowers. And they were organizing the tables inside when I left. Debbie was there with a stack of table clothes, so I’m pretty sure all we have to do now is get ready and go.”
“What time is it?” I ask, surprised that everyone is so Johnny-on-the-spot.
“Just after ten thirty,” Starla says, appearing in the bathroom doorway.
“What!” I shout, suddenly scrambling toward the bathroom. I still need to shower and do my hair and makeup, not to mention get dressed, and the wedding’s going to start in less than two hours. I really must have slept in longer than I thought.
“Calm down. It’s fine. I already picked up the flowers, and the boys have their clothes. Gabriel’s getting dressed at the clubhouse. We just need to get you ready and go.” Starla makes it sound so easy.
Throwing my modesty out the window, I strip and step directly into the shower, ignoring the biting cold as I refuse to wait for the water to heat. While I scrub myself clean, Starla curls her hair in perfect waves, then twists and pins a few strands in a simple yet elegant half updo. I debate whether I have time to shave, then decide I have to, even if it means making people wait a few minutes. Rushing through it, I hardly have time to think about how reaching my ankles is starting to become a challenge. My little girl will be coming in the near future, and still, Gabriel and I haven’t landed on a name.
“You dry your hair while I get dressed. Then I’ll help you put it up while you do makeup.”
Starla disappears for a few minutes, and I follow instructions, combing my hair as I dry it to expedite the process. I don’t know how we manage it, but we both manage to be dressed and ready by eleven forty-five. I’m almost on time.
For jewelry, I only have a simple pair of diamond studs, the sole possession of value I managed to take with me from my old life, and only because I was wearing them on the night Gabriel saved me. It will have to do, and I slip on my shoes, glancing around the room one more time to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything.
“Before we go,” Starla says, stepping through the doorway. She holds a velvet jewelry box in her hands, and when she opens it, she reveals a beautiful sapphire pendant strung on a silver chain.
I gasp at its beauty. It’s not exceedingly large or impressive, about the size of a nickel, but the facets of it make the light catch at every angle, and it sparkles.
“It was my mother’s,” she says, and I can hear the emotion in her voice. “If you’d like, you can borrow it. Then you’ll have something old, something borrowed, and something blue.”
I pull her in for a tight hug. “I would be honored,” I breathe, feeling myself getting choked up.
We race to the clubhouse a few minutes later. Starla calls Dallas to ensure Gabe won’t accidentally see me before it’s time. Already the guests are starting to arrive, and I see the warm, familiar faces of the Devil’s Sons and their wives who drove all the way up from Blackmoor to celebrate this day with us. The new members of the sister chapter Gabriel opened are there, too, milling around as they mingle with the seasoned bikers.
I barely get the chance to glance at all the setup, but from what I gather, everything is just as I imagined. Starla rushes me into the residential side of the clubhouse to tuck me away until the ceremony is about to begin. I can hear the voices growing in volume as more guests arrive. I’m surprised to realize that our wedding is a considerable size, filled with people who love us and only want the best for our future.
I feel as though I should be sad my “real” family isn’t here, but I’m not. This is my family, and they’ve cared for me for who I am, not for what I could do for them. For all the struggle and hardship I’ve undergone when Athena and the Blackmoor heirs killed my family and wiped out the future I had planned, today, I almost see it as a blessing. Because I wouldn’t be surrounded by so many kind, loving people, I wouldn’t be marrying the love of my life if I’d continued on as the daughter of Jack Romero, a girl only fit for a bride that might help her father and brother climb Blackmoor’s social ladder.
I can hear it when the music starts, the guests grow silent outside, and Starla comes to find me a moment later. “They’re ready for you,” she says, a broad smile spread across her face.
I nervously fidget with my veil and snag my bouquet. “How do I look?” I ask.
“Stunning,” she says.
I follow her out to the clubhouse, and she slows as we reach the start of the aisle. Beginning her measured procession. I stand just inside the garage door, peering out at the audience as they turn to look and rise. Then it’s my turn, and as my feet carry me between the rows of chairs, all I can see is Gabriel’s smile, his electric-blue eyes shining with emotion that makes my heart beat against my ribs. Dallas, his best man, stands just behind him, wearing a suit that makes him look rather dapper and far more charming than I would normally give him. But Gabriel steals the show in his metal-grey suit that makes his bronze complexion look even richer, his white teeth bright in contrast to the dark colors.
