SeraI spun into the middle of the dance floor with a glittering drink in my hand and laughter on my lips. My tight, fitted white minidress caught the light and shone. The rest of my bachelorette party flocked to me like moths to a flame as the beat rattled through my towering heels.Paige glowed in a deep purple number she admitted to buying for the occasion to complement my dress, several-hundred-dollar proof we were actually friends, and she hadn’t said yes to joining the bridal party because she felt bad or something. Olivia danced slightly off rhythm because she kept glancing over her shoulder at Patrick against the wall, who could barely look away from her. Fiona and Joyce grabbed each other’s hands and swayed like cousins at a family wedding, but their brilliant smiles nearly outshone the strobe lights. Penny, in one of the most scandalous dresses I’d ever seen her wear, shimmied like I didn’t know part of her mind was worrying about Michael at home. And at the edge of the grou
KillianI sat at a mirrored dressing table Sera had actually been right that I would need and adjusted the sides of my tie. She’d insisted that, to commemorate the special occasion of our wedding, I had to wear something other than black or gray. I’d assented to a tie in the deep blue-violet Sera had chosen for the main wedding color. Apparently, it contrasted the flowers but didn’t clash.“Looks uneven,” Tommaso said as he sauntered into the room.“I’ve been tying my own tie for forty-three goddamn years—”“Forty-four,” he corrected. “You forgetting how old you are now?.”I turned back to the mirror, away from my best man. I shook my head at him. “I wasn’t tying ties when I was a baby.” Today was also the anniversary of my father’s death, after all. The man who’d taught me how to tie the ties I’d been wearing all my life. He’d raised me to be the man I was before Sera. Mano Della Morte, running Philadelphia with an iron fist. Vividly, I remembered being sent home from kindergarten f
SeraIn the upstairs dressing room I had constructed as part of the wedding planning process, I sat in front of a professional makeup artist like I had for the last hour. My neck ached, the cute, poofy chair had grown uncomfortable, and I really wished I’d eaten another croissant before I let her put on my lipstick.I’d never been happier in my whole life. All the women from my bachelorette party fluttered around the room, fixing small stains or finding bobby pins or, in Joyce’s case, reattaching the heel to a shoe. Helping each other. Emma had made a girl-pop playlist that she’d presented to me shyly last night, and I’d thrown my arms around her and demanded we play it all morning, so bubbly synthetic guitar poured through the space.“Done.” The makeup artist stepped back.I blinked, rubbed my neck, and started to look at myself in the mirror.“Not yet!” My mother pushed herself between me and the mirror before I could see everything. “Oh, Sera, you’re so beautiful.” She hugged me ca
PaigeMusic rolled through the garden where the reception was being held, and I put all of my increasingly blurry thoughts toward not itching the point on my ribs where the zipper of the bridesmaid’s dress dug in.“You look like you’re focused on something pretty hard.” Tom smiled down at me as we swayed through a slow song.I shook my head, but giggles overwhelmed me. He caught me before I nearly toppled off my heels.“Whoa!” He grinned and lowered me into a dip that made my stumble look intentional. “Enjoying the open bar, then?”“Yes!” I cupped his face. “Have you been? They have these signature cocktails, and Sera’s is sooo good.”He laughed. “I took you the last three times, so I’d say I’ve been.”My memories floated back together. “I knew that. I was testing you.”Tom eased me out of the dip. “Have you maybe drank enough before dinner?”I shook my head. The more I drank, the more I forgot about the zipper. The dresses were so gorgeous, but I’d missed the last fitting for an emer
KillianI held Sera close and danced through the garden of the house I’d grown up in, tracing steps I’d learned ages ago watching my mother and father. The strains of the last song colored the night air, something bittersweet I’d picked out. Just one more chorus, and I’d whisk her away. Just like that first night, except she was just as desperate to leave with me. I memorized every element of her face. The soft pink lipstick she’d picked because it promised to be kiss-proof, dulled in the middle and smeared outside her lips. The locks of soft brown hair tumbling out of her updo. The tantalizingly short hem of her reception dress that she kept smacking my hands away from, reminding me I’d promised to wait until the wedding ended.“I love you,” I said.She laughed. “I love you, too.”Our friends swirled around us, planets in orbit telling the story of our time together. Patrick, red-faced, held a grinning Olivia. As much as he struggled, I didn’t doubt he’d find the courage in him to ma
TommasoAfter Killian and Sera left, I expected we’d say a few goodbyes and head out. I’d sort of planned on it, actually. But instead, Paige sat down at the head table with Lauren and a couple of the bridesmaids. The bar closed, and the band left, but someone started playing music from a speaker, and champagne appeared from somewhere. The reception quickly started turning into an after-party.I paced back and forth on the edge of the dance floor and tried not to be a dick. Paige was smiling. She was clearly having a great time, and whatever she was saying made her little audience crack up. But fuck, it wasn’t that unfair to expect a party to end when it ended instead of dribbling into another party, was it? I checked my watch for the umpteenth time and looked at her again.She caught my gaze. The smile on her face evaporated. Fuck. She said something to the people around her, then strode through the remains of the reception over to me.“What’s your deal?” she demanded.I swallowed an
SeraI blinked awake in my airplane seat and found Killian still dozing next to me. He’d sworn up and down he didn’t need comfortable clothes for the flight, that he was used to flying in a suit, but I’d made the right call forcing him to change. The T-shirt rode up, exposing a sliver of his toned stomach, and the thin shorts left little to the imagination. Desire stirred within me. I’d wanted to wait until our proper honeymoon, our new life together, started. I’d wanted to christen the villa with our first married sex. I glanced out the window and saw nothing but dark water. We’d left America.Our honeymoon had definitely started by now.I ran my hand over Killian through his shorts, and his eyes opened almost immediately.“I thought we were waiting.”I smiled playfully. “I’m done waiting.”He growled and stood then lifted me out of my seat and carried me to the bedroom at the back of the plane without another word. I craned my neck to kiss him, and he didn’t even pause. The door sli
PaigeI floated back to consciousness and the definite feeling I was moving. My head ached. I was warm, and a little sticky, and the goddamn zipper still dug into my side. I remembered the bouquet, Tom’s smile, and then…nothing.“Why the hell is the world moving?” I groaned with my eyes still closed.Tom chuckled from nearby. “We’re on the jet.”“What?” I shot up and opened my eyes, then winced. Headrush. We were definitely on the jet, though. Plush leather seats, seatbelts, overhead compartments. But the night sky outside didn’t give me any further details.Tom rubbed my back. “I brought spare clothes for you if you want to change. And there’s coffee. We’re landing before too long now.”“Where the hell are we going?” I demanded. “I can’t remember.”He smiled indulgently. “You can’t remember because I’m not telling you.”My mouth fell open. “Why not?”“It’s a surprise.” He kissed the corner of my mouth. “I’d say you agreed to stop asking, but I don’t think you’d believe that.”“Damn r