Star Crossed (37 page)

A.J. couldn’t help noticing her mother had to tug down her hem. Good Lord, had they been going at each other in the hallway?

“Please tell me you and Zack are on a break,” she murmured when they embraced.

Her mom looked startled. “I— Zack and I broke up, sweetie. I didn’t mention it before because I didn’t want to put a damper on planning your and Luke’s big day.”

A.J. supposed she bought that. Her mom was usually principled. She hugged her father with less stiffness. “Wipe your cheek,” she warned. “You’re wearing Mom’s lipstick.”

He laughed and scrubbed at the spot. “I told your mother we couldn’t keep this from you.”

He looked so happy it worried her. What if this second shot at romance blew up in their faces? Her dad was tough, but losing Valerie once had nearly destroyed him. Her mom wasn’t likely to enjoy a second failure either. Her dad still worked a dangerous job. Had her mom truly changed enough to accept that?

Leave it alone
, A.J. told herself sternly.
Your parents are consenting adult grownups.

She mustered as bright a smile as she could paste on. Her dad shot her dubious side-eye, but her mom seemed to take the expression at face value.

“Wonderful,” she exclaimed. “We’re all here. I’ll check in on Judge van Houghton and see if he’s ready.”

“Could I have a minute with you while she’s doing that?” Parker asked.

A.J. glanced at Luke, who squeezed her arm and smiled. “Go ahead. I’ll wait here till you’re done.”

Her dad led her out of earshot to the apparently still-functional shoeshine stand. The high wooden seats were old school, the $15 price not so much.

“What’s up,” she asked when he looked uncomfortable.

“Okay,” he said. “Maybe I should have asked you this before, but I couldn’t decide, and this is my final chance.”

“To ask me what?”

He rubbed his chin. “Are you certain you want to marry an actor? Don’t get me wrong. I like Luke. Probably I owe him on account of not believing he was in danger all those years ago. You’re my kid, though, and this is a different world. Hollywood people aren’t what you’re used to.”

This didn’t trouble her, but it took a second to figure out how to convey that to her father. She thought of Vivi Danielson, daughter of the heartland with her mitten fixation and screwed up mind. “Realistically, Dad, people can be ‘different’ no matter where you live.”

He let out a small dry laugh. “I suppose they can, and I suppose that proves you’ve got your head on straight. Maybe it’s silly, what with our ups and downs, but I still think of you as my baby girl.”

“That’s not silly. It’s nice. And, yes, I’m sure I want to marry Luke. I love him, Dad, more than I knew I was capable of loving anyone.”

He cleared his throat to collect himself. “Okay, I’ll smooth the path for you to transfer to the LA branch.”

Oh boy
, A.J thought. He wasn’t the only one who’d put off mentioning something important. “About that, Dad . . . Two Dudes’ security chief is retiring in a year. He’s going to train me on the ins and outs of working on movies. For the next little while, we’ll be living in Vancouver.”

“Vancouver!” She’d taken him by surprise. His astonishment and dismay rang clear.

“I know I should have told you. I— I’ve loved working for you, Dad. I’ve learned so much, and you’re an awesome boss. I guess I didn’t know how to break the news.”

“It’s . . . all right,” he said slowly. “I mean, it makes sense. If Luke is filming there, you wouldn’t want to be far apart.”

“I think the position might be fun,” she added. “Once I learn what’s involved.”

“I’ve no doubt you will.” He pointed at her with his finger. “Just promise you won’t steal Martin to follow you out there.”

“I couldn’t steal Martin. He’s your partner.”

Her dad pulled a face, so maybe he knew about Martin’s torch. “I
would
let you steal Szymanski if he wanted. He’s always saying Mrs. S wishes she could travel.”

“Really?” she said, intrigued by that idea. It’d be great to have someone she knew with her on the job.

“Really,” her dad assured. “And now we’d better get back. Your mother’s starting to crane at us anxiously.”

An impulse she couldn’t squelch compelled her to touch his arm. “Dad. About you and Mom . . . You’re going to be careful, aren’t you? I don’t want to see either of you get hurt.”

Wonder unexpectedly filled his eyes. “Well,” he said. “You and I really have come a ways. I’ll be careful, sweetie. I don’t want to see us get hurt either.”

He kissed her brow and gave her a little squeeze.

When her nervousness shot through the ceiling, it wasn’t because of him. It was because she knew the time to change her life forever had arrived.

Fortunately, the ceremony in the judge’s chambers was businesslike—no fussy vows to stumble over, just the straightforward phrases in van Houghton’s boilerplate. A.J. hardly cared what she said. She knew the promises her heart was making.

When Luke said
I do
, he grinned with delight.

She might have too, to be honest.

The judge told them they could kiss. They touched lips in the officially mandated PDA. To A.J.’s surprise, she felt rather lifted out of herself. They were married. The man she loved with every atom of her being was her husband.

Luke’s hands remained twined loosely behind her waist. “That was perfect,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

A.J. couldn’t help it. She was so thankful she beamed at him.

*

Luke threw their day-after-the-wedding party at Mayfair. Destined to be remembered as one of his most stellar productions, it was his last big blowout before they leased the place and moved to Hollywood North. The food was great, the band nicely raucous, and everywhere he looked people he knew and appreciated were having fun.

He’d kept the crowd medium-sized to preserve A.J.’s sanity. Everyone was a friend and not an acquaintance, though admittedly he had a lot. Guests came from Galaxy and Two Dudes: crew, actors, people he’d met at charity events and award shows. His ritzy neighbors, of course, plus some folks he still liked from his modeling days. He’d even invited some media, ones who weren’t piranhas. Any friends A.J. wanted at the party, he’d flown out. He’d already met Tanisha and her sister, plus A.J.’s doctor friend, Nigella, and her teenage daughter Bree. The girl was awestruck at first but recovered enough to ask if Luke was as good a kisser as he seemed in the movies.

“Better,” A.J. had answered, but not like it was a good thing. She’d turned to regard him with comically narrowed eyes. “It’s practically his secret weapon. Promise your mother you’ll stay away from boys who kiss like him for another year or two.”

The girl had giggled and exclaimed “Aunt A.J.!” like it already was too late.

Her mother rolled her eyes and promised to visit them in Vancouver.

Luke couldn’t speak to everyone, but he tried. When he couldn’t reach them, he smiled and waved. He liked letting people know they were welcome. The fact that his wife kept rubbing her side as if she wished she wore her holster merely heightened his amusement.

Alexandra Jane Hoyt was his wife: his beautiful, brave, secretly softhearted, miraculous, kickbutt wife. He wouldn’t have wished her to act any other way.

Her grandfather was playing fetch from his chair with a neighbor’s excited dog. Luke suspected the man she called Pop-Pop had no idea the pooch’s owner won three Oscars.

“My parents are dancing,” A.J. observed, her thumbnail pressed nervously to her teeth. They had an excellent view. Luke and she had climbed the steps to the rear balcony, where they stood side by side, looking out.

Luke squeezed her tense shoulders. “They look happy. And your dad can cut a rug.”

His parents were dancing too—less expertly, but with similar evidence of enjoyment. His father was making his mother slap at him and laugh, so no doubt he’d told her some bawdy joke. The turtledove brooch his mom loaned A.J. yesterday twinkled on the front of her party dress. Though his mom was tougher than she looked, Luke loved how sweet A.J. had been with her.

“Your parents will be fine,” he soothed. “You said it yourself: they’re grownups.”

“Right,” she agreed with a decisive nod of her head. “I’m going to let this go.”

He was about to kiss her temple, and maybe tease her a little more, when two other people he knew wended toward the dance floor. The couple was holding hands like maybe they’d done more than that recently.

“Well, that’s not a good idea,” he blurted without thinking.

“What isn’t?” A.J. scanned the crowd to see what he meant.

“Martin and Naomi. They obviously came together. Surely there’s a rule against double rebounders pairing up.”

“I’m pretty sure there isn’t.” She was fighting a tiny grin.

“You’re telling me this doesn’t worry you?”

“You’re the one who’s lecturing about grownups. Martin and Naomi are grownups too. And you have to admit, they’ll distract each other.”

“Naomi’s a wild child. Martin will never keep up with her.”

“We don’t know that. He survived active duty. Dating Naomi can’t be worse than pitched battle.”

“What do you mean, it can’t be
worse?
”

A.J. burst out laughing. “I’m pulling your leg. I like Naomi. Let’s make a deal that we’ll try to be enlightened about these things. We let our friends and parents handle their own romantic entanglements.”

“Do I have to?” he joked, though he liked the idea of him and A.J. as a team.

His brand new wife hugged his arm. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll love you no matter what.”

He liked that as well. His tension left him, replaced by happy warmth. He watched one of the servers giggle as she handed a champagne flute to a band tech. Romance was in the air: Hollywood’s trademark cotton candy being spun. Some of the strands would twine into something stronger. The rest would float away. That was fine. The possibility of connecting was one of the joys of life.

He turned to find A.J.’s eyes on him. Her head was cocked.

“I think I get it,” she said.

“Get what?”

She swept one hand toward the party crowd. “Why you enjoy all this. Why you like seeing and being seen. You don’t want to be invisible the way you were in that cellar as a boy. You want to be sure you can’t disappear without someone missing you.”

His eyes burned at her perceptiveness. He couldn’t speak for a moment. A.J. caressed his forearm, which he’d unconscious pulled to his stomach.

“You’d be missed,” she said intensely. “
Always
. Even if there was no one to look for you but me.”

He blinked and two tears ran down.

“You found me,” he said throatily. “And thank God I found you too.”

She hugged him, her face pressed tightly to his shoulder. He stroked her hair, so short, so tender against her nape.

She didn’t have to say
thank God
too. He knew she was thinking it.

* * *

EMMA HOLLY is the award winning,
USA Today
bestselling author of more than thirty romantic books, featuring shapeshifters, demons, faeries and just plain extraordinary folks. She loves the hot stuff, both to read and to write!

If you’d like to discover what else she’s written, please visit her website at
http://www.emmaholly.com
.

Emma runs monthly contests and sends out newsletters that often include coupons for ebooks. To receive them, go to her contest page.

Thanks so much for reading this book. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review. That kind of support is very helpful!

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