Page 1 of Tail, Dark and Handsome: Celestial Mates
Chapter 1
Thankful Cayne announced the engagement of his son, Winter, to heiress Rebel Ferre. Some speculate that the engagement is more of a business arrangement than a love match. Sources claim the two have known each other since they were kits…
-Tal Tattler
Marigold
“He’s what?”
“Not coming,” her brother said. Joseph had tamed his normal tumble of dark curls into a ponytail, and he looked sharp in his suit. Marigold had just been about to tell him he cleaned up well when Joseph blurted out the news.
“Where’s Sandria?” Mari needed her friend.
“About that. It seems Tomas and Sandria left. Together. Like,togethertogether.” He bumped the sides of two fists together. “I’m sorry,” he added as an afterthought. He never liked Tomas, and it showed on his face.
She slumped to the ground, the ridiculous dress creating a fluffy white puddle around her. The rose bouquet fell to the floor, releasing a gentle perfume from the crushed petals.
“He and Sandria? How do you know?”
“Once—”
“I swear to the stars, if you say you caught them sneaking around and didn’t tell me, I’ll…I’ll…” Her brain stuttered from the sheer volume of information to process.
“He left a note.” Joseph thrust a piece of paper at her like a shield.
Mari took the sheet of genuine paper, not a note on a tablet or a sheet of reusable digital paper.
She read. Her heart broke. Tomas fell in love with Sandria. They ran away. Together. Like,togethertogether.
“He’s not coming,” she repeated the impossible words, feeling a touch relieved and not understanding where that came from. Tomas had been so excited about their wedding, insisting on moving the date up when a spot opened unexpectedly in the Starlight Chapel.
Wood timbers—actual wood—and strong, crystal clear glass—not actual glass—formed the chapel, framing the stars and darkness of deep space. Soft lights glowed within, allowing the starlight to filter through the timber and glass walls. Neat rows of wood chairs flanked either side of a deep red, plush carpet aisle cutting down the stone floor. Again, real wood and real stone, brought to the space station at substantial cost. Hell, the carpet was probably made from wool harvested during a full moon from sheep that only grazed in fields of wildflowers and sipped the purest spring water. Needlessly expensive, the end result was a stunning and very, very pricey venue, but Tomas insisted. He told her not to worry about the cost.
He always said not to worry, and she liked that, relaxing her grip on responsibility and letting someone else take care of her. For once.
Look where it got her.
The entire time they were planning an extravagant wedding, he was falling in love with her friend? Sneaking around behind her back? Mari had felt him pull away, but she put that down to stress and pre-wedding jitters.
Joseph rubbed her back comfortingly. This was terrible. The stupid dress. The expensive venue. The crowd of people outside waiting for her to march down the aisle. At least Joseph didn’t make it worse by offering empty platitudes. He knew she needed a few quiet minutes to gather herself.
She pressed her fingers to the corner of her eyes, refusing to cry. Left at the altar. How cliché.
Silently, Joseph handed her a tissue.
“I’m not crying,” she said, even as the mascara dribbled down her cheeks.
“No, not over that asshole.” Joseph handed her another tissue. She gave him a watery smile, grateful that her brother was also her best friend. When they were kids, they moved frequently from ship to ship. Their mother, Valerian, changed jobs almost as frequently as she changed hair color, but it was always the same type of ship: luxury cruises that entertained wealthy tourists from starports to exclusive resorts and the most stunning parts of the galaxy. That meant there were usually no children on board, but Mari and Joseph had each other.
“Maybe he’ll change his mind,” she finally said and flinched for the sake of her battered self-esteem.
“He cleared out your apartment and they left on a ship this morning.” Joseph paused, then cleared his throat. “He, um, used a different name.”
“So it might not be him.” How did Joseph know? Sure, he was friendly with a lot of the crews that frequented the station, but he didn’tknow. Not for certain.
Hope, bitter and sharp, stirred in her chest, wanting it to be a mistake, even though she clutched a letter that explained exactly how his heart had strayed and how he wouldn’t be coming back. Tomas could change his mind. He could.
Something heavy and sour settled in her stomach at the thought of Tomas walking through the doors, exasperated with the funny story that happened and kept him from the most important event of their lives. There was no other woman; no running away.
