Wedding Season

1) Brindleton Bay — The Lockwood Wedding
Lockwood Estate

Brad and Bri had barely stepped into the estate when two hands shot out of nowhere, clamped around their wrists, and yanked them both into the nearest guest bathroom. The door slammed, the lock clicked, and Maeve — in full bridal makeup, barefoot, her warm chestnut hair half‑curled, veil hanging off one bobby pin, and wrapped in a silky white bridal robe — pressed her back against it like she was holding off an invading army, chest rising and falling in frantic, uneven breaths.

“Guys, I need your help. My mother is driving me INSANE.”

Brad blinked. “Maeve… we just got here.”

“She’s refusing to attend my wedding,” Maeve exploded, words firing like bullets. “Because apparently, she only now realized that after today, Arden and I will be living here at the Lockwood Estate with Pierce and his brother — without her! She’s acting like I’m abandoning her, when I’m literally letting her live in my beautiful little beach house rent‑free. Twenty minutes away! Twenty! She threw a fit when I told her that I am absolutely not moving mommy into my new husband’s house. WTF?! She told me I was just like my father and brother. What is a daughter supposed to say to that? On her WEDDING DAY!?”

Brad opened his mouth. “I’m not sure what we—”

“We? Nothing. You, Brad.” She jabbed a finger at him so hard he leaned back. “You’re calm. You’re composed. You’re grace under fire. You’re the only adult in this family who can talk sense into her without killing her first. Please Braddy, I am begging you, do something! Medicate her if you must, literally whatever it takes! I need both my parents there. Dad is walking me down the aisle — which is the second thing she’s refusing to accept. Brad, I NEED my dad to give me away, and I NEED my mom there, or this wedding is not happening.”

Brad sighed, shoulders sagging. “All right, all right. I’ll try. Come on, Bri—”

“Nope.” Maeve slapped her palm against the door. “Bri stays. She’s my bridesmaid. My only bridesmaid, by the looks of it. We said small wedding, right? Pierce isn’t into a big bash, neither am I — considering our past here — but it’s my first and last wedding, because I am never doing this again, so it better be fucking awesome and memorable AF! I don’t get it, Bri, how you can be staring down the barrel of wedding number four! I’d be institutionalized!”

Bri lifted her hands. “It’s not—”

“Anyway!” Maeve cut her off. “I picked two bridesmaids. Very humble, very reasonable. You — who ended up being a maybe after NYE, but thank GOD you’re recovered enough that I don’t have to worry about you going into some weird vampiric feeding frenzy sucking around on our guests while I’m trying to become Mrs. Lockwood. And Claire. Who, I just learned, can’t fit into her dress. My friggin’ sister-in-law is busting at the seams and can’t zip it, so Dad’s new wife, Victoria, is running around here somewhere hunting for a sewing kit to see if she can shoehorn Claire into it somehow. I nearly threw hands with my brother for knocking up his wife again at the worst possible time, even though they both swear she isn’t pregnant. I don’t even care, pregnant or fat, she couldn’t have timed it worse! Oh, Bri, you better fit in your dress or I will hang myself immediately, right here in this bathroom!”

Bri stared at her, incredulous. “Maeve. I perform publicly. My entire career – for many years now – depends on not letting myself go. And how exactly am I supposed to gain weight now? My whole diet is plasma packs, blood bags, plasma fruit, and the occasional consenting nibble. Not exactly a recipe for getting chunky.”

Maeve paused, pointed at her, and said, “Okay, fair. Still — don’t you dare bloat or whatever vampires do. Oh my God—wait. You’re not pregnant, right? Please say no!”

Bri’s jaw dropped. “WTF, Maeve?! No, I am not preggers, but what I am is this close to slapping you back to normal. Touch some grass, woman!”

Maeve threw her hands up. “I’m just asking! Claire’s situation has me paranoid! Their mouths say no, but the look they exchanged. 50% sure I will be an aunt again soon.”

Brad had heard enough. He leaned in, kissed Bri quickly, and murmured, “I just got you back myself…”

Maeve wedged herself between them like a linebacker. “And you’ll have her 24/7 to your heart’s content after my wedding. IF there is a wedding.”

She unlocked the door, grabbed Brad by the shoulders, and shoved him out into the hallway like he weighed nothing. Bridal adrenaline rush.

By the time guests were being seated and the soft ceremonial melody drifted across the backyard of the Lockwood Estate, every fire had been put out. Claire was squeezed — heroically — into her gown. Bianca had agreed to attend. No one had cried, bled, or eloped.

A miracle.

The seating chart, however, was a diplomatic nightmare.

Pierce had no family left except his younger brother, whom he raised. So Maeve’s enormous family filled both sides of the aisle. Gavin — father of the bride — sat on what would traditionally be the groom’s side with his wife Victoria and their toddler, Annabelle. Meanwhile, Bianca — mother of the bride — sat as far from them as humanly possible on the bride’s side, next to her and Gavin’s son Jake and his twins with Bridesmaid Claire: Edward and Everett, two fiery seven‑year‑olds who looked like they needed leashes and possibly tranquilizers.

Bianca shot so many eye‑daggers at Gavin and Victoria that Scarlett eventually had to intervene before someone combusted.

The ceremony itself was beautiful. The late‑afternoon sun filtered through the old oaks that lined the estate’s lawn, casting warm gold across the aisle. Pierce looked steady, healthy, and deeply in love. Maeve was radiant — glowing, even — as if the meltdown in the bathroom had never happened. The age gap was visible, yes, but so was the happiness.

As the couple exchanged their custom vows beneath the floral archway, Brad reached for Bri’s hand and kissed it. She smiled at him — soft, knowing — and his heart stuttered when she leaned into him.

He’d tortured himself for weeks imagining how she might have changed after NYE. Would she be cold? Detached? Predatory? Would she lose the warmth, the sweetness, the tiny quirks he adored? Would she become someone he couldn’t recognize?

But then Riordan had come to check on him and offered to take him to Castello di Vannucci for a visit. The moment he stepped into the training hall and Bri squealed his name, sprinting into his arms, covering his face with kisses and breathless stories about Jasper’s mishaps and Iris’s dry commentary — he knew.

She was still her.

Absolutely, unmistakably her.

Not a hollowed‑out creature. Not a stranger. Just Bri. His Bri. The same quirky, perky Bri he had always known her as, since they went to Grade School together.

That one courtesy visit had changed everything. By the time she came home, he wasn’t afraid anymore — just excited.

Yes, the kissing felt different now — those first brushes of her fangs had nearly stopped his heart — but he’d grown used to it. Her body temperature shifted with her surroundings, so she always showered right before bed, slipping under the covers warm from the water. She didn’t sunbathe anymore, but she could walk in full daylight. Sometimes her eyes caught the light strangely, but nothing frightening.

She was still the same woman he had always loved.

Bri leaned in, whispering, “Soon, that will be us. Can you believe it?”

Brad swallowed hard, fighting tears — joy, relief, everything at once. He nodded. “Counting the minutes.”

Soon she would be his wife again. Soon his lifelong dream would be real again. They would raise their children together, fall asleep together, wake up together. Unless work pulled him away, he would never have to spend another night without her.

He looked up just as the officiant announced the new Mr. and Mrs. Lockwood. Pierce dipped Maeve into a kiss, and their daughter Arden jumped up, shouting proudly:

“I’m Miss Lockwood now too!”

Laughter rippled across the lawn.

Brad squeezed Bri’s hand, holding on like he’d never let go again.

2) Sulani — The Cameron Wedding

Maeve and Pierce had barely been back from their honeymoon long enough to unpack their suitcases — let alone settle into a routine — when the next wedding swept the family back into celebration mode.

This time, it was Connor and Keira’s only child, Dr. Christian Cameron, finally marrying his longtime girlfriend and fiancée, Cadence. A destination wedding in Sulani, no less — sun‑bleached beaches, turquoise water, and a resort so luxurious it made Maeve mutter that she should’ve held out for a second honeymoon.

“Funny,” she’d said as they boarded the private jet together, “Pierce and I were just here. I swear Sulani should give us a loyalty card.”

This wedding was a different beast entirely.

Where Maeve and Pierce’s ceremony had been intimate, emotional, and borderline chaotic, the Camerons operated like a well‑oiled party machine. Connor and Keira had been throwing legendary events since before Chris was born, and their son had inherited the same flair for spectacle. Their closest friends and family were always ready for it — the Camerons didn’t throw parties so much as produce them.

Everyone else? They dropped like flies.

By the end of each night of the multi‑day celebration, the resort was littered with the exhausted, sunburned, and over‑cocktailed. Guests practically cheered when the actual wedding day arrived, knowing they’d finally get to go home afterward. Everyone except the bride and groom, of course — they were staying behind for their honeymoon.

For Brad and Bri, it was another beautiful ceremony… and another emotional test.

Jackson had come. So had Beau. And with them: Jackson’s father Jack, his stepmother Izzy, and his half‑brother Cody.

The moment Bri spotted them across the resort courtyard, her stomach tightened. She wasn’t afraid — she was past that — but the sight of Jackson still hit her like a cold wave. He didn’t approach. He didn’t speak. He didn’t even pretend to mingle.

He just watched.

Watched her and Brad. Watched them dance. Watched them laugh with friends. Watched them hold hands.

Watched until it bordered on uncomfortable.

Brad noticed too. He always did. His hand would tighten around hers, thumb brushing her knuckles in that grounding way he had — not possessive, not defensive, just quietly protective.

Jackson kept his distance, but his eyes never left them.

Judging from his behavior at Chris’s rehearsal dinner — the stiff posture, the clipped answers, the way he’d left early claiming a headache — he still needed time to adjust to the new reality. To Bri’s new reality. To the fact that she was no longer the girl he’d once known, nor the woman he’d dreamt the impossible dream with for far too long.

So Bri didn’t approach him. Didn’t force a conversation. Didn’t try to soothe him or explain herself.

She simply turned her face toward the ocean breeze, lifted her chin, and pretended she didn’t feel the weight of his stare burning into her skin.

Brad leaned in once, voice low. “Ignore him.”

“I am,” she whispered back.

But her shoulders stayed a little too straight. Her smile a little too practiced. Her laughter a little too bright.

Another wedding. Another reminder of how much had changed — and how much still needed to settle.

3) Brindleton Bay — The Cunningham Wedding
Rosebriar Haven

The next weeks passed quietly — almost suspiciously so for Brad and Briar Rose. Their days filled with the soft, ordinary rhythms of life: raising their children, visiting family, juggling work, errands, and the endless parade of small domestic tasks that made a home feel lived‑in. Through it all ran a steady thread of genuine happiness, the kind that settles into the bones and makes even the mundane feel sacred.

Brad still couldn’t quite believe how smoothly everything had fallen into place. Not just with Briar Rose’s transformation — though that alone felt like a miracle — but with the rest of their tangled, sprawling lives.

For one, Molly and Viola — his other two ex‑wives — were on startlingly friendly terms with Bri. And therefore, by extension, with him. After years of tension with Molly, seeing her arrive at his and Bri’s wedding with her new husband and their child had felt surreal. Viola had come too, with Charlotte and her new boyfriend. Everyone they knew in Brindleton Bay was either in attendance or had sent gifts. Bri’s family had flown in from every corner of the world.

Brad had briefly considered a small wedding, but the guest list alone made that impossible. Too many people would have been hurt to be excluded. So they compromised: a small ceremony at the old chapel, followed by a reception at Rosebriar Haven large enough to rival a state function. They’d originally planned to host it at the Yacht Club — until the Yacht Club politely informed them that the size of the guest list vastly exceeded their fire code.

It was Brad’s fourth wedding — though twice to Bri — and he was still a wreck standing at the altar. Chase walked Briar Rose down the aisle, just like last time, but whispered something that made Bri’s shoulders relax and her smile bloom. Then he winked at Brad, eyes warm. “She’s all yours now. Watch out — she got some extra bite to her now.” which made Brad snort despite himself.

Chase kissed his daughter’s cheek, placed her hand into Brad’s, and stepped back with a proud, misty‑eyed smile.

Then it was just the two of them.

Ready to say their vows.

When they were announced as Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham once again, Brad felt his knees nearly give out. Relief washed over him in a warm, overwhelming wave. They had done it. They had made it. At long last — and this time, he knew with absolute certainty — it was forever.

The reception blurred together in a whirl of laughter, clinking glasses, and the expected roasts from Connor and Jasper. Jasper and Iris were thriving in their new existence, and Bri — God, Bri — looked radiant. When they finally got a moment to themselves, his arms around her, Brad could feel her relief matching his own, their bodies pressed together in perfect, familiar harmony.

“Happy?” he whispered into her ear.

She kissed him softly. “Very.”

“Feels like a dream, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” she murmured, smiling as he kissed her, “and I hope we never wake up.”

For that moment, the world was perfect.

Even Beau Wyatt — Bri’s son with Jackson — was there, dragged onto the dancefloor by his twin sister Briony and Brad’s oldest daughter Lauren. Blaine Cameron Jr. swooped in to reclaim Lauren, whispering something to Beau that made the boy blush crimson. Beau ended up dancing with Briony until Hailey cut in, twirling her grandson across the floor to the amusement of the entire family.

Jackson, however, was absent.

Brad couldn’t help the quiet relief that settled in his chest. Too many times in the past, things had derailed when the constellation aligned like this — Brad holding Bri’s heart, Jackson watching from the sidelines, resentment simmering. Tonight, there was no shadow in the corner of the room. No tension. No threat of old wounds reopening.

Just joy.

During a quick break, Connor pulled Brad aside, two glasses of champagne in hand.

“So,” Connor asked, handing him one, “how’s it going with Bri 2.0?”

Brad huffed a laugh. “Better than I ever dared to hope.”

“You see? It’s not so bad. Not ideal, sure, and it wasn’t exactly her choice — even though it was — but look.” Connor tapped his own chest. “I was born like this. Hated it growing up. Then I got unturned, lived the mortal life for a while, and realized the grass isn’t greener. I felt like… I don’t know how to say it. Like a part of me was missing. Like I wasn’t truly whole. So when I got turned again? Relief. Pure relief. This is who I’m meant to be. Fighting your nature never ends well. Bri’s no exception. She may have never lived it out — she, Iris, and Jas were turned before they ever learned their true nature — but being born with the spark means something.”

Brad nodded slowly. “I’ll admit I had my reservations. But all my worries were unfounded. She’s still herself. Just… with a few adjustments. We didn’t tell the younger kids — they’re clueless. Briony knows. I assume she told Beau. And I assume Beau told Jackson.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Say less. I can imagine Jackson didn’t take it well.”

Connor snorted. “He absolutely did not. He’d already driven off with Beau after visitation, barely out of my parents’ driveway when Beau told him, Jackson immediately turned that truck around — tires screeching — and burst back into my parents’ place like the Kool‑Aid Man. Full Chestnut Ridge‑sized meltdown. I’ve seen patients go nuts, but Jackson hit a whole new dimension. Luckily, I was still there. Took ages to calm him down. I actually had to give him a mild sedative — we were all worried he’d give himself a heart attack freaking out like that. He ended up staying overnight because nobody trusted him to be unsupervised.”

“Not surprising,” Brad sighed. “Maybe this means he won’t try to interfere again.”

“Brad,” Connor said, softening, “I know my sister. She’s a knucklehead. Impulsive. Heart first, brain second. But I saw a change in her — even before the turning. I’m almost certain she’s got it right this time. Maybe my lil’ sis finally grows up into something resembling an adult. She won’t make those old mistakes again. I’m almost certain she’s cured of Jackson now. She’s all yours.”

“Thank God,” Brad breathed. “As happy as I am tonight, those weeks she was still at the castle were torture. I didn’t know what to expect. And naturally, I worried she might change her mind and want her freedom or go back to Jackson or something.”

Connor raised a brow. “Buddy, you’ve known plenty of vamps. Have any of us ever acted scary?”

“Well… there’s Caelan.”

Connor burst out laughing. “Brad, Caelan is his own category. Vamps like him are the reason my kind has such a bad rep. Don’t worry about him. Unless you kill a vampire or something, you’ll never see him unless you go back to the castle.”

“I’m a history buff and love old architecture, but I can contain myself. If I never go back there, it’ll be too soon.”

Connor clapped him on the shoulder. “Trust me, nobody likes going there. We all call it the creepy castle. Now, Bri will have to go — Cesare calls meetings fairly often, and they’re mandatory. Unless you want Caelan knocking at your door, it’s better to just go. But that’s just her, not you.”

“Yeah, she mentioned something like that. Said she’s worried Jasper won’t be able to sit through those meetings without making the class clown.”

“Yeah, that’s usually Blaine’s job. We’re all a little concerned about that. But I think Iris would stuff a sock in his mouth to shut him up, and Cesare’s used to it — from Blaine. Speaking of Blaine, have you seen him anywhere?”

“Last I saw him, he was commandeering the karaoke machine out back. I thanked the heavens all the neighbors are in attendance — nobody left to call the cops for excessive noise.”

Connor laughed, patting his brother‑in‑law on the back.

“Welcome to the Cameron family again, Brad. You’ll do just fine.”

The reception lights softened into a warm amber glow as Brad and Bri stepped onto the dance floor for their first dance. The backyard of Rosebriar Haven shimmered under strings of lights, lanterns swaying gently in the evening breeze. Brad held her close, one hand at her waist, the other cradling her fingers, and for a moment the world shrank to just the two of them.

They moved slowly, effortlessly, forehead to forehead, the kind of sway that spoke of years of history and a lifetime still ahead. Bri laughed softly at something Brad whispered, brushing her nose against his. He kissed her temple. She closed her eyes. It was perfect.

When the song faded and the DJ invited everyone to join, Chase appeared at Brad’s shoulder with a grin that was half‑mischief, half‑emotion.

“Mind if I borrow my little girl for a minute?”

Brad stepped back with a mock bow. “She’s all yours.”

Chase took Bri’s hand, and she melted into his arms like she had since she was little. They danced in a slow circle, Chase murmuring something that made her laugh through the tears she was trying not to shed. Brad watched from the edge of the floor, smiling — because this was right. This was family.

As the song wound down, Chase spun her gently and dipped her, earning cheers from the crowd. When he pulled her upright again, Bri caught Briony’s eye across the dance floor.

A tiny nod. A spark of mischief. The signal.

Briony straightened, excitement lighting her face. Across the lawn, Brad’s daughter Lauren froze mid‑sip of her drink — then grinned. Of course she recognized it.

Bri squeezed Chase’s hand. “Don’t go far, dad.”

Then she slipped toward the DJ booth, leaned in, and whispered something that made the DJ’s eyebrows shoot up. He grinned, nodded, and reached under the table, handing her a small bundle of gear.

Bri turned back toward Briony and Lauren, who had joined her, distributing the sleek in‑ear monitors and tiny wireless mics they’d stashed with him earlier.

The DJ tapped his console. A sharp beep crackled through the speakers.

Then Bri’s throaty voice purred across the lawn:

“Soundcheck… one, two, three…”

A second voice chimed in — Lauren, crisp and professional:

“Test…”

And then Briony, deadpan, perfectly timed:

“…icle.”

The crowd burst into laughter.

“Definitely a Cameron!” someone shouted.

Blaine threw both arms in the air from across the yard. “That’s my great‑grandbaby!” he whooped, nearly knocking over the karaoke machine he’d commandeered earlier.

Connor doubled over laughing. Maeve screamed. Jasper yelled, “I KNEW they were up to something!”

The girls exchanged a wicked grin — the kind that promised absolute chaos — and slipped into formation.

A beat later, the DJ’s voice boomed across the speakers:

“Ladies and gentlemen… the bride has a special performance for you tonight!”

The crowd erupted.

The three of them met at the center of the lawn like a well‑oiled girl group, slipping instinctively into the formation they’d practiced in secret for weeks: Bri front and center, Briony on her right, Lauren on her left — a perfect triangle.

Their matching bridesmaid dresses shimmered under the string lights, the soft fabric catching the breeze as they exchanged one last conspiratorial look.

Then the beat hit.

The opening music of Madonna’s ‘Deeper And Deeper’

Cheers erupted across the crowd.

Bri stepped forward, taking the lead, her voice smooth and confident. Briony and Lauren mirrored each other behind her, harmonizing, their movements perfectly synchronized — the triangle shifting and tightening as they danced across the grass.

They wove through the guests in formation, the triangle opening and closing like choreography from a music video. They circled Chase first — Bri leading, the girls flanking — teasing him with playful spins and exaggerated poses.

Chase leaned forward as all three girls danced past, placing pecks on his cheeks, he was visibly enjoying it, while Hailey stood back laughing and crying at the same time.

The triangle pivoted — sharp, practiced — and moved toward Brad.

Bri pointed at him with a wicked grin and sang the one line she knew would destroy him:

“I can’t help falling in love
I fall deeper and deeper the further I go
Kisses sent from Heaven above
They get sweeter and sweeter the more that I know”

The three of them broke formation in perfect sync, slipping into a loose circle around him — barefoot, laughing, skirts swishing as they orbited him like he was the gravitational center of the performance.

Brad froze, hands half‑raised, blushing so hard Connor cackled from across the lawn.

Bri led the rotation, brushing her fingers along Brad’s shoulder as she passed behind him. Briony twirled past his left side, hair flying. Lauren glided past his right, harmonizing with a grin that said we rehearsed this just for you, old man.

Bri stopped and only the two girls sung now

“Daddy couldn’t be all wrong”

Bri echoed “Not gonna let you slip away, I’m gonna be there”

The girls alone again: “And my mama made me learn this song”

The crowd screamed as they resumed the song together.

Then — on the downbeat — the circle snapped open.

Bri stepped out of orbit and moved directly toward him, hips swaying, voice dropping into that sultry, playful tone that always undid him. She slid a hand up his chest, leaned in close enough for her singing breath to tickle his ear, and sang the lines she knew would melt him.

“Deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper
Never gonna hide it again
Sweeter and sweeter and sweeter and sweeter
Never gonna have to pretend”

Brad’s knees nearly buckled.

She kissed his cheek — quick, teasing, electric — before spinning away again, laughing as the crowd lost their minds.

“All is fair in love”, she said
“Think with your heart, not with your head”
That’s what my mama told me”

Then Bri blew her mother a kiss across the lawn.

Hailey’s hand flew to her heart. “Oh, sweetheart…” she whispered, eyes shining. “That’s my sweet baby.”

Briony and Lauren re‑formed behind her, the triangle snapping back into place as if the whole thing had been choreographed by a professional.

Brad stood there, stunned, hand pressed to the spot where she’d kissed him, looking like a man who’d just been hit by a truck made of glitter, harmony, and pure Cameron‑Cunningham chaos.

The whole crowd clapped, cheered, and whooped as the three girls hit their final pose — back‑to‑back, hands raised, hair wild, glowing.

The music faded. The applause didn’t.

Brad crossed the lawn in three long strides, scooped Bri into his arms, and kissed her like he’d been waiting his whole life for this exact moment.

Briony and Lauren collapsed into giggles, hugging each other. Chase wiped his eyes. Connor shouted, “Encore!” Maeve yelled, “BRI, YOU GODDAMN ICON!” Jasper yelled, “Do it again, I didn’t get the angle!” Iris muttered, “You got twelve angles give them a break. Fangirl much?!”

The DJ laughed into the mic. “Give it up for the bride and her daughters, one by blood the other by love!”

The dance floor erupted into celebration.

And for the rest of the night, everyone agreed: This wasn’t just a wedding. It was a moment. A memory. A premonition no one would ever forget.