by Tara Lain
Braden smiled. “That’s very kind. I know the kids would love to see your family again. We didn’t have much time together at the wedding.”
Ken glanced at Jim and grinned. “Yes, Jim and I have told them so much about you all. My mom’s very interested in getting to know the man who captured Ian’s heart. She thinks of him as her own son, you see.”
Ian gave Braden a snuggle. His family got bigger and bigger.
Jim laughed. “Yep, her own son, and you know what that means with Mama-san, right?”
Ian looked at him with big eyes. “No.”
“Oh yes. She’s looking for the chance to plan her next gay wedding.”
Ian’s breath caught. He sneaked a glance at Braden, who also looked a little stunned.
Mireille wasn’t even surprised. “Wedding? Yes.” She leaped to her feet. “Jo-Jo will be your best man, Daddy. And Jim will be Ian’s. And I’ll be the flower girl.” She twirled. “And Anderson will be the usher!”
That got a huge laugh, but Ian stole a look at Braden. How would he deal with Mama-san’s loving meddling?
Finally, as the sun started to dip and even the lure of Gray Anson couldn’t hold them any longer, parents gathered their kids and started back for the vans. Braden stood at the bottom of the steps and accepted thanks and got hugs. Max and Daisy walked over to Ian with their kids. Daisy hugged him. “Thank you so much, Ian.”
“You’re welcome, but for what?” He grinned.
“For giving us your home for this lovely party.”
He gasped and felt the tears on his cheeks before he knew they were falling.
“Oh, sweetie, what’s wrong?”
He touched his face. “Nothing. Honestly. I just hadn’t thought of it that way.”
She laughed. “Well, start. You’re a charming host, and we love you.”
They plowed through the sand to the steps as Ian walked toward the water. A wave hit him that had nothing to do with surf. His home. His family.
An arm wrapped around his waist, and he looked up into those deep blue eyes. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Where are the kids?”
“Jo-Jo took Mireille up to Elena.”
Ian nodded. They joined hands and just walked—inevitably toward the sea bridge. Getting through involved a bit of swimming, but they came out the other side and aimed toward their favorite hiding place. Sitting next to the rocky outcropping, Ian leaned back against Braden and watched the sun sneaking down toward the water. “I’m so happy, Bray.”
“I’m glad.”
“It took a lot of steps to get here, but I’m happy we took them.”
Braden chuckled and it vibrated straight to Ian’s heart. “A thousand steps.”
“At least.”
Braden’s arms tightened. “So when we go see Mr. and Mrs. Tanaka—”
“Yes?” Ian held his breath.
“What would you like to tell Mama-san?”
Ian looked up into Braden’s eyes, which reflected the sun low in the sky. “I’d like to say—”
“Yes?” Braden grinned, and his pulse beat visibly in his neck.
“I’d ask her, ‘Mama-san, how do you feel about cats at weddings?’”
Their laughter echoed off the rocks of the cove.
Meet Tara Lain
Tara Lain believes in happy ever afters - and magic. Same thing. In fact, she says, she doesn't believe, she knows. Tara shares this passion in her stories that star her unique, charismatic heroes and adventurous heroines. Quarterbacks and cops, werewolves and witches, blue collar or billionaires, Tara's characters, readers say, love deeply, resolve seemingly insurmountable differences, and ultimately live their lives authentically. After many years living in southern California, Tara, her soulmate honey and her soulmate dog decided they wanted less cars and more trees, prompting a move to Ashland, Oregon where Tara's creating new stories and loving living in a small town with big culture. Likely a Gryffindor or maybe a Ravensclaw but possessed of Parseltongue, Tara loves animals of all kinds, diversity, open minds, coconut crunch ice cream from Zoeys, and her readers. She also loves to hear from you.
Come visit my website for a FREE download of my Sample Book. https://taralain.com/
If you like to stay up to date on books in general and mine in particular, come join my Reader Group, HEA, Magic, and Beautiful Boys .
Subscribe to my Newsletter and get a drawing for fun prizes in every issue.
Follow me on Amazon for all the new releases, and on Bookbub for specials and to see the books that I love.
Of course, you’ll find me on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and Instagram.
Books by Tara Lain
From Tara Lain Books – Available in KU
LOVE IN LAGUNA
Knight of Ocean Avenue
Knave of Broken Hearts
Prince of the Playhouse
Lord of a Thousand Steps
Fool of Main Beach
THE MIDDLEMARK MYSTERIES
The Case of the Sexy Shakespearean
The Case of the Voracious Vintner
PENNYMAKER TALES SERIES
Sinders and Ash
Driven Snow
Beauty, Inc
Never
THE ALOYSIUS TALES SERIES
Spell Cat
Brush with Catastrophe
Cataclysmic Shift
EVER AFTER, NEW YORK STORIES
Better Red
Holding Hans
FUZZY LOVE
Passions of a Papillon
Prancing of a Papillon
BALLS TO THE WALL
Volley Balls
Fire Balls
Beach Balls
FAST Balls
High Balls
Snow Balls
Bleu Balls
TALES OF THE HARKER PACK
The Pack or the Panther
Wolf in Gucci Loafers
Winter’s Wolf
LONG PASS CHRONICLES
Outing the Quarterback
Canning the Center
Tackling the Tight End
GENETIC ATTRACTION SERIES
The Scientist and the Supermodel
Genetic Attraction
The Pretty Boy and the Tomboy
Genetic Celebrity
HOLIDAY NOVELLAS
Mistletowed
Be Bad, For Goodness Sake
STANDALONE TITLES
Home Improvement - A Love Story
From Dreamspinner Press
Hearts and Flour
Trex or Treat
COWBOYS DON’T
Cowboys Don’t Come Out
Cowboys Don’t Ride Unicorns
Cowboys Don’t Samba
DREAMSPUN BEYOND #15 – Rome and Jules
DREAMSPUN DESIRES #5 – Taylor Maid
LOVE YOU SO
Love You So Hard
Love You So Madly
Love You So Special
Love You So Sweetly
MOVIE MAGIC ROMANCES
Return of the Chauffeur’s Son
Love and Linguistics
SUPERORDINARY SOCIETY
Hidden Powers
Rising Magic
From Pride Publishing
DANGEROUS DANCERS
Death Dancer
Audiobooks by Tara Lain available at Audible, Amazon, and Audiobooks.com
Keep Reading for an Exclusive Excerpt of FOOL OF MAIN BEACH
Book 5 in the Love in Laguna series
The presenter’s voice rang out across the huge ballroom. “And the winner of Best Performance by a Supporting Actor in a TV Series Drama is—”
Merle Justice’s stomach gave one huge clench.
“Otto Fastholder in Breakup Tales.”
Stomach release. A smile plastered on his face and his hands began clapping like mad on their own. The cameras are going to show you, so look like the world’s best sport.
His agent, Jerry Durand, leaned over. “Sorry, baby. We’ll get ’em next time.” He
scooted to another table and another client. A bigger, more famous client.
Nichelle Holder, his costar in the series, squeezed his arm inconspicuously, then began her own applause. Merle gave her a pained grin as Otto moved his bulk up the aisle and onto the stage to get his award. True, Merle’s series, Blood on the Boyfriend Jeans, hadn’t had much chance. Hell, the nominators didn’t even know whether to categorize their show in drama or comedy. The fact that Merle had been nominated at all for a teenybopper supernatural romance drama had been described in the trades as a miracle. Some said the nomination was a feather in his long, wavy blond hair. Others called it a joke. He released a slow breath as he lowered his hands and let the smile fade.
Nichelle leaned over and spoke softly. “You should have won. Otto’s a thug so everyone thinks he’s so dramatic.”
Merle quirked his top lip. “And he doesn’t wear fangs.”
“True that. It’s a testament to your talent that you got nominated. Seriously, I don’t remember Twilight getting any Academy Award nominations.”
He grinned. “So everyone keeps telling me.” Sadly, his family wouldn’t see it that way.
But then, they didn’t exactly see him at all.
Another award had gone by. His hands hurt from slamming together.
“So want to go out and get drunk?” Nichelle, brunette and doe-eyed, did have an affection for the sauce.
“No. I’ve got to head for Laguna. My friends are giving a party, which sadly is partly in celebration of this award I didn’t win.”
“Oooh, ouch.”
“Yeah, but it’s mostly to fete my friends’ successful businesses, so at least we can pretend the whole award thing was a mistake.” He glanced up at her. “You want to come?”
More applause drowned her out for a minute.
“You so hard up you need a woman for a date?” She flashed her snarkiest smile.
That stabbed him directly in the loneliness. “Sad but true, baby.” He forced the dimples. “Actually, I thought you might get a kick out of it. Laguna’s fun, and the guest list should be pretty incredible since it includes Gray Anson and his husband, Ru Maitland.”
“Whoa. Big fancy names.” She bounced up and whistled for a friend who’d been named, then sat again.
Merle said, “Chase Phillips and his husband too.”
“The stylist?”
“Yeah. It’s their party.”
“Wish I could afford to hire him. He’s so great. Hell, he practically put Missy Samson on the map. That woman was twelve miles of bad road before he got his hands on her. Now she’s Best Dressed list.”
“I’ll put in a good word for you.”
“Can’t come, though. I have to be on a plane tomorrow for those interviews I told you about.”
“Oh right. You’ll be great.”
“Besides, you need to find a real date. Cute guy like you should have a million dudes on a string.” She glanced into his eyes. “How come I never see you with any?”
“The C&C factor’s too great.”
“Uh, what?”
“Competition and critique. It gets old with Hollywood guys.” He’d really had a crush on Ru Maitland, who hadn’t been Hollywood at the time, but no go. Hell, who could compete with the world’s biggest action movie star, Gray Anson? Besides, he loved having Ru and Gray as friends.
“Maybe you’ll find someone at the party who’s not a Hollywood guy.”
“Maybe.”
She picked up her champagne glass, and they both turned to the stage to see the winners of the really big awards.
Right, and forget about the loser on aisle five.
Before the last award was given, he slipped out of the theater into the lobby. He wanted to get a jump on the traffic. As he strode toward the entrance, the inner doors opened, and he glanced back at the portly figure of Paul Remoulade, a reporter for a slimy and wildly popular gossip blog—although they called it a news outlet.
“Hey, Justice, tough luck.”
“Thanks, Paul.”
“None of us thought you’d win, of course.”
Merle made a face. “Yeah, vampires don’t win awards.” He laughed.
“Might be vampires.” He snorted. “Might be you.”
Shit. This asshole’s opinion should matter zero percent. Should. “Thanks for your vote of confidence, Remoulade.”
“Any time.” He narrowed his eyes. “I gotta file my story.”
Merle turned to hide his expression, threw open the outside door, and exited the scene of the crime. He jogged to the lot where he’d left his Audi before the limo picked him up for his big entrance on the red carpet. He’d kind of enjoyed all the screams since they reminded the press that, while his nomination might be unlikely, his popularity wasn’t. Too bad Remoulade hadn’t seen it.
He powered through traffic, still thick at 9:00 p.m., and made it to the freeway in record time. As planned, he missed the southward crush.
Halfway to Laguna, he finally got the nerve and clicked his phone. “Call Mom.”
The phone rang three times. Finally she picked up. “Hello, Merle.”
“Did I wake you?”
“Of course not, dear. We’re having a little soiree to discuss my latest publication in the Journal of Immunotherapy. Just a few friends.”
“So I’m sure you didn’t watch the Emmys.” He made a face she couldn’t see.
“Emmys? Oh no, of course not, dear.” She turned away from the phone a moment and laughed at something someone said to her. “So what happened?”
“I didn’t win.”
“I’m sorry. But you didn’t expect to, you told me so. After all, you play a vampire, right?”
“Yeah.” He swallowed. Two fucking years on the air and she wasn’t sure what he played.
“So there you are. I must get back to our friends, dear. I’ll tell your father. I know he’ll be sad for you.” She hung up.
He stared through the windshield and forced his foot not to press the accelerator to the floor. When your whole f-ing family topped the list of East Coast intelligentsia, it was damned tough to make a mark. Especially when you were a TV actor.
With teeth gritted, he sailed to Laguna Beach in under an hour. The moon on the water at Main Beach sparkled on every wave crest. He loved this town. He’d fallen for it while he was performing in Hamlet at the Laguna Playhouse. That’s where he’d met Ru, Gray, Shaz, Billy, and most of the people he now counted among his best friends, so that increased the town’s appeal. He’d practically been living there with all the times he’d stayed at Ru and Gray’s beautiful house on the water, and now he’d bought his own home and Billy Ballew was remodeling it for him. After all, vampires might not get much respect, but they made a damned good salary.
He accelerated through the yellow light, turned on Ocean Avenue, and raced to the small parking lot behind the beautiful building that housed Shazam and Ru Maitland Designs. Shaz said they’d save him a spot and, sure enough, a cone in the one vacant parking place said Justice on it. People probably thought they’d stolen the cone from law enforcement.
He stopped, jumped out, dragged the cone to the side, and then parked. A glance in the rearview revealed he looked disappointed—and that proved beyond doubt that his parents were right. He didn’t have the brains of the rest of his family. Carefully he reset the face the press called “beautifully boyish”—not his words, the teen mags—into his usual rakish, irreverent grin. “Okay, baby. Showtime.”
Smoothing his tux, he sauntered around to the front and, with a breath, walked through the door into a wall of humans. Glasses clinked, voices rose and fell, and three big-screen TVs on the walls that he’d never seen before showed the post-Emmy party coverage. Shit, they’d all seen his loss up close and personal.
Shaz spied him first. He looked up, smiled big, and started to applaud.
Oh no, don’t do that.
All the eyes in the room turned toward him, and people began clapping.
Oh come o
n, what the hell for?
Ru, dressed in one of his ridiculously cool, super geek suits complete with suspenders, walked forward and hugged him. “We’re so proud of you.”
“Unless you mean for wearing this gorgeous tux you designed, I can’t imagine why. I didn’t win.”
“Darling, you got nominated for a drama award for playing a fucking vampire.”
Gray stepped up beside his husband, and even calling the man “best friend” couldn’t dampen the sheer impact of that charismatic star power. Gray punched Merle’s arm in the action-star, alpha-male way that disguised a sweet, giving nature. “You make more of that role than Laurence Olivier did of Hamlet, man. You should have won. That Otto dude plays his part like he’s piling concrete blocks. People watch you and they can’t believe you’re so good.” His smoky eyes glinted. “Since you have fangs and all.”
Merle shoulder-punched him back. “Ass. And thank you.” Interesting how not winning could still be a victory—to your friends.
Shaz descended like an apricot-haired mother hen. “Enough. This man needs champagne. A lot of champagne.” He shoved a glass into Merle’s hand.
Billy Ballew, Shaz’s husband, brought the bottle. He grinned. “For refills.”
They all clinked glasses and sipped.
Ru said, “You’re staying with us, right?”
“If you’ll have me.”
“You kidding? We’ll keep you if we can.”
Billy drank his champagne like a guy who was still trying to get used to it. A barely reformed blue-collar guy. “Will you have time to see how the remodel’s going tomorrow, or do you have to get back?”
“I have a few days off shooting, and I can’t wait to see my place.” That was 100 percent true. He was thrilled to have his own home in Laguna near his friends.
A small combo started playing in the next room, and some of the guests filed in there, including all four of Merle’s best friends. He glanced around the room. A couple of the blue-collar guys were cute and totally his type, but they’d shit if he asked any of them to dance.