“You should have said you were thirsty.” He sat at the foot of the chaise, his eyes on the crowd rather than her. But he had his hand on her ankle and the way his thumb kept rubbing over her skin was doing things that were a little crazy for such an innocuous touch.
“What were you and Zach talking about?” she asked.
Sebastien sent her a quick look. “Nothing important.”
“He looked pretty intense.” From behind the protective shield of her glasses, Marin was able to look at Zach and she saw him glancing at them again. It wasn’t the first time she’d caught him eying them strangely. She doubted it would be the last, either.
Zach was always trying to play the hero. He’d been like that as long as she’d known him.
“He’s just being Zach. Abby might have hinted that we were . . . involved. He’s protective of you, you know.” Sebastien crooked a grin at her. “If he gives me trouble, it’s not a problem. I did it to him first.”
She might have asked about that if Denise hadn’t come toward them in the next moment, carrying two plates. “Here. I know you two are on a job, but you can still eat. Once I heard you were coming out, I asked Abby to make sure there would be something you could both eat.”
“I’m not supposed to be a bean pole, Mom.” Sebastien studied the pile of greens on his plate, but grinned at her. “At least I got some chicken.”
“Abby made it so you know you’ll like it.”
“You made her cook for her own birthday party?” Marin laughingly accepted the plate.
Denise waved a hand. “Fine, she didn’t cook it. Her staff did. She’s had to expand, did you hear?”
Marin nodded, stabbing at a fat strawberry with a fork. “She’s pretty pleased with it, but I think she’s done growing. She’ll have to start turning people down.”
“That’s the life of a successful businesswoman.” Denise sat in the chair nearest them, gazing out over the throng. The only ones missing were the twins—Travis had claimed work, as he always did. Trey also had work, but then there was his family. He had a deadline and Ressa hadn’t been able to get off work, so they’d called in the night before. “She’ll decide she wants to expand or she’ll decide she’s happy where she is and as much as she hates turning people down, that’s what she’ll have to do.”
Denise’s blue eyes, eyes she’d passed on to her boys, looked bright and happy. “You heard about Trey and Ressa’s pregnancy, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. He called me.” Sebastien nodded.
“Ressa sent me a text. She’s a wonderful lady—exactly what Trey needed after . . .” Marin stopped, sighing. Trey’s first wife had died in childbirth and it had seemed as though he’d never emerge from the dark depression that had gripped him. Ressa had turned his life upside down and he was that much happier for it now. “If only you can get somebody to have that kind of effect on Travis.”
“Humph.” Denise blew out a harsh breath through her nostrils. “I think that boy will need the earth to open up under his feet before he gets a clue. Kind of like you, Sebastien.”
Sebastien jerked his head up, the fork in his hand almost slipping. He had a mouth full of food and he couldn’t say anything with his mother sitting there—she’d get on him for that. Hurriedly, he chewed. “What? I don’t . . .” He stopped, shaking his head. Jabbing his fork toward his mother, he said, “You worry about Travis all you want. He needs it more than I ever did. He needs it more than Trey did.”
Denise’s mouth went white around the corners, but all she said was, “I’ll worry as I want to, thank you very much.”
“I think that’s a mother’s prerogative,” Marin said, kicking Sebastien lightly when he would have said anything else.
He caught her ankle and squeezed.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Denise, either.
Marin caught the speculation in her eyes and felt herself blushing and damn it all, that only made it worse. Sebastien noticed, too, and he gave Marin a quick look. She read everything in that look and tried to keep her cool as he smoothed his hand up from her ankle to her knee. “You know, Mom . . . there’s actually something I wanted to tell you and Dad. You think he’s got time?”
Denise’s eyes widened a fraction. “Well, I’ll just go and get him, whether he has time or not. Is this private?”
Marin snorted. “Nothing stays private in this family for long, does it?”
“Well . . . not generally.” Denise laughed as she rose, dusting off her long, rose-colored skirt. “I’ll be back.”
Abigale wandered over and nudged Marin’s knee, sitting on the other side of her. “You know, it’s a good thing the chaise is a large one,” Marin said ruefully, eying her best friend.
Abby was too busy taking in Sebastien. He hadn’t moved his hand. “So . . .” Abby propped her chin on her fist and studied Sebastien. “I saw you and Zach talking earlier. Is he going to pay up yet?”
“I’m not responsible for helping you collect on money owed, Abs.” Sebastien winked at her.
“You know, Zach was telling me—”
“So!” Denise sailed back into their orbit, her husband bringing up the rear. Ron gave her a nod and stroked his hand down his wife’s back.
“She’s all aflutter,” Ron said. “Ever since Trey and Ressa let us in on their news.”
“Another baby.” Denise’s eyes went misty but that didn’t keep her from narrowing her focus in on Sebastien. “So what is it you wanted to tell us, honey? I’m so happy to see you back at work, you know.”
“Ah, thanks, Mom.” Sebastien rubbed at the back of his neck and glanced at Marin from the corner of his eye. You or me, the look seemed to say.
She cocked a brow at him. This was his show.
Denise caught the look and she clasped her hands in front of her. “I knew it—there’s something going on between you two, isn’t there?”
“Ah . . . yeah. You can say that.” Sebastien stood up while Marin snickered.
“Are you two—” Denise stopped, closing her eyes. “No. You tell me.”
“I’m trying, Mom,” Sebastien said, looking exasperated.
By now, more than a few people had gathered around. It wasn’t just family at the house, but friends of Abigale and Zach, Keelie and Zane. That included some of the employees from the tattoo studio, Steel Ink, co-owned by Keelie and Zach. One of them was a bright, bubbly blonde and she clapped her hands, squealing. “Oh, wow! Are you two getting married? That would be so f’in’ awesome.” She bobbed her head at Denise. “Sorry, ma’am.”
Before Sebastien could respond, Zach snorted. “They ain’t getting married. Marin’s too old for him.”
Marin felt the hot rush of blood rush to her cheeks and for a few seconds, she was so embarrassed, she couldn’t say anything. The guests all found somebody or something else to look at
Sebastien’s jaw was like granite, eyes icy as he glared at his brother. Abigale didn’t look any happier as she stood, crossing her arms over her chest. “Seriously, Zach?”
He looked around, his expression growing sheepish as he realized how it might have come off.
Marin knew him well enough to know he hadn’t meant to be insulting. Zach had a bad habit of just inserting his size twelve shoes in his mouth at the drop of a hat. Still, her mood was precarious and as she stood, she dusted her clothes off and gave herself an assessing once-over before looking at him. “I hadn’t realized it was time for me to be put up on the shelf with the rest of the old maids. Think I need to start looking for different roles soon, Zach?”
“Hey . . .” He opened his mouth, then closed it with a snap. “Look, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just . . .” He shoved his hand through his hair. “Sebastien is just a kid.”
Marin laughed. “Hardly.”
“I’m twenty-six years old.” Sebastien took a step toward his older brother. “Yeah,
I get that I was more spoiled than the rest of you, and I know all of you saw me as an immature, arrogant ass for the most part.”
“Sebastien.” Denise stepped up. “That’s not true.”
“Yeah, it is. I was immature and arrogant. I’m still an ass sometimes.” He shoved his hair back, baring the scar completely and turning his face so that his ruined eye stared back at Zach. “But I’m pretty sure most of my . . . immaturity was cut out of me the day I nearly lost my eye. Killing a man, realizing you didn’t—couldn’t—save the girl . . . getting cut up in the process—all of that has a pretty rough effect on you.”
Zach’s mouth was tight, but he didn’t say anything. Just about everybody who wasn’t family had retreated.
Marin moved toward Sebastien and took his hand. She squeezed it, willing him to look at her.
And he did.
He brushed her hair back and her heart stuttered as he lowered his head and rubbed his mouth across hers. “Well, this kinda got fucked up.”
“Only if we let it.” She squeezed his hand again and looked over at Denise, then Ron, Zane and Keelie, finally settling her gaze on Abigale and Zach. Abigale didn’t look happy but her face softened with a smile as their gazes locked. “We came out to tell you all something. Be happy or don’t . . . it’s up to you, but I know you guys. I figure you’ll be happy. Even Zach, once he pulls his head out of his ass.”
She lifted Sebastien’s hand to her lips and kissed it. “We’re pregnant.”
***
“Okay. . . . first off, Zach really does owe me fifty. I always had this feeling about you two. But . . .”
Marin looked up as Abby slid into the room. People were still gathered outside, but Marin had retreated indoors, away from the heat and the noise. “But, what?”
Abby lifted a shoulder. “But . . . when? How? Wasn’t that long ago he was still stuck in the bottom of a bottle. And I know you. You’re not going to fall into a bottle with somebody. So I’m wondering how it all happened.”
Marin wasn’t surprised by the question.
Amid the congratulations and well-wishes and hugs from Denise and Ron, she’d caught the curious looks.
If somebody had told her that this would be her reality eighteen months ago, two years ago, Marin would have kindly suggested the person get a reality check. Then she would have tried to explain how things in Hollywood work and how the paparazzi will try to sell anybody as a couple and the production companies were happy with it because it was PR. It was good for a movie if people believed the leading actors were involved. Marin got that, even though she didn’t particularly see why it mattered. People loved the idea of people being in love, whether they were or weren’t. Just like plenty of people loved to see a star fall, she brooded darkly.
As Abby settled down on the stool across from hers, Marin picked up her sparkling water and debated her answer.
Finally deciding to keep it light, she said, “I’m surprised you don’t already know this. But . . . sometimes when a boy and girl like each other very much . . .”
Abby threw a piece of popcorn at her. Marin swayed to the side and caught it. “Thanks. I was getting hungry.”
“I’m not surprised. You didn’t eat enough to nurture a stick—not even a dead one,” Abby said dryly. Rolling her eyes, she braced her elbows on the kitchen island. “It’s just us. So . . . spill.”
“What’s there to spill? We slept together. I’m pregnant.” Marin shrugged.
“And how long have you been seeing each other?” Abby studied her closely. “I mean, when I saw the two of you last week in Chicago, it seemed like it was pretty obvious and now with the baby and all . . .”
Marin sighed and twirled her straw around in her glass.
“Okay, so you’re not seeing each other?”
“Would you let me finish talking?” Marin asked mildly. “Good grief.”
Unwittingly, her gaze slid up past Abby’s shoulder and she stared outside, unerringly seeking out Sebastien. He was talking with Javi and Keelie and the three of them were laughing. Javi was one of the tattoo artists who worked with Zach and Keelie. As Marin watched, he reached out and slapped Sebastien on the back with enough force to make the taller man stumble.
“So what is there?” Abby asked softly. “I can tell you that Sebastien’s had a thing for you for a long, long time. Zach keeps telling me that was back when he was a kid, but . . .”
Marin couldn’t keep from smiling. “Zach’s a funny one to be mentioning things like that, now isn’t he?” Then she shrugged. “Sebastien? Now, he hasn’t been a kid for a long, long time.”
The two of them shared a look and finally a slow smile cracked Abby’s face. “Well, you aren’t kidding there. He’s a like a little brother to me, but . . . damn, he turned out pretty, didn’t he?”
“Mine,” Marin advised.
Abby chuckled and reached over, grabbing Marin’s hand. “Don’t worry. I’ve got my own Barnes boy to deal with. And trust me . . . one of them is more than enough. You sure you're ready to take that on?”
Marin laughed. “Well, ready or not . . . I’m doing it.”
After a few more minutes, they went back outside, Marin mostly because she wanted to find Sebastien—and get something else to eat. Shooting would be done in two more weeks and she was starving. Screw the cameras. She could have one day to eat, right? Abby was checking on the food. Birthday or not, she didn’t know how to not work, it seemed.
Sebastien wasn’t anywhere to be found, though, and when she noted that Zach was missing, she heaved out a sigh and hunted down Abby once more. “Any idea where Seb and Zach might have gone?”
“Ah . . . if they are going to knock heads, you might as well let them do it.” Abby hitched up a shoulder. “You know at some point a couple of them always end up brawling at these family things. It would almost be . . . boring without it, I guess.” She paused, lips pursed as she thought that over. “No, never mind. I take it back. No, it wouldn’t. It would be lovely.”
“This is over me.” Grimly, Marin turned her back and stared over the sprawling yard, trying to figure out where they might have gone. If they’d come in through the kitchen, she would have seen that. But the house was huge, with a patio that spread around the backyard and half the side yard, opening the house up, so that in almost any room on the lower level, somebody could wander out and stare at the endless panorama of the desert.
One of the rooms was completely off to the side—and completely out of sight from the majority of the people in the backyard. If Marin and Abby hadn’t been standing near the back where a tiki bar had been set up with ice and drinks, Marin wouldn’t have seen it.
“They wouldn’t want Mama Barnes to know,” she said, narrowing her eyes.
Abby followed her line of sight. “She always finds out. Marin, just let them bash heads.”
“How about I bash their heads?”
Lips pursed and drawn to the side, Abby pondered that idea. “I’ve thought about doing that more than once, actually.”
But Marin wasn’t listening. She was already halfway across the yard.
By the time Abby caught up with her, both of them could hear the voices coming from inside the house. A few others could as well, but they were being polite and pretending not to notice. Or maybe they were just pretending not to notice so Denise wouldn’t pick up on their interest, thus ruining their fun.
***
“You’re going to be a daddy, Sebastien. I think that requires a little more than you having some sort of high school hang-up on one of my oldest friends!” Zach snapped. “Are you ready to grow up or not?”
Sebastien was trying hard not to lose his temper, remembering a time when he’d decided to open his mouth about Zach and Abby’s relationship—he’d been a dumb-ass and in this moment, he could understand just how much of a dumb-ass he had been.
“I’m pretty sure this doesn’t really involve you, so why don’t you let Marin and me handle it, okay?” The scar on his face was itching—it tended to do that when he was stressed—or pissed—and he was fighting the urge to scratch at it. It wouldn’t help at all.
“How in the hell can it not involve me?” Zach gaped at him, looking like he was two seconds away from exploding. “She’s one of my best friends—she’s my wife’s best friend. You’re my brother. The two of you are having a kid. You’re not really even involved or we would have heard something about it before now.”
“Zach,” he said, warning in his tone.
But Zach was too riled up to hear it, pacing now. The tattoos on his arms rippled and danced as he shoved both hands through his hair. “What the hell happened . . . Were you two rehearsing and just decided to say fuck it—”
“I’m in love with her!” Sebastien shouted, his hold on his temper cracking.
Zach stopped pacing, slowly turning to face Sebastien.
But if Sebastien thought his older brother had finally gotten the point, then he was in for a rude awakening. Zach just sighed, shaking his head. “Hell, kid. You thought you loved Monica. You were ready to ask her to marry you not that long ago. And now you think you’re in love with Marin?”
For a second, Sebastien didn’t say anything. Then he started to laugh. “Shit, are you and me the same person? Didn’t we have this argument—only it was reversed? I was convinced you would be happier in Hollywood and you kept telling me you were happy with Abby . . .” He gestured between them. “We’re talking at each other—or rather I’m talking to you and you’re talking at me because you won’t listen to what I’m saying.”
“I am listening.” Zach sounded exasperated. “Look, I just . . . You say you love Marin, but what about the past year? You’ve been brooding, and don’t try to act like it wasn’t about Monica. That’s what has you so depressed. It’s not like you don’t have reason—”
“Just stop. Right there.” Sebastien pointed a finger at his older brother and something in his voice must have cut through. “Now this?”
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