Ruined (A Barnes Brothers novel) (21 page)

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?”

He made a gesture toward his face, but it wasn’t so much about the scars, or his messed-up eye and the impaired vision. It was about what had led to it—Hanson. Monica. All of it. “Just stop. This is one area you have
no
say in—no right to speak. You think I’ve been brooding . . . over Monica.”

Taking a few steps toward his now silent brother, he said, “In a way, you’re right. I
have
been—because I’ve been blaming myself.” When Zach started to speak, Sebastien just talked over him. “I should have seen it, realized something was wrong. I should have been able to save her—
something
. It was my
fault
—that was why I was brooding. But over the past few months, I started to realize maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I didn’t need to drown myself in a bottle. The person to blame was the son of a bitch who killed her—and the bastards who let him walk every time somebody else accused him of abuse. But not me . . . and not her.”

Zach opened his mouth, then closed it.

“What, nothing to say there?” Sebastien crossed his arms over his chest. “

“Seb . . .” Zach expelled a harsh breath of air. “Look, I know you went through a rough time. I think . . . No. I
know
that’s why this has me tripped up. I don’t want you latching on to something and hoping it will last just because it seems like . . . I dunno . . . something good.”

“Something good? You think me being in love with Marin is something I’m latching on to because it’s . . . something good?” Sebastien didn’t know if he wanted to laugh and explode. “You’re not getting it. I’m not
latching on
. I’m in love with her. She’s pregnant with my baby. That’s all good . . . and it’s all real. I don’t have to make up fairy tales to be happy and I’m not chasing oblivion in a bottle, either.”

“Not yet.”

The calm response had Sebastien jerking his head back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Marin. She’s in love with you?” The words, so flatly stated, caught Sebastien off guard.

“What?”

Zach turned around, shoving his hair back before leaning over the desk. They were in a library, a bright open one with windows that faced out over the property. The sun slanted in through the windows, but the party was taking place out back and these windows faced out over the side yard and the desert.

“Well, that answers the question.” Zach nodded, but not like he was happy with himself.” You two don’t act like people who are in love with each other, Seb. Abby sees me and she kisses me. I see her and I do the same. Keelie can’t keep her eyes off Zane, and have you seen how Ressa is with Trey? He can’t be near her without playing with her hair or touching her in some way. And Mom and Dad? Married almost forty years and they’re the same way.” Zach turned to him. “I haven’t seen you touch her except for when you two dropped that bomb on us. You’re not dating. The papers would be having a field day with it if you were. Marin always tells Abby when she’s hooked up and I end up hearing about it through her. Abby’s been teasing me about how she thinks you two
might
have something going, but if Marin was in love . . .” Zach laughed a little. “When she falls in love, we’re always the first to know, Seb.”

Zach continued to stare at him, commiseration in his eyes.

“You know what, Zach? Fuck you.”