Ruined (Barnes Brothers #4)(44)

Now she was pregnant.

And he thought the baby was Dash’s?

Clearly he remembered nothing about their night together. She’d suspected it for a while, but it was like that entire night was a blur.

She just couldn’t keep up.

“You haven’t told me anything yet,” she pointed out, a desperate attempt to keep him from leaving. Even if it just kept him here a few more minutes, it would be a few more minutes she didn’t yet have.

“Yeah . . . there is that.” He hesitated, then after a moment, slowly reached up and cupped her cheek. “I was an * the last time you came out to my place, Marin. I said some things I shouldn’t have. Actually, I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have. I could give you a lot of reasons why, but . . . hell. None of it matters now.”

His gaze slid to her belly and he nodded one last time.

“Take care of yourself. See you next week when we start rehearsing.”

He didn’t look back at her, not even once as he headed down the steps.

As for Marin, she would have called out his name and demanded he stop, but a weird knot, bigger than her own fist had settled in her throat and it was choking the life and voice out of her.





Chapter Twelve




“I didn’t think it was possible, but you two are even better together than I’d expected.”

Sojourne Torré, the director, stood in front of them at the end of the first day of shooting and looked like she wanted to rub her hands together. Her dark face was creased with a wide smile and she caught Marin’s cheeks in her hands, planted a quick kiss on her mouth. “Beautiful, honey. You two are just beautiful together.”

Marin laughed as she pulled her robe on. “You’re just saying that because you want me to go out with you, Sojo.”

As for Sebastien, he was trying not to think about all the smooth bare flesh she was covering up.

They’d just finish shooting a dream scene—one from his character’s point of view. It was a bit more emotionally charged than he would have expected a guy like Rand to experience, but in Rand’s defense, the man had been dying at the time.

He accepted the T-shirt somebody offered him and pulled it on. He wasn’t much for robes, but the wardrobe staff hired for this project had plenty of people who’d worked with him before. A moment later, he was passed a pair of jeans to pull over the ridiculously brief jockey shorts and he was finally somewhat comfortable with the fact and hoped he could stop mentally imagining cow guts and sheep brains.

Normally he didn’t have to worry about things like that, but when it came to shooting intimate scenes with Marin, he’d developed a system. He had to focus on gross, unappealing things and half turn his brain off or he’d do what was considered pretty crass in the business.

He’d get a f*cking hard-on.

Leaving the shirt hanging out, he focused back in on what Sojo and Marin were talking about and watched as the director winked at Marin.

“Nah, I gave up on that. You’re too straight for me.” Sojourne looked over at Sebastien and pointed a finger at him. “I had doubts about you, Barnes.”

“What . . . me being straight? Sorry to disappoint you, Sojo, but I am.” He flashed a grin at her and everybody laughed. Sojo even cracked a smile.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re straight, although I know a whole lot of pretty boys cry over the fact. You nailed that scene, kid. Good job, both of you. All of you. We’re done. Get some rest. Back at it in the morning.”

She came over to him and Sebastien stood firm. There was a time when she’d intimidated the hell out of him, but he managed to smile at her easily enough. She smacked him lightly on the arm and said, “Keep up that intensity and this movie is going to blow people away, kid.”

While he rubbed at the back of his neck, Sojo turned to the rest of the cast, talking in a rapid fire voice with an energy that seemed to belie the fact that they’d been at it for going on twelve hours.

Sebastien wanted to follow the director’s orders and do just what she’d said, go get some rest. Actually, he wanted a cold shower. Or a hot one and some hand service.

Screw it. He just wanted Marin, then some rest.

But he wouldn’t get that, so . . . shower, hand service, then rest.

Marin definitely needed rest.

He almost told her that, but he’d learned his lesson about hovering.

The first day of filming, she’d been so pale, he’d suggested she ask Sojo for a break and she’d snapped at him, reminding him that she’d been acting since he was in diapers, thank you very much.

He’d pointed out that he was just worried about her, but that hadn’t done anything to lessen her ire.

Of course, he was the only one who seemed concerned.

Even Dash carried on like everything was perfectly normal. He was playing the murdered cop and there were a few scenes early on where he and Marin were happy, laughing, teasing . . . kissing . . . touching.

Kind of like what they were doing now.

From the corner of his eye, he watched as Dash whipped a flower out of a vase that stood on the snack table near the exit and offered it to Marin. She accepted, then smacked him with it and put it back. As they headed out, one of the other actors in the scene moved up to join him.

“Never would have pictured the two of them together. You two, yeah. But her and Dash?”