Ruined (Barnes Brothers #4)(54)

Marin hid her smile behind her hand as Sojo angled a look at Dash. “What was that?”

“Oh. Nothing, general.”

That didn’t settle quite so well with Sojo. She was well aware of her nickname and honestly, Marin thought she appreciated it—in private. But she didn’t appreciate it as much when it was laid out in front of her. Still, she didn’t address it. Instead, she kept her attention mostly focused on Sebastien. “Just how do you figure that Dash is to blame for the fact that you grabbed him—while he had his back turned, no less—and threw him to the ground? Really, Sebastien. That’s not like you.”

Marin saw the temper burning in Sebastien’s eyes and she started to shift uneasily on the chair, wondering if she should say something, do something.

“Yeah, Seb,” Dash asked, his voice sly. He scraped his fingers down his jaw, lightly raking the faint stubble his part in the movie called for. “Why don’t you tell Sojo and Marin just why I’m to blame for this . . . mess?”

His eyes gleamed and Marin could feel the pit of her stomach dropping out.

“Dash.”

He shot her a look and she read all sorts of trouble in it.

He’d held her while she cried the night before and then demanded she lay things out for him. Why does he think I am the father, Marin? You slept with him, right?

It had taken her some time to screw up the courage, but eventually, she’d laid it all out and Dash, God love him, had listened, nodded, patted her back. Then he’d called her an idiot and told her she had to tell Sebastien. Immediately. She’d reiterated that she’d been trying.

Apparently Dash decided he’d just pave the way for her.

I’m going to kill you, she mouthed.

She had a good feeling he knew exactly what she’d said because he said softly, “You’ll thank me eventually, darling.”

Sojo took in this exchange with no comment but before either of them could say anything else, she pointed a finger at Marin. “Be quiet.” That finger then arrowed in Sebastien’s direction. “Out with it. Just why is Dash to blame for you acting like a Neanderthal?”

“Shit, are you blind?” Sebastien shifted on his feet, one big shoulder moving in a restless shrug. “She was awake half the night crying. She’s not sleeping all that great to begin with and I was figuring it was because of the baby, but now I think it’s because that dick can’t keep his dick in his pants.” Sebastien gave Dash a look that should have skewered him.

Except Dash had nothing to feel guilty over. Rising from his chair, Dash smacked his palms against his thighs as if dusting them off. “See, this is where you’re messing up, Seb. It’s not my dick that caused this.” He looked over at Marin, offered a faint smile as if to say, Sorry, darling.

Marin just covered her eyes.

“Huh.” That was the only noise to penetrate the silence.

Marin parted her fingers, peering at Sojo through the crack. The woman had stood up and was shaking her head, looking both bemused and frustrated. “Well, I’ll give you credit, Sebastien. If that’s what you’re thinking, I can see how you might be pissed off. But how about you take your head out of your ass?” Then she leveled a finger at Marin. “And you . . . clear the air. Come on, Dash. We’re going to do some fast-talking and change up the schedule. These two need to talk. Marin won’t give me much but shit work today if she doesn’t deal with this.”

Sebastien still hadn’t said a blessed thing.

While the other two left, Marin rose, smoothing her robe down. “I’m going to my trailer,” she said calmly.

She was out the door, had almost closed it before he snapped out of whatever fugue he was in. But by the time he was moving and calling her name, she was already outside and Sebastien was smart enough to know that having this out—whatever this was—where everybody on set could see them wasn’t ideal. He caught up to her easily, his long strides eating up the ground. Tension all but emanated from him and it was hard not to respond to it, but Marin kept her movements casual and unhurried.

“I’m coming with you,” he announced unnecessarily.

“Really.” She glanced over at him. “I wouldn’t have ever guessed.”

They said nothing else until they were inside her trailer but once she’d closed—and locked—the door, Sebastien rounded on her, his blue-green eyes burning bright. “What in the f*ck did he mean by that? He can’t mean he’s not the dad. You told me he was.”

“No.” It was strange, really. But in the walk from Sojo’s to here, Marin had felt an odd sense of calm wash over her. Dash wasn’t wrong. She should have already done this and she couldn’t put it off. Jealousy over Evie aside, worry about his reaction aside, Sebastien needed to know.

Sebastien screwed up his face, scowling at her. “What in the hell do you mean no? No, what?”

“No,” she repeated. “As in no, I didn’t tell you that he was the father.”

“Yes, you did.” He took a step toward her.

Marin held up a hand, and although she couldn’t understand why, she felt like smiling, so she did. “Let me refresh your memory, shall I? I had just finishing puking up everything I’d eaten in the past decade—or so it felt. Dash had come by and he’d seen my vitamins, just like you did. FYI, that’s when he found out. Both of you are nosy bastards, really. He was there when it hit me—he opened a bottle of beer and the smell just gagged me. You said you heard shouting, it was probably him. He was worried when I suddenly took off running for the bathroom. It freaked him out and he called out after me. You came barging in—like a Neanderthal— saw him with me and you assumed.”