Ruined (Barnes Brothers #4)(65)

“Sebastien . . .”

His gaze slanted toward her, a smile crooking up his lips. But he just kept speaking in low tones to the hotel staff. The man in front of him didn’t even look at Marin, just dipped his head and said, “Of course, Mr. Barnes. You needn’t be concerned.”

She had no doubt what they were discussing—Sebastien was asking for discretion. The concierge—she recognized him—was assuring him they’d have it.

There was a fifty-fifty chance. The concierge was a nice guy. She liked him and she could tell he liked his job. It was the others she didn’t know about. But she’d already resigned herself to the fact that news about her and Sebastien was going to come out, probably sooner than later. After yesterday, it wasn’t even a question now. If somebody was going to sell that story to the tabloids, she’d rather it be somebody who needed the money instead of somebody on set looking to be petty. It had happened to her more than once.

The doors soon closed behind the hotel staff and they were left alone.

She held the blanket to her breasts as Sebastien came toward her, wearing only his jeans, the light dusting of hair leading down in a thin ribbon toward the low-slung waistband of said jeans. “What . . .” She cleared her husky throat. “What’s this?”

“Breakfast in bed. Sorry to wake you, but we’ve got to hit the road soon.”

“We . . .” She frowned at him. “Why are we hitting the road?”

“We’ve got a few days off. I thought we’d do something useful with them.” He picked up two plates and came toward her, offering her one, and then putting his down on the table next to the bed.

She studied hers, found it loaded down with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. While he went back to where the breakfast had been so elegantly spread out, she picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled on it. Sebastien grabbed two glasses of juice and came back to her. “We’ve got a plane to catch in four hours.”

That had her arching a brow. “Is that right?” She could just bet she knew what he was thinking.

“Yeah.” He put her glass of juice down, but lifted his to his lips and half guzzled it. “I thought we could go to Tennessee, tell your folks.”

She bobbled the plate. “Tuh . . . We’re going to Tennessee.”

“Unless you’d rather call them.” He leaned forward then, eyes serious. “After yesterday, people are going to talk. People are going to speculate. After you passed out on the set, and then what happened between us . . . sooner or later, somebody is going to toss it out there and this time, they’ll be right. I’d rather tell my parents. Wouldn’t you?”

Instead of answering, she nibbled on another piece of bacon. Taking her time, Marin drank some juice, and then looked over at him. Because she knew Sebastien, she asked, “And when do we head to San Francisco?”

“We don’t.”

“We don’t,” she echoed, not quite believing him.

“It’s . . . ah . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, you know Abby’s birthday is coming up. It’s on Sunday. Zane’s is on Wednesday. My folks are going to be in Tucson this weekend, so I thought we’d crash the party.”

“And the movie?” She frowned at him. “You never did tell me why Sojo announced the sudden break.”

“Yeah. That.” Face grim, he looked away. “Sojo’s mother passed away. She had to leave to make arrangements. I . . . Hell, I called her earlier, offered my condolences. She told me to keep them, expects us all to be back and ready to work our asses off come Tuesday. Doesn’t much sound like she’s grieving. She just sounded pissed off.”

“Sojo’s mother threw her out of the house when she came out about being a lesbian.” Marin plucked at the sheet. “They reconnected—sort of—over the past year, but it wasn’t really friendly. It was mostly just being cordial if they saw each other at other family events. Her mother never really forgave Sojo for . . . well, for being Sojo...” Marin shrugged.

“Bullshit.” Sebastien shook his head. “Why’s Sojo even bothering to help, then? Let other family members do it.”

“Because Sojo still loved her mother. And if she sounded pissed off, that might be why.”

***

Telling her parents had been easy compared to this. And oddly enough, neither of them had been surprised.

Mom had given her an appraising look when they’d shown up on the front porch and Marin had the weirdest feeling that her mother had known—maybe not about the baby, but about her and Sebastien.

Of course, her father had teased them both something awful about her snagging a younger man. Sebastien had taken it all in good-natured humor and after spending the night, they’d caught a flight to Arizona.

This was going to be the hard one.

She didn’t know why, but ever since she’d disembarked in Tuscon, she’d been entirely too nervous.

She didn’t get it.

She was about as close to Ron and Denise as she was to her own parents—they were like a second family. This should be easy.

Speeding down the highway in Sebastien’s rented Corvette, Marin found herself lifting her hand to her lips—to bite her damn nails. A habit she’d broken years ago.

She stopped and clenched her hand into a fist, turning her head to stare out at the desert around them.