“I think it’s fucking early,” she said, and frowned when the sound assistant approached with the boom mic. “We’re filming?” Her hand went to her hair. “With no warning? Sebastian, Mama Precious is not happy.”
“Well, Mother,” he said easily. “I thought you might like a taste of your own medicine after what you did to Chelsea yesterday.”
The woman’s eagle-eyed stare went to Chelsea and she shot her another withering look.
Chelsea waved.
“Your family is not going to like this,” Mrs. Cabral repeated. “Not one bit.”
“I didn’t ask them. Where’s Dad? What about Dolph and Amber? Cassie?”
“Cassie’s visiting a friend in Europe. Dolph and Amber are upstairs. Your father’s in bed because it’s early.”
“Come on, Chelsea,” Sebastian said. “You want to go wake up everyone with me or stay here with Mother?”
Chelsea’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m going with you.” She moved to his side and slipped her hand back in his.
Mrs. Cabral snorted and took a sip of her coffee.
Sebastian seemed to be having too much fun surprising his family. He was practically bounding up the stairs with Chelsea at his side, heading for the bedrooms. He moved to the first one and knocked. “Amber’s the youngest,” he said to Chelsea, then looked embarrassed. “You knew that, right?”
“I haven’t watched the show,” she admitted. Though everyone pretty much knew who the Cabrals were. She was pretty sure she’d recognize Amber if she saw her face.
Sure enough, the door opened a few moments later and a sleepy girl in an off-the-shoulder designer sweatshirt and sleep pants yawned. “What the hell, Sebastian?” She peered at Chelsea. “Oh. This the wife? Mom is going on and on about her.” She gave a little wave, her hand covered by the long sleeve of her shirt. “I’m Amber.”
“Hi. Chelsea.” She pointed at Sebastian. “His wife. Surprise!”
She giggled. “’Bout time someone bagged his ass.”
“All right, now,” Sebastian said, teasing her back. “We’re gonna go wake up Dolph and meet everyone downstairs. Can you be there in five?”
“Sure, just lemme put my face on.” She yawned again and shut the door. “Tell them not to film me in natural sunlight,” she bellowed through the door.
“Noted,” Sebastian called back, and headed farther down the hall, pulling Chelsea along with him. “Let’s get Dolph, then.”
As they headed down the hall, Chelsea could hear faint rock music coming from under one of the doors. Sebastian paused at it and knocked. He waited, then knocked again. Then he looked over at Chelsea. “Probably drunk again.”
Again? “Should we leave him alone?”
“Hell no. I’m waking him up.” He knocked one more time and then pushed the door open.
Dolph’s room was a mess of posters, junk, and dirty clothes. It looked more like a teenager’s room, though the man in the bed was easily college age. And slipping out on the other side of the bed in an old T-shirt?
Lisa Pinder-Schloss, her hair in a rat’s nest.
Her eyes went wide at the sight of Sebastian. Dolph just rolled over in bed, hugging a bottle of vodka.
“Well, this kills two birds with one stone,” Sebastian said drily. “We’re having a family meeting downstairs in five minutes. You’re both invited.”
Lisa’s hand went to her hair. “This isn’t what it looks like, Sebastian.”
“It doesn’t matter what it looks like. We’re not together, we won’t ever be together, and I’m married. You can sleep with whoever you want.”
Chelsea leaned in and waved. “Wifey right here.”
Lisa’s eyes went wide and she looked at Sebastian, then Chelsea. Her inflated lips quivered and for a moment she looked like a sad duck. “So . . . it’s really over?”
“It was way, way over two years ago, Lisa. Two years and some change.” He gestured at his sleeping brother. “Wake him up and meet us downstairs in five minutes. We’re filming a family meeting.” With that, he looped an arm around Chelsea’s shoulders and led her out of the room.
She looked up at him as they headed down the hall. “What are you thinking?”
A smile crossed his face. “I’m thinking I’m damn relieved to see that. Now she’s his problem, not mine. She must have decided to hook on to him when her story line with me wouldn’t work.”
“Not disappointed, then?”
He gave her a horrified look. “Never.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the brow. “Not in a million years. This marriage is everything I wanted.”
She doubted that, but she kept those suspicions to herself. Her mind went back to their foreplay last night. She’d been so into it, and then the thought of progressing into actual sex had freaked her out. She had to figure out a way past that.
Because she wanted to have sex with Sebastian now. She just . . . couldn’t. Not yet. But maybe she’d get there soon.
“My father’s downstairs,” he murmured to her. “Come on.”
She nodded and let him lead, her thoughts moving back to the big family confrontation. She hoped things didn’t get ugly between Sebastian and his family. The fact that he cared about them meant that they were still close. She didn’t know what that was like. She’d grown up in a single-parent home until she’d left for college and her mother had found religion and turned into a missionary. She was somewhere in India right now, ministering to the poor and trying to convert them. That was . . . really not Chelsea’s thing. She’d been more or less on her own since graduating from high school, with the exception of her bond with Pisa.
She hadn’t realized how much she missed having someone to lean on. To let her know she wasn’t alone and dependent on the goodwill of a friend. Because a friend was different than family. And Sebastian?
He was her family now.
Sebastian’s dad wasn’t what she’d expected. Maybe because his mom was so over the top and the rest of his family was a tabloid-loving group, she’d expected him to be a bit more like Mrs. Cabral, full of plastic surgery and vinegar. In reality, he was . . . old. Very old. Withered and gray-haired, he was still in bed when they knocked on the door. Sebastian helped him into his bathrobe and then into a wheelchair, and introduced him to Chelsea.
There was at least thirty years between Mrs. Cabral and her husband. But the elderly man had Sebastian’s green eyes and he grinned up at her. “My son picked a pretty one,” he said in accented English. “He is lucky.”
“I’m the lucky one,” she said, smiling at him. She clasped his hand in greeting, and didn’t miss the warm look Sebastian shot her way. However weird the rest of his family was, it was clear he loved his father.
They wheeled Mr. Cabral into the kitchen and immediately Mrs. Cabral came over, fussing. “You woke up your father, Nugget. That is just terrible of you.” She leaned in and kissed her husband on the forehead. “Are you tired, Daddy Money? Do you need to sleep?”
And there was another surprising aspect of the Cabral relationships, because while Mrs. Cabral was evil incarnate to Chelsea, there was real affection between her and her elderly husband. He kissed his wife’s hand and then gestured at the dining room table in the next room. “I’m here for the family meeting. Where are the children?”
“They’re coming,” Mrs. Cabral said, and she still sounded miffed. “Let’s get you situated at the head of the table, shall we? Do you want some coffee, sweetie?”
Over the next few minutes, yawning family members filed in. Dolph and Lisa showed up, both looking a bit embarrassed. Lisa’s hair and makeup had been fixed, and Chelsea noticed they sat on opposite sides of the table.
Sebastian sat next to Chelsea, her hand in his. He was silent as they waited for everyone to come in, but his fingers moved over her hand, tracing the lines of her palm and brushing over each knuckle and fingertip, then rubbing the back of her hand before gliding up her arm. Over and over, the soft touches continued, until Chelsea’s skin prickled with goose bumps and her nipples hardened in response. She wanted to squirm against his soft, caressing touches, and as she clamped her thighs together, she realized she was aroused.