Denise looked from Zach to Sebastien, lips pursed. “No, it won’t. They wouldn’t dare start anything at their brother’s wedding.”
“Of course not.” Abby grinned at her. “They’re too afraid of you.”
“Well, there is that.” Denise sat down in the chair Marin had vacated, her wineglass in hand. “But there’s also the fact that they know Zane would hand them their asses and Keelie would have a piece of them, too.”
“Nobody is starting anything,” Zach said, his voice easy. “It’s all good right, Seb?”
“Sure.” He slid his mom a sidelong look.
Denise Barnes smiled at him and nodded.
Of course, she knew he was lying. He loved her all that much more for letting him have his dignity.
A low laugh came from down the table and he turned his head, stared at Keelie and Zane. “I . . . uh . . . I think I’ll go offer them my . . . well . . .” He got up and moved down toward Zane. Zane, at least, didn’t make him feel like he was failing. Zane might know it. Hell, Sebastien knew it. But he didn’t need to see it in the faces of everybody staring back at him and Zane kept all that bottled up inside.
When he sat down in front of his oldest brother, Zane lifted his head from Keelie’s ear and looked at him with a grin. It was a softer, easier smile than Sebastien normally associated with his brother, and something he thought he’d forgotten how to feel settled inside him.
“Am I so out of touch that I missed everything about this wedding?” he asked, shooting for a smile. It worked, mostly.
“No.” Zane looked amused, glancing up at his new wife. “It was a bet.”
“A bet?” Sebastien looked from his brother to Keelie. “You two were already engaged, right? I’m not that out of touch.”
“She’s talking about a bet with me.” Ressa leaned in, giving Sebastien an appraising look.
He tried another smile, ready to get shot down.
To his surprise, she smiled back. It wasn’t particularly warm, but she wasn’t shutting him out, either. “See, I told Blondie here that a wedding was a lot more work than she realized and if I wanted . . . What was the phrase you used, Keelie?”
“I believe I said you were running around like a chicken with your head cut off—and you needed to have a glass of wine and chill out.” Keelie studied her manicure, a faint smile on her face.
Ressa snorted. “Yeah, well, not all of us are Mrs. Moneybags.”
“It’s Miss Moneybags,” Zane said, looking around her. “She’s the one with the money—I’m just marrying her for it. I’m spending the rest of my life as her sex slave.”
Keelie and Ressa both laughed, while Zane’s mouth canted in his faint, familiar smile.
“Better not let Mom hear you talking about being a sex slave,” Sebastien said.
“If it gets me more grandkids, I don’t care if Keelie did make him promise to be her sex slave,” Denise said from behind Sebastien.
He froze, his face flaming red and hot.
Zane grinned at him while Keelie blushed.
Ressa hooted, clearly amused.
“I think you two were telling Sebastien about the bet?” Denise said, slipping into the vacant seat next to him.
Sebastien darted a look at her from the corner of his eye.
She was looking at Keelie as though everything was normal.
Normal—he didn’t even know what normal was now.
“Yeah.” Keelie shrugged and glanced over at Ressa. “Well, after I told Ressa how she looked with the chicken thing and all, she got a little snippy.”
“I did not get snippy.” Ressa sniffed, looking put out. “I got bitchy, thank you.”
“Oh, well. My mistake.” Keelie tipped her glass of champagne in acknowledgement. “And she told me if I thought it was so easy, maybe I should just get to planning my wedding. After all, I’d had an entire year. What was I waiting for? I told her I was being polite—waiting for her. I could get it done in a week if I wanted. And she dared me.”
“Remind me to never do that again.” Ressa rolled her eyes. “I ended up having my bachelorette party here in Vegas.”
“Hey.” Keelie pointed at her. “I flew your guests out here. Don’t tell me y’all didn’t have fun last night.”
“Weeeellllllll . . .” Ressa winked at her.
They both laughed.
“So I’m here because of a bet,” Sebastien said.
“You’re here because it’s family.”
At his mother’s words, he looked over at her. He couldn’t avoid it any longer.
She wasn’t smiling. There were tears in her eyes and the sight of them hit him like a punch. “Mom . . .”
“Please, don’t.” She held up a hand and rose. “Weddings always make me emotional. Two of my boys now. Almost three.”
As she hurried off, Sebastien forced himself to stand up. “I . . . uh . . . I’ll be back. I should go talk to her.”
Chapter Four
Sebastien found his mom standing out on the wide, extravagant balcony that faced most of the glittering sparkle of Las Vegas.
She dabbed at her eyes.
“Go back inside, baby. I’m fine.”