Page 89 of Close Match

“Oops.”

I’m shaking with laughter from the confines of Monty’s strong arms. “Better tell Marco you’re naming the baby after your dad, then, Simon. If he reads about it inPeople, he’s going to be pissed.”

“Actually, it’s Alexandre Patrick.” Bristol bites her lip anxiously. “After both our fathers.”

“That’s perfect.” And it is. Before I was able to separate everything Dad—Patrick—did for me, I think it would have been harder to accept Bristol honoring him this way. Now, I understand more because he was a good man, a good father. He just wasn’t mine and unable to work through those emotions to circle back to who we were before he died. I am grateful to him for everything he did for the time he was in my life though.

And then in a perfectly timed entry, my father and Char walk in the studio door. “So this is where all the fun is,” Ev jokes. We all break into laughter.

“Bris, I’d like you to meet my father, Everett Parrish, and Monty’s mother, Charlotte.” Bristol holds out her hand, and it’s swatted away by Char.

“We’re huggers in this family, darling. Welcome. And make it Char.”

Bristol laughs. “Thank you for having us.” She turns to Ev and before she can offer her hand, he wraps her in a quick embrace. “I don’t think I’ve been hugged by a client before,” she teases him.

Ev tilts his head to the side. “Wait, you’re Bristol Todd?” She nods. “Linnie mentioned your name, but I never put it together until you just said that. Well, I’ll be damned. You do damn fine work.”

“I didn’t think you’d know who I was, sir,” she says respectfully, resting her palms on her protruding stomach.

“Your bosses have wonderful things to say about you. I’m wondering how much my portfolio is going to go down while you’re out on maternity leave,” he jokes.

“Fortunately, I don’t have that problem,” Simon smirks. Bristol punches him in the arm, still clearly pissed from his earlier showmanship, and Char wheezes. “Oh, Lord.”

“Here we go,” Monty mutters.

“And Ev, Char, my brother-in-law, Simon Houde. Otherwise known as the worst kisser in America,” I tack on devilishly. Monty squeezes me so hard, I feel like my ribs are about to crack. “Hey,” I protest.

“I don’t think your new—geez, Linnie? How do we refer to Monty? Your stepbrother? Your boyfriend?” Bristol really should have gone into acting as her voice drops, “Your lover, appreciates the idea you’ve kissed my husband in the past. Or that you’re likely to do so again.”

If she weren’t nine thousand months pregnant with my nephew, I’d shove a cilantro smoothie down her damn throat for prodding the not-so-sleeping tiger at my back. Twisting around in Monty’s stronghold, I lay my hands on his chest. “Now, sweetheart, let me explain a few things about acting,” I begin.

“No, why don’t I,” Simon butts in. Smoothly moving over to Char, he captures her hand and yanks her to him. Her face is shocked stupid when Simon bends her back over his arm and lays his lips on hers. Monty’s jaw drops while I shake my head at the bemused expression on my father’s face. As he swings her back up, he grins unrepentantly. “And that’s how you do a stage kiss. Thank you for your help, Char. I’m—”

“A freaking dumbass!” I yell loudly. “Jesus, will you at least tell me you didn’t eat something repulsive before you kissed her?”

Simon throws up his hands. “There’s nothing repulsive about cilantro.”

Bristol and I say simultaneously, “Yes, there is.”

Simon haughtily proclaims, “This—this is the reason I eat it night after night. To annoy the crap out of her.” He stabs his finger in my direction.

“Where’s the closest brick of nasty-ass gorgonzola?” I threaten. Simon shudders and immediately goes to hide behind his wife.

She shoves him aside. “You’re on your own, buddy.”

“You’re my wife!”

“You told an entire group of strangers our baby’s name!”

Monty’s shaking with laughter behind me. The three of us turn on him and all yell, “What?”

“Mom” is all he manages to choke out. He points a shaking finger in her direction.

Char has a dreamy look on her face as she stands next to Ev. She’s being held by her husband of twenty-five years, who I know she thinks the sun and moon rise on, when she says dreamily, “I like cilantro.”

We all burst out laughing, including Ev. “Why doesn’t everyone come back up to the house? Char has some snacks ready, and we can all get to know one another.”

“Sounds perfect, Everett,” Bristol agrees.