by Elise Faber
I’d never felt the need with Pierce.
Our conversations, our blips of quiet had been comfortable from day one.
I supposed it wouldn’t necessarily cross over to his entire family.
Except, I got as far as opening my mouth before Kate said, “You’re really good with Thomas. He’s usually so shy.”
I should have known the Daniels hoard would be able to carry a conversation.
“He’s adorable,” I agreed. “They all are.”
Kate smiled. “I think so, too. Of course, I’m biased.” A beat. “Do you have any of your own?”
“Oh, no,” I said. “I like kids, always thought I would have some one day, but I never . . .” I shrugged off the wave of longing. “Well, anyway, I think I’ve worked my way through those prime reproductive years and now it’s too late.”
“No,” Marie said. “What are you? Thirty-three? Thirty-four?”
“Forty-two.” I laughed at their shocked expressions. “I wasn’t kidding about the whole fifteen years older thing.”
“Wow,” Kate said. “I need your beauty care routine.”
My lips twitched. “I think most of it comes from not having to wrangle a bunch like that.”
The table laughed.
“Katie’s right though,” Hank said once they’d stopped. “Tom doesn’t really talk to strangers much. He must have seen something special in you.”
I bit my lip.
Marie outright snorted.
Pierce came and sat at the table, “I think you’ve been watching too much Sesame Street.”
Hank threw up his hands. “You guys are terrible. I’m trying to give the woman a compliment.”
“I’d rather hear how it was to work with Zane Potter,” Kate said. “Is he as gorgeous in person as he is in the movies?” The sigh that followed her question was a typical response to the sexy-as-sin A-lister.
Pierce made a disgusted noise, one that was echoed by the husbands.
That too was typical from the non-fawning men and partners of the Zane Potter fan club.
“It really should be illegal how beautiful the man is,” I said.
“I knew it!” Marie said.
“But he’s also a really nice guy,” I went on. “It’s almost sickening that someone should be both so pretty and so lovely on the inside.”
“Ooh.” Kate squealed. “I’m so glad my crush can live on.”
“Okay, so now that it’s well-established our love of all things Zane Potter can continue, I want to know which of your films is your favorite,” Marie said.
The hardest question to answer. And also the easiest.
“Which of your kids is your favorite?” I countered.
“Chase,” she said without missing a beat. “He doesn’t talk back yet.”
More laughter, more smiles, more of Pierce just sitting next to me as the conversation flowed, as the teasing and chuckles continued. It was easy and effortless, as though I’d known these people my whole life.
Look, I knew I could charm people, could carry a conversation, and make it so that everyone in a group had a great time. The difference was that with this group, I didn’t have to. I was included and peppered with questions as often as I sat back and enjoyed the banter. Everyone got a turn, everyone dished it back in response. I was called out on my apparently egregious use of Dory’s special ketchup on her delicious meatloaf—which was some voodoo mystery magic with brown sugar and yellow mustard and ketchup that I could have taken home in a Tupperware and eaten by the spoonful—but then the teasing moved on to Kate and her hogging of the butter.
It was some sort of strange, delightful universe into which I’d descended.
And I wasn’t sure I wanted to be lifted back out.
I certainly didn’t want to leave when the sun set and the kiddos and their parents began yawning then eventually drifted off to bed. I didn’t want to leave after Dorinne gave me another hug and Jack a pat on the shoulder before they too cried off for sleep, being still on East Coast time.
I didn’t want to leave as Pierce sat quietly next to me, both of our gazes on the lights in the distance.
Nor when he got up and returned with the final bottle of wine, refilling my glass.
And I didn’t want to leave when he laced our fingers together as the sounds of the quieting house descended around us.
I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to leave.
But I finished my glass of wine and I went anyway.
Ten
Pierce
I awoke to the sound of a baby crying, the smell of bacon permeating the closed door.
Groaning, I rolled over and glanced at my cell.
Just after five in the morning, after having been up until almost one.
But I wasn’t irritated.
Rather, I got out of bed with a smile, happy that my family was there and that the house I’d bought anticipating their visits was finally full.
I showered, threw on a pair of sweats, then walked down the hall and into the kitchen. The crew was gathered around the big table that took up one wall. I could honestly say this was the first time every chair had been occupied, some of them double as the kiddos seated themselves on the adults’ laps.
“Morning, honey,” my mom said, waving a spatula from her place at the stove.
My dad grunted, face buried behind a paper, and Grayson greeted me with his typical full-speed hug and go. Thomas and the twins were occupied with pancakes, my sisters with feeding the littlest ones. Hank was stirring eggs on the stove. Joe feeding toast into the toaster.
I’d been fully invaded.
And it was awesome.
Seeing that adult pancakes were imminent, I pulled out some plates and silverware, bringing both over to the table.
“You furnished a playroom?” Marie asked the moment my ass hit the seat.
I shrugged, reached for the carafe and poured myself some coffee. “Had to give them something to do while they were here.”
“Same as the playground?”
“Weather’s nice. Might as well take advantage of it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t have—”
“I wanted to.”
“You—”
“Enough,” my dad said, gruffly, not a morning person, whether on West Coast or East Coast time. “Pierce has the money. He wanted to take care of the kids. Shut up and be gracious about it.”
Marie’s face went comically blank for a heartbeat before she sighed. “You’re the little brother,” she said. “We’re supposed to take care of you.”
“It’s a man—”
“You’d better not finish that statement with thing, Dad,” Kate chimed in, wrestling a spoon from Gabriella before she could launch it across the room.
“What?” He let the paper fall to reveal his face. “It’s not a surprise that a Daniels man would want to take care of his family.”
Marie narrowed her eyes, and I made the conscious decision to defuse the fight.
Yes, I did think my father had a point. This was my family. I’d bleed for them without a second thought, do without so they could have everything they needed. But I also knew what my sisters were thinking.
Our family was a unit.
We closed ranks. We looked after each other. We were Daniels.
That meant something, too.
“How about we all just keep taking care of each other?”
Marie’s gaze flicked between me, my dad, and Kate before she sighed. “Yes,” she said. “Let’s keep doing that. Except some of us don’t have unlimited income to keep our nieces and nephews in toys.”
Ah.
That was what this was about.
“You already flew us out,” she grumbled. “Now this and what I’m assuming are going to be extravagant presents for everyone. We can’t give that back, Pierce.”
“First of all, I don’t need it back. Everything I’ve given is because I have the means and I want to.”
“It’s too much—”
/>
I reached across the table, rested my hand on Katie’s. “I seem to remember someone sending me care packages when I first moved to L.A.” I turned to Marie. “Money being mysteriously deposited into my account when I was almost ready to give up on my dream.” I wrapped my fingers around my coffee cup. “I also remember everyone flying out for my first premiere, even though it was for that crappy indie film.”
Silence.
Then, “Damn, Pierce, you’re good,” Joe said.
Everyone laughed, the seriousness of the moment broken. Katie grinned at him. “So, you’re saying we should just shut up and accept it gracefully?”
“Yes, that.” I set my arm on the back of Marie’s chair. “You think you’re capable of that?”
A snort. “I don’t think graceful is in my vocabulary.”
My mom carried a plate of bacon to the table, Hank trailing her with pancakes and eggs, Joe with toast. Kiddos’ bottoms were shifted as the adults found their seats and for a few minutes, there weren’t any arguments. Rather, plates were passed around, syrup and butter were spread liberally onto delicious circles of carbs, and bacon was consumed.
It was the usual Daniels chaos.
But it was home.
And Marie stopped giving me shit about the stuff I’d bought for the kids.
I knew that would change when we opened presents in a few days time. Yes, I’d gone overboard. No, I wasn’t done, especially now that I’d decided to send them all on a vacation.
I thought that I might be able to swing some time off from filming in Turks and Caicos and there was a fabulous all-inclusive resort there, complete with a water park and even a swim-up bar for the kids that served fancy smoothies, and childcare so the adults could have some alone time. I was planning on sending an email that morning to Shelby to arrange the details.
So, yeah, Marie flipping out again was pretty much guaranteed.
It was also pretty much par for the course.
My mom was the first to break the non-food conversation, and she did it with a bang that my oldest sister should be proud of, setting her fork down and fixing me with the OG stare that had never failed to get one of us kids to spill our guts.
“So, Pierce, how long have you been in love with Artemis?”
A bomb might as well have gone off in that kitchen.
A figurative one anyway. Kate dropped her fork, Marie’s jaw fell open, Dad’s paper slipped from limp fingers, Joe’s eyes were practically lost in his hairline, a half-chewed bite of toast fell from Hank’s mouth.
Even the kids went quiet.
“Umm . . .”
What the fuck could I possibly say to that?
“I’m not in love with her, Mom.”
My dad rolled his eyes. “Bull sh—” Marie coughed. “Pucky. Any idiot could see that you’re head over heels for her.”
“We’re business associates, nothing more.”
Lie.
I thought of the way we’d sat on the back porch the night before, fingers laced together, words coming infrequent and quiet, but the silence that had stretched in between wasn’t awkward. It was . . . another form of home.
“Man,” Hank said. “You know I usually have your back, since we guys have to stick together in this family.” He ignored the scoff from Kate. “But even I can say with certainty that you’ve got it bad for her.”
“You like her,” Kate said softly.
“Of course, I do,” I replied. “She’s brilliant and beautiful. We always have fun together.”
“It’s more than fun,” my mom murmured.
I knew what she was getting at. The undeniable spark that Artie and I had. We were like two planets revolving around a sun, on our own trajectories unless we were close. Then we fucked with astronomy and created our own orbits.
Around each other.
It’s why we always found each other at events.
Why working together was proving to be effortless.
Why sleeping with her had changed me. Permanently. But—
“It’s not the same for her,” I said, picking up my fork and shoving a bite of now-tasteless pancakes into my mouth.
Marie nudged my shoulder. “If that’s true, then why does she look at you like you hung the moon?”
I shook my head. “It’s not like that with us.”
“Because of you? Or because of her?”
What had I been thinking about loving that my family was home? Because I was quickly rethinking that sentiment. They didn’t understand, didn’t know that even though I liked Artie, she would never let me close enough to bridge that distance she kept between herself and the rest of the world.
“I’m too young—”
“Nope.” Kate rolled her eyes. “Nice try, but if that really bothered her, she wouldn’t be able to joke so effortlessly about it.”
“She’s scared of commitment.”
“That maybe is true,” my mom said. “But it’s also not the entire story.”
I shot to my feet, crossed to the sink, and plunked my plate inside, whipping back to face them with crossed arms. “She won’t let me get close enough to love her.”
“If she’s worth it, you find a way,” Joe murmured, smiling over at his wife with softness in his eyes.
“And . . . that’s to say, I . . . she—I—” I dropped my chin to my chest, words shuddering to a stop as I realized just what I was feeling.
“I’m scared,” I said on a sigh.
My dad dropped his hand onto my shoulder, squeezed lightly. “Bingo.”
“It’s always easy to find the reasons to stay away, to keep your heart safe,” Marie murmured. “But when you finally find the courage to leap, to grab on to the possibility of something special, it’s worth all that terror.”
“Ringing endorsement,” I muttered.
Marie laughed, coming over to hug me. “Come on, it’s not so bad,” she said. “We’re here. We’ll help.”
May the film gods save me.
“Mare,” Joe warned.
My mom clapped her hands together. “Yes! We’ll all work together, and we’ll find a way to get you guys together.”
“Either that, or we’ll get you fired,” Hank joked.
Six sets of adult eyes—and a few young ones—glared his way.
“What?” he asked on a shrug. “Too soon?”
Kate walked over and smacked him on the arm. “Too soon, you pain in the butt.” Hank countered this by tugging her down into his lap and kissing her . . . then started tickling. My sister shrieked, squirming for several moments before he relented . . . and then kissed him.
Teasing. Tickling. Persistence.
It had won the most armored Daniels' heart.
But could it have a chance at winning one that had been wounded and sliced to shreds, one that had needed to be rebuilt with steel and rebar in order to survive?
For the first time in nearly six years, I thought I finally had the courage to find out.
Eleven
Artie
There was a woman on my doorstep.
With a child clinging to her hand, and Pierce was standing just a couple feet behind her. “Hey,” he said, with a short wave. “We’re just on our way out, but I wanted to drop by those photos I’d mentioned.”
Brows drawing down, I obediently stepped back, allowing Kate, Thomas, and Pierce to come through into the entrance of my house.
His eyes met mine and I shivered, remembering what we’d done the last time he’d been in my home.
“Fixed that table,” he murmured.
My lips parted, a rush of air slipping through. Then I stuffed the urge to launch myself into his arms deep down—his sister and nephew were there for fuck’s sake. “New one,” I said, keeping my tone light as I blabbered. “I redecorated last year. New kitchen, new floors. The only place I didn’t touch was my bedroom.”
His eyes went hot.
Shit. That was a miscalculation, mentioning the whole ed-bay-oom-ray thing.
Last
night had changed things between us. Hell, who was I kidding? It had always been different with Pierce than other men for me. I’d just been able to run and avoid, to pretend he was just the same as anyone else. But he was different. It was why I’d broken a rule by sleeping with him in the first place, why I’d looked out for him in the years since. Why I couldn’t stay away when I saw him.
Friends.
I’d really just wanted it to be that.
Unfortunately, I didn’t think that was where things would end up with us.
And that was absolutely terrifying.
I just didn't know what was more frightening—losing the small snippets of him I’d allowed into my life because I couldn’t be what he deserved or finding the strength to let down my barriers and allow him in.
It was why I lived my life in temporaries.
I just didn’t think I could live in temporaries with Pierce.
Where once I was able to ignore the draw, or at the very least smother the urge to leap into his arms, now I was on the struggle bus. Big time. Meeting his family, sitting with him on the porch, not needing to fill the silence, not having to be on or charming or funny. After my family had imploded, after my mom had died, I’d made sure to only need me.
And I wasn’t sure I’d ever had that.
A family that loved and cared and didn’t hurt—physically or emotionally. Sisters who teased and lifted up in equal turns, a dad who was quiet but steady and kind. A mom who was . . . strong enough to not allow someone to hurt her.
If I’d grown up in Pierce’s family—
“Your house is beautiful,” Kate exclaimed, pulling me from my thoughts. “And these floors are absolutely gorgeous. Was it a pain to have them redone? Hank and I are considering it.”
“Honestly?” I asked.
Kate nodded.
“I ended up staying in a hotel for a week,” I said, lips quirking. “I travel so much for work, but for some idiotic reason, I decided that I needed to be home to make sure they were doing it right.”
Pierce snorted.
“I know, I know,” I said. “My control freak tendencies are strong. But it backfired, because the one week I was home that month, I didn’t even get to sleep in my own bed.”
