“I should have been honest with you from the beginning.” He keeps coming, his voice low. “I care about you, Gabriel. I never meant to—”
The terrace door swings open with a creak, cutting him off. Marshall steps out, his hair damp, a white t-shirt clinging to his shoulders and chest, making his tan stand out. Dark linen pants hang low on his hips. He looks as if he just got out of the shower, his face clean-shaven and freshly scrubbed.
He takes in the scene with a single sweep of his gaze, and a shadow crosses his face. But when he speaks, his voice is perfectly polite.
“Mr. Ashford. This is a surprise.”
Blaine’s smile returns. “Marshall. Wonderful to see you. I was just catching up with Gabriel.”
“I can see that.” Marshall’s gaze flicks to me. “Everything okay?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“I was hoping to speak with Gabriel in private,” Blaine says, turning back to me. “If that’s all right.”
Marshall doesn’t leave. He waits, his eyes on mine, asking without words if I want him to go.
I don’t. I want Blaine to go. I want him to get back in his boat and drive away and never come back. But I can’t say that. I can’t tell Dad’s friend and neighbor to fuck off, no matter how much I want to.
I turn to Blaine. “Whatever you wanted to tell me, you can say it in front of my stepbrother.”
Blaine hesitates, looking between us. “Vanessa and I are having dinner at our villa tomorrow night. My niece is visiting from London. We’d be delighted if you’d both join us.”
I hold back a sigh. Dinner at Blaine’s, an evening of Vanessa’s empty chatter.
I look at Marshall, who’s watching me with that steady gaze. He’s waiting for my answer, so I give him a subtle nod.
“We’d be happy to,” Marshall says, turning to Blaine. “Thank you for the invitation.”
Blaine nods, but he doesn’t leave. He lingers, glancing between us, like he’s hoping Marshall will take the hint and go back inside. But Marshall doesn’t move. Instead, he steps closer to me, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder.
“Well,” Blaine says after a moment, his eyes flicking to Marshall’s hand. “I should get going. Vanessa will be wondering where I am.” He gives us both a nod. “We’ll see you tomorrow at seven.”
Marshall’s hand tightens on my shoulder. “We’ll be there.”
I say nothing.
Blaine turns and walks back to his boat, his shoulders stiff. I watch him go, my chest tight with a mix of emotions. Marshall’s hand stays on my shoulder until Blaine climbs in and starts the engine.
We both move to the edge of the terrace, watching as the boat pulls away from the pier.
When the boat is almost out of sight, I glance at Marshall. He’s watching the water, but there’s a tightness around his eyes.
I lean back against one of the stone pillars that frame the terrace and watch him. “What’s wrong?”
Marshall turns to me, his eyes scanning my face. “What did he want?”
I raise an eyebrow. “To invite us to dinner, apparently.”
“Please,” Marshall shakes his head. “He invented that invitation on the spot.”
I shrug. “That’s how Blaine is. Always scheming, always with an agenda.”
Marshall’s eyes narrow. “I don’t want him coming here anymore.”
“What can we do? He’s Dad’s friend.”
“I don’t care.” Marshall steps closer to me, his voice dropping. “Just say the word, and I’ll keep him away from you.”
