Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
T hree open champagne bottles were grouped together on the ground, two empty and the third headed there. Jaylyn waggled the remaining bottle and frowned at the pittance of liquid in the bottom. “We’re out!”
“Got it,” Zander called, already halfway to the door.
That left the five of them—Jaylyn and Dante, who were side by side on a pair of chairs, Chloe on a lounger next to Zander’s recently abandoned one, and Brody and Reagan on the couch.
Reagan snuggled deeply into the blanket she’d been given, pleased when Chloe had come out with three, one the fleece that Reagan had handpicked for the gift basket. Jaylyn had piled her own blanket over her lap, her legs curled beneath her, but that was the only part of her that looked ready for bed. Her eyes were bright and excited, a sign of a true night owl.
Which Reagan was not. She covered her mouth to hide the yawn that had escaped. She’d been ready to go to sleep an hour ago.
“Champagne,” Zander announced, handing one bottle to Jaylyn and then refilling Brody and Reagan’s glasses with a second fresh bottle. Reagan waved her hand as a way of telling him no thanks , but the eldest Crane shook his head as he topped her off. “Sorry. We have one final celebration, and you’ll need champagne for it.”
Next to her, Brody grunted.
“Thought we forgot, didn’t you?” Dante’s lips curled into a barely there smile. Reagan had watched him out of sheer curiosity tonight. He’d been reserved around the majority of the crowd inside. After their cousins and the rest of the party had filtered out, leaving the six of them, Dante had changed. He hadn’t let his hair down per se , but he was more at ease than before.
“ Hoped is a better word,” Brody grumbled, but reached for his glass.
“Haaaaaappy biirrrrthdaaaaay…” Jaylyn started, and soon Chloe, Dante, and Zander joined in on a very, very purposely bad rendition of “Happy Birthday.”
“Your birthday’s today?” Reagan nudged Brody’s shoulder with her own. “You didn’t tell me.”
“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, a tinge of pink highlighting his cheekbones. She’d say it was cute but that was too tame a description for him. His humble reaction was endearing.
When the warbling had ended and the cheering began, Reagan reclaimed her champagne flute.
“To Brody,” Dante toasted. “My adventurous brother who never failed to impress me. I wanted to be him. Still do some days. Seems fortunate that he lazes around while the rest of us have to work for a living. I mean, except for Jaylyn.”
His sister punched him in the shoulder while laughter erupted around them.
“When you were off with Dad on adventures, I really wanted to be you,” Dante added.
“It’s true. He took you everywhere,” Jaylyn agreed.
“Tell us your favorite adventure, Brody,” Chloe invited.
“How he lost his virginity,” Dante said, earning a whoop of approval from Chloe.
“No! He can’t tell that story with Reagan here.” Jaylyn sent Reagan a questioning look. “Unless he’s told you already.”
“I’m not saying shit unless you all go first,” Brody said.
“I’m in.” Jaylyn scooted to the edge of her chair and drained her glass. “Refill, please.”
“I don’t want to hear this.” Zander shook his head.
“Wait. Do all of us have to tell?” Chloe asked.
“Yep.” Brody didn’t break eye contact until she sighed in resignation.
“Except me, right?” Reagan whispered as Zander topped off everyone’s glasses again.
“Especially you.” Brody kissed her mouth, which shocked her—she hadn’t expected the PDA in front of his family. She found it amusing that he’d been right about everyone coming outside the moment they’d realized he was missing. She wasn’t the only one susceptible to his charm.
“I’ll start.” Jaylyn cleared her throat, and Dante covered his ears. She swatted his arm. “I won’t be detailed.”
“Thank Christ for that.” He leaned back and crossed one leg ankle to knee. The rest of them leaned in the slightest bit.
“Coachella. Six years ago.”
“Fuck. I knew it. That event is bad news.” Dante’s mouth compressed.
“Six years ago? You were nineteen.” Brody sounded surprised, and Reagan shared that sentiment. She’d have expected spicy Jaylyn to have been an early bloomer.
“I know. I was ancient ,” Jaylyn said in response. “He was a DJ. My first and last. It was fun though, and we kept in touch a while. He taught me how to?—”
Zander made a show of humming and covering his ears.
“It’s not bad!” she shouted. Zander stopped humming. “He taught me to always demand respect from the men I’m with, or else don’t stay with them. Which is why I haven’t stuck with a guy since.”
“What was his name?” This from Chloe, who wore a wonky smile, likely from the bubbly she’d been drinking. Reagan was jealous. She wished she felt looser. She was merely tired after a long day of shopping and more shopping.
“Ludvig.”
“ Ludvig ?” Brody repeated. “That was his real name?”
“Yes.” Jaylyn turned to Chloe. “Next.”
“Oh. Mine isn’t a very interesting story, I’m afraid. High school boyfriend. Prom night. We didn’t even stay in the hotel overnight. Just for a few hours.” She hid her face in her free hand. “Ugh. I had no idea what I was doing.”
“Unlike now.” Zander rumbled in a deep baritone. He leaned over to kiss Chloe’s shoulder. Red as a stoplight, she beamed up at him before kissing his mouth.
“Ho boy. Time to leave.” Brody shifted in his seat.
“Zander. Stop sucking face and share,” Jaylyn demanded.
Thumb to his bottom lip, Zander was quiet for a moment before he said, “A woman in London took mine. I was sixteen, at a pub with friends, and she invited me to her house.”
“Underage drinking? I’m appalled.” Chloe grinned.
“No one asked our age, and we didn’t offer.” Zander raised one eyebrow. “Anyway, I finished my pint and off I went, leaving my blokes behind and cheering me on. In the morning, I realized two things. First, I remembered almost nothing because I was so piss drunk the night before, and second, she was twelve years older than me…and a lot less attractive than I’d thought.”
“Twelve years ?” That was Jaylyn.
“Never underestimate an older woman. She taught me how to?—”
“Don’t say demand respect,” Dante joked.
Zander gave them a toothy smile. “She taught me everything but respect, as I recall.”
“Dante?” Chloe asked. “Help take my mind off that, will you? I bet your story is the most sophisticated.”
His spine went straight, any hint of levity vanishing. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Bullshit. It was Honesty.” Brody earned a glare from his brother. Reagan didn’t realize that Honesty was a person until Zander spoke.
“Your college girlfriend?”
“No way did you wait until college!” Jaylyn sounded personally affronted.
“I was a year younger than you when I lost mine.”
“What a pair of procrastinators,” Brody said.
“How long did you two date?” Reagan asked, the curiosity killing her.
“Three years,” Brody answered.
“Wow.” She was struggling to picture stiff, reserved Dante as an in-love college student.
“They were disgustingly in love. Like these two.” Brody gestured to Zander and Chloe.
“Your turn.” Dante wasted no time turning the spotlight onto Brody, which was a bummer. Reagan wanted to hear more about Dante’s ex.
“Wait! Let’s guess.” Jaylyn rubbed her hands together. “Marla.”
“Becki,” Zander added.
“Oh, Leesa. Lindy?” Jaylyn said. “Laura? Why did you date so many girls with L names?”
“It was Petrina. Or Danica.” Dante seemed to enjoy watching his brother squirm. Reagan wondered how many ex-girlfriends Brody had, but she also didn’t want to know.
“You’re making me sound like a fuckboy.” Brody wrapped his arm around Reagan’s chilly shoulders. He rubbed his hand along her arm, to warm her or console her, she didn’t know which.
“If the shoe fits.” Dante smirked.
“Not a fuckboy,” Brody said. “Just open to experiencing life. The answer, since you vultures won’t stop picking at me”—he spared Reagan a glance before continuing—“is Jama Picone.”
Gasps all around. Reagan took in the shocked faces, feeling left out, until perplexed Chloe asked, “Who’s Jama Picone?”
“Same question,” Reagan said.
“Soap opera actress. Brody had a walk-on part on Loving and Living for a handful of episodes. Jama played his girlfriend who was pregnant with his baby on the show.” Jaylyn laughed. “Life imitates art, Bro?”
“Definitely not—Jama and I didn’t have a single pregnancy scare. Thank Christ. But we were only together a handful of times. Usually in her dressing room.” He offered a crooked smile. “We should have been supervised.”
“Weren’t you fifteen years old when you filmed that show?” Zander asked.
“Fifteen and a half,” Brody corrected.
“Scandalous,” Reagan put in, enjoying that tinge of rose on Brody’s cheeks. “What did Keaton Killdeer have to say about that?”
“She didn’t know. She was in her own dressing room with Tony Barrett.”
“He played the bad guy on the soap,” Jaylyn filled in for Reagan’s and Chloe’s sakes.
“Tony Barrett, I remember. I watched the show some. My grandmother, who raised me, loved it. I don’t remember seeing you.” She slid Brody a look. He was a teenage heartthrob, she’d bet. “Poor Jama probably didn’t know what hit her when you turned those golden-brown eyes on her.”
Brody’s smile was cocky. “Sound familiar?”
She swallowed a laugh, not wanting to admit that it sounded almost too familiar.
“Your turn.” Jaylyn cocked her head in Reagan’s direction, challenge in her dark eyes.
“Reagan is passing on this juvenile game,” Brody said.
“No, I don’t mind. Everyone else played. Unless you can’t handle knowing.” She raised one eyebrow.
While he didn’t look thrilled, he refused to back down. “Go ahead.”
“I was raised by my grandparents, so I was sort of old-fashioned. It took a few years for me to find my footing. Plus, my mom was, and probably still is, an addicted gambler. She was a bad girl, so I made it my business to be the goodest girl there was. I held on to my V-card for a while. Longer than I should have.” She slanted a glance to Brody whose eyes visibly widened. “A lot longer.”
“No,” Chloe breathed.
“No way,” Jaylyn sort of repeated.
“Then I met Brody and I decided it was time to finally lose my virginity.”
He paled.
“I couldn’t tell myself no, and I simply couldn’t resist…” She took a deep breath and finished with, “Letting him and his entire family believe that he was my first.”
Everyone laughed except for Brody, who let out a ragged exhale. With his hand on his chest, he said, “Jesus, Reagan.”
“Gotcha.” She giggled.
“You’re going to pay for that.”
“That was crafty. What’s the truth?” Chloe asked.
“Similar to your story. High school boyfriend, but not prom. Just a random Saturday night at his house when his parents were on vacation.” She wrinkled her nose. “Nothing half as exciting as your combined histories.”
“Small-town girls unite,” Chloe said, holding her glass up.
Reagan raised her glass and offered a distant cheers.
“Are your grandparents still living?” Chloe asked after she took a drink of her champagne.
“My grandfather is alive, yes. He sold the house to Brody.”
“The house you grew up in,” Chloe said. “You didn’t want to keep it for yourself?”
“I was living with a guy at the time and thought we’d end up married. I mean, we didn’t have a date set or anything, but I assumed. My grandfather sold it with my blessing. In a strange twist of fate, Brody hired me to help him with repairs, and now here I am.”
“What about your mom?” Jaylyn asked. “Where’s she?”
“Guys,” Brody said. “Don’t grill her.”
“It’s okay.” Reagan placed her hand on his leg. She was grateful for the protection, but she didn’t need it. “I haven’t heard from her in six or seven years now. She was in recovery but fell off the wagon again. Once my grandparents adopted me as a teen, she had fewer and fewer reasons to come around. She used to leave me with them a lot when I was a kid. Ike—my grandfather—said if she could leave her daughter behind, then she was no daughter of his. I think they made some headway over the years. But he doesn’t talk about her much. I have accepted that I had a very unique upbringing.”
“In a house this asshole stole from beneath you,” Dante said.
“Hey. Fuck you,” Brody shot back.
Reagan went on alert, but then both men laughed, followed shortly after by the rest of the group.
“It’s our way,” Dante explained to her.
“A brother thing,” Brody confirmed.
“Sorry about your mom.” Jaylyn’s sympathy hinted that she was close with her own mother.
“It’s not as sad as it sounds. I don’t know what I missed, you know?” Reagan had seen and heard it all: the curiosity, the apologies, the questions about whether or not she was going to make amends with her mother. The truth was, she had no interest in amending anything with Ronnie Palmer. Her mother had left her behind. Being raised by two loving grandparents, and then Ike alone after Betty had passed, had been a gift for Reagan. She’d considered herself a lucky little girl to have been loved and adored by them.
“Enough roasting my date. I dragged her to this party, forced her into wearing a designer dress, and brought her out here to freeze her fantastic ass off.”
“He didn’t drag me.” Reagan amended, “Not exactly. But I admit, I am wishing for my PJs right about now.”
“It took some convincing for you to try on a rack of couture,” Brody said.
“Well, who can blame her?” Jaylyn put in. “You’re Richard Gere to her Pretty Woman .”
“Vivian,” Chloe reminded them of the name of Julia Roberts’s character in the movie. “Minus the hooker part since Reagan is a handywoman.”
“And his muse,” Reagan added, mostly to see their reactions.
“Stop it,” Dante said with a low laugh. “You shitting me?”
“It’s true,” Jaylyn said. “Brody believes in writer’s blo?—”
Both Reagan and Brody shushed Jaylyn before she could finish the phrase. He grinned at Reagan in appreciation before arguing, “Muses are entitled to couture gowns. Writing doesn’t happen without proper motivation.”
“And neither do sink repairs,” Reagan said.
It was a good ending note. Everyone was smiling, though the ladies had begun showing their first signs of fatigue. Chloe yawned, and Jaylyn’s shoulders drooped.
“I’m going to take my muse home.” Brody took the blanket off her lap. Instantly, she was cold. The temperature had dropped since they’d come outside, but at least it hadn’t rained.
“Back to your shared home,” Zander said. “Weren’t you advising me in January not to move in with Chloe?”
“I didn’t know Chloe,” Brody said with an apologetic glance her way. “I was going through something at the time.”
“With Alexis,” Jaylyn supplied, then to Reagan added, “Another actress.”
Reagan bit her lip to keep from laughing. She was starting to pick up on the humorous way they ribbed each other. As an only child, she hadn’t experienced brothers or sisters, so there’d been no opportunity to emulate or idolize them. The big, distant family that came together to jab at each other and then hug it out was new territory for her.
After hugs and goodbyes, she and Brody made their way out to the valet where the car was waiting. Thank God. She didn’t know how much longer she could remain upright in these shoes.
He opened the door for her and then rounded the car to settle into the driver’s seat. They went through back-to-back green stoplights in silence before he said, “Am I making you feel like Pretty Woman ?”
She smiled at the windshield. “Yeah, I guess you are. If you like, I can wear nothing but one of your ties tonight. We can recreate that scene.”
He snapped his head around to peg her with a heated glance. Then he floored the gas pedal, sending her back into the seat.