And then he had to go and open his mouth.
“Did she tell ye we’re merrit?”
Sean lifted his whiskey. “That’s right. Could I get a little more information about that?”
Catriona dropped her chin to her chest.
Here we go.
She decided to keep the explanation simple. “The fake marriage we had turned out to be real.”
“So you’re serious? You’re actually married?”
Broch spoke before diving under again. “Aye.”
“On paper,” Catriona corrected, speeding up her speech in the hopes of explaining before Broch resurfaced. “I’ll get it figured out. It’s a mistake.”
“Does he think it’s a mistake?” asked Sean, motioning toward the pool as the Loch Ness Monster in the plaid shorts touched the far end and turned.
“We’re—” Catriona cut short and shook her head. She didn’t want Broch to hear her talking about a quickie divorce and the man was going to have to come up for air soon.
“We’re in discussions,” she added as he broke the surface.
Sean reached to retrieve his glass. “Well, let me know if I need to buy a gift.”
“I’d like not going to this party as my wedding gift.”
“Sorry. Fresh out of those.” Sean looked at his watch. “Hm. He’s running late.” He picked up his cell phone and made a call. A moment later he set down the phone again and stared over his back wall at the desert landscape, pensive.
“I assume he didn’t answer?”
“No.” Sean tapped the table with his fingertip. “Something must have come up. You two will have to go soon. Let’s get you fed.” He stood and walked inside while Catriona watched Broch swim the length of the pool and back before getting out.
She stood and handed him a towel from a weatherproof plastic locker in the corner of the patio.
“Go get a shower. We’re going to eat and then we have to work a party.”
“Work a party?”
“We’re security.”
“Och.” Broch nodded.
“And stop telling people we’re married.”
He grinned and kissed her hairline. “Bit we are.”
Chapter Nine
“I wonder where Luther is,” said Catriona as she and Broch walked toward the Devil’s Warehouse set. Her father’s friend and partner had never arrived for dinner, which was more than strange. While Sean was still at the house when they left for the party, she suspected he’d soon be in his precious Jaguar, off to find Luther.
“’Tisn’t lik’ him,” agreed Broch.
“We need to get this party over and get back to L.A.” Catriona knew she couldn’t make the party go any faster but, somehow, saying the idea out loud made her feel better.
Some of the guests had already arrived. She’d seen paparazzi turned away at the gate, which was a good sign things weren’t yet out of control in the name of publicity. No doubt the air above already buzzed with camera-strapped drones, but the prying eyes wouldn’t see a thing once everyone entered the windowless building doubling as the film’s main stage and party location.
Broch tugged at his tight-fitting collared dress shirt as if it were trying to choke him. “Ah feel lik’ a haggis tucked in a sheep’s tummy.”
“Sheep eat haggis?”
Broch looked at her as if she were a Martian.
“Sheep is haggis. Ye stuff their heart, liver ’n pipes intae the tummy casing afore ye cook it.”
Catriona watched as Broch licked his lips at the thought.
Gross.
“Haggis is cooked in a sheep’s stomach?”
“Aye.”
“Blech. I don’t even want to know what the pipes are.”
“The pipes, ye ken.” Broch took a deep breath and pointed at his chest. The button nestled between his pectoral muscles popped off and plinked Catriona on the cheek.
“Ow.” She glanced down and knew there’d be no finding the button. Konrad had strings of lights dangling from the parking lot to the front door of the building, but the illumination fell far short of sufficient for finding buttons in the desert sand.
“Now you’ve done it. I told you not to flex. Sean underestimated your peckage.”
Broch huffed and nearly blew another button. “Ah didnae flex, ah breathed. Pipes ur lungs.”
“Well, don’t breathe anymore.” Catriona paused to fold down the edge of his shirt to hide the missing button. “We’ll go with the sexy deep-V tonight. Hopefully that look is in this particular five minutes before Hollywood fashion changes again.”
His gaze traced the curve of her tight-fitting dress. “Ye keek bonny this forenicht.”
Catriona shifted the bodice of her dress self-consciously. It seemed Sean had underestimated her own peckage as well. Her breasts spilled over the top like a flash flood of flesh.
“Keek isn’t a word, it’s look, but thank you. Now keep your mind on the job.”
She heard him mumble to himself.
“Is tae a word.”
They approached a young man standing at the door. He raised his tablet and Catriona felt her mood darken.
Not again.
“Name?” he asked.
“Catriona Phoenix and Brochan...er...” She’d forgotten they’d yet to christen Broch with a surname. He’d only known himself as Brochan when he arrived. Since then, they’d discovered he was Sean’s real son, so she guessed Sean had used his own last name when adding them to the party list.
“Brochan Shaft.”
She heard it the moment the words left her lips.
Oh no.
The young man squinted at her. “Broken Shaft?”
She winced.
I just gave him the worst porn name ever.
When Sean arrived from the past, nearly thirty years before Brochan, he’d been questioned about his last name in a room with the poster for the movie Shaft hanging on the wall. He’d panicked and said his last name was Shaft. He’d lucked out. Sean Shaft sounded acceptable. But Brochan Shaft—
“—tenstein,” she added, pretending she hadn’t finished. “Brochan.”
The young man’s glower grew deeper. “Brochan Shaftenstein?”
She dropped her head into her hand. Oh my god. This keeps getting
