Page 14 of All You Need Is Love

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When Quinn had joked that her family made up half the town, she might not have been exaggerating.

Marshall tried to ignore his pounding temple as he focused on what his fake girlfriend’s uncle—Frank?—was saying.

“The economy has finally started to pick up around here.” Even though they stood in a group of eight or ten, the well-built man in his fifties directed his thoughts toward Quinn’s older cousin, Ben, the owner of the inn where the opening reunion night was in full swing. “Your friend Evan has done good work on that front.”

“Agreed.” Ben, a six-foot-something guy with broad shoulders and one arm slung around a stylish brunette with blonde highlights, took a swig of Coke. “He’s hopeful that the Christmas festival will continue to bring in sponsorships and money to help the local businesses recover.”

Marshall had no idea what they were talking about, but what was new? For the last hour, he’d met and conversed with at least fifty members of the Baker family, including the Griffin sextuplets who were second cousins on Quinn’s great-aunt’s side. Pretty sure, anyway. And there were at least fifty more he’d yet to meet.

The aroma of burgers wafted from the corner of the courtyard, where Tyler, his dad, and a few other people manned the grills. On the other side of them, a wrought iron gate stood open, revealing a path that led down to a gorgeous private beach. Some members of the Baker clan had already headed that way, but most stood inside the courtyard, sipping on drinks and laughing as they waited for dinner to be served.

Not for the first time, his eyes wandered upward from his place in the stone courtyard to take in the two-story Iridescent Inn. The charming B&B was a nice mix of historic and modern, with wooden clapboard siding, a wraparound upper porch with a staircase that descended into the courtyard, and pale blue paint that appeared somehow fresh, not worn down by the wind and sand and other elements at constant work here.

Quinn’s fingernails dug into Marshall’s palm as she tugged on his hand. “Babe? Did you hear my cousin?”

“Oh.” He maneuvered his gaze back to Ben. “Sorry, what’s that?”

The crowd chuckled. He’d definitely missed something.

“Not that cousin.” Quinn rolled her eyes, her giggle grating against the pounding in Marshall’s head. “Cameron.”

And which one was that again?

A guy with blond curls and a deep tan, wearing blue board shorts and a white T-shirt, waved his hand, a huge grin plastered across his face. Oh yeah, one of the sextuplets. “Right? We’re a lot to take in, dude. I just wondered if this was your first visit to California.”

Normally, Marshall had no problem with small talk. After all, it was part of being in the corporate world—especially the marketing world. But this mixture of trying to be himself without giving away that he and Quinn weren’t actually an item had him second-guessing almost everything he said.

Not to mention the fact that Cameron’s question instantly led to thoughts of Dad—and the reason Marshall had avoided the West Coast at all costs until now.

The blood in his veins buzzed, rushing through his ears to a distracting degree. “Yes.” He waited for a beat, then added, “It’s beautiful, though.”

Quinn squeezed his hand, gentler this time, and her smile indicated he’d done well.

For now. But he had a whole week left of this charade and was already worn thin over the deception. That didn’t bode well for his ability to maintain their story without cracking.

Of course, being around a certain blonde all morning hadn’t helped. In reality, that’s when his headache had begun. Shannon was just so … guileless, so sweet. Why hadn’t she totally filleted him for flirting with her on the beach when, by all appearances, he was in a serious relationship? Any other woman of his acquaintance would have done so with no problem. Either that, or they’d have turned the flirting up a notch to try to steal him away.

Maybe that’s why he found himself so attracted to Shannon. Not just the innocence surrounding her whole being, but how different she was.

And that was exactly the line of thinking that was going to get him into trouble. Because he found himself wanting to tell her the truth about his relationship with Quinn, but he couldn’t fully trust that she wouldn’t reveal it to Quinn’s whole family. And that would leave Marshall no closer to the director position than before.

He simply needed to stay as far away from her as he could.

Quinn’s family picked up their conversation again, this time discussing all the improvements Ben and Bella had made to the inn in the last year since an earthquake had damaged it. Marshall leaned close to Quinn and lowered his voice. “I’m going to get some air for a minute. Be right back.”

“All right, but don’t leave me alone for too long. This isn’t fun for me either.”

He grunted his assurance and headed for the door leading inside the inn. With such amazing weather—seventy-something at the moment and the sun headed for the horizon, promising an even cooler late evening—finding anyone inside was unlikely. Maybe he could find a quiet corner where his head would stop screaming at him.

The white door creaked as he opened it into what appeared to be the inn’s kitchen. Unlike the outside of the place, the kitchen seemed in dire need of an update—its cabinets boasted peeling paint, and a pale green refrigerator with rounded edges sat in the corner.

But it wasn’t empty as he’d thought. His eyes settled upon a very surprised Shannon, if her wide eyes and slack jaw were any indications. She stood over a small table in the eat-in kitchen space, a cookie in each hand. At least a dozen dessert platters containing an assortment of brownies, cookies, and little fruit-filled pastries covered the table. A partially filled plate sat directly in front of her.

“Hey.” He should go, but instead Marshall found himself shutting the door behind him, blocking out the noise of the reunion. The peace of the kitchen immediately filled his lungs.

Okay, he’d only stay a minute or two.

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