Page 8 of All You Need Is Love

Tyler stuck his head through the doorway. “You ready, man? We’re going to walk to my parents’ now.”

“Yep.” He followed Tyler into the hallway and toward the front door, where Gabrielle waited in a pair of shorts and a purple tank top that hugged her belly. Quinn appeared from the hallway right after them, dressed in white ankle pants that clung to her curves, a black shirt that easily cost a few hundred, red heels, and makeup done to perfection.

As a group, they walked two blocks toward one of the largest houses on the street. Instead of knocking, Tyler opened the door and called into the house. “Mom, Dad, we’re here.”

Marshall’s palms began to sweat. Quinn looped her arm through his and leaned close. “We’ve got this.”

He barely had time to nod before she pulled him through the door and into a living room with wood floors, white leather couches, white curtains, pale seafoam-green walls, and silver knickknacks on the custom white oak coffee table.

Then a petite woman with silver-blonde hair rounded the corner and held out her arms. “Quinn, baby! You’re home.”

Quinn stiffened beside Marshall but dropped his arm so she could embrace the woman. “Hey, Mom.”

Her mother pulled back, tears glistening in her eyes, and turned her attention to Marshall. “And you must be Quinn’s boyfriend.”

He held out his hand. “Marshall St. John. A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Baker.”

“Genevieve, please.” Then, despite her slight frame, she tugged him into a hug too. “Come on in, you all. Dinner will be ready soon. Dad’s grilling steaks out back.”

After quick hugs for Tyler and Gabrielle, Genevieve led the way through a brightly lit hallway toward a kitchen that looked like something out of a home decor magazine. His entire Brooklyn apartment could probably fit into this kitchen. Maybe after his promotion, he’d be able to afford something bigger.

Quinn grabbed his hand, gave him a meaningful look, and whooshed him through the sliding screen door onto a raised deck with a gorgeous view of the marina and ocean not a half-mile away. The sharp scent of smoke and peppercorn emanated from the built-in grill, where a thin, balding man stood in a blue apron. At the sight of Quinn, he set his grilling spatula and mitt down, strode over, and hugged his daughter.

When he pulled back, Quinn stepped away and reclaimed Marshall’s hand. “Marshall, this is my dad, Thomas Baker. Daddy, this is my boyfriend, Marshall St. John.”

Something clattered to the ground behind them, and they all turned to find a petite woman with an overturned plastic bowl of potato salad spilled at her feet.

Marshall sucked in a sharp breath. What was Shannon doing here?

“And that is my clumsy baby sister, Shannon.” Quinn’s voice held a smirk, but Marshall didn’t turn to see if the expression on her face matched.

He couldn’t look away from Shannon, whose high cheekbones were spotted red and set against a pale face otherwise drained of color.

Sister?

“Boyfriend?” Shannon squeaked.

He wanted to step forward, to explain the situation, to assure her that he hadn’t lied—not to her. Not that he’d ever said he was single and available, but the way he’d acted, called her beautiful…

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Quinn interlaced their fingers together. “You knew I was bringing him with me.”

“Right.” Ducking her head, Shannon knelt to turn the bowl right side up.

And Marshall couldn’t help it. He strode toward her, squatted, and helped her scoop the chunks of potato, pickles, and hard-boiled egg into the red container. “Shannon…” He whispered her name, begging her to look at him.

But she just grabbed the bowl and raced back into the house.

“I forgot.” Quinn snagged a cloth napkin off the glass-topped patio table and handed it to him. “She’s super shy around guys.”

Guess he could see that. This morning, she’d been adorably awkward with him at first, but eventually she’d opened up. Thanking her, Marshall took the napkin and cleaned off his fingers, which smelled strongly of mustard and mayo.

Shannon was here. Here.

This never would have happened in New York. There, the chances of seeing Shannon again would be a million to one. And she definitely wouldn’t have turned out to be his fake girlfriend’s sister.

Yet another strike against small towns.

It took fifteen more minutes before the steaks were finished. In that time, Tyler grabbed him a beer and Marshall shot the breeze with the men while the women gathered food inside. He tried to concentrate on their questions about his job—thankfully they steered clear of the topic of his and Quinn’s “relationship”—but Marshall couldn’t help but sneak glances toward the back door, hoping for a peek at Shannon again. The other women made appearances, setting the table and asking the men their drink preferences, but Shannon stayed tucked away inside until everything was ready and everyone else was seated at the table. Finally, she appeared and sat across from Marshall.

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