“I got him to move?” she asked, pushing away from the counter. “Exactly how did I do that? We’ve been seeing each other for exactly two weeks. He moved to Tucson years ago.”
The door opened, but neither of them paid it much attention.
“He’s spent more than half of his life doing exactly what you wanted him to do, Abby,” Sebastian said, his voice icy, full of disgust. “Are you ever going to—”
He cut a look over his shoulder at Zane. “Back off,” he snapped. “This is between me and Abby.”
“There shouldn’t be a damn thing between you and Abby,” Zane said.
Abigale glanced over at Zane and the look on his face was one of apology, but she ignored it, looking back at Sebastian. “Am I ever going to what?” she demanded.
“Sebastian, if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Zane warned. “I’m going to—”
Whipping her head around, Abigale glared at Zane. He’d been liked the big brother she never had, teasing her, protecting her, needling her. And right now, he was pissing her off.
“Zane, you shut the fuck up, or I’m going to punch you,” she said.
She was vaguely aware the door had opened again, vaguely aware that more people had trickled into the kitchen, but she didn’t give a damn. Sebastian was still glaring at her, although when he shot the people around them a look, a muscle pulsed in his jaw.
“We’ll discuss it some other time,” he said quietly.
“Oh, the hell we will.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at him. “You started this here. We finish this here. I want to know just how in the hell I’m controlling Zach. I want to know how I’m stopping him from chasing after a life back in California . . . even though he sure as hell doesn’t want it.”
“How would you know?” Sebastian snapped. He shoved a hand through his hair and advanced on her, bending down to snarl in her face. “You don’t know shit about what he wants, because the one thing he does want? You’ve never even—”
His eyes shot over her shoulder and Abigale watched as he slowly straightened. His jaw clenched and that pretty face of his went hard as stone. “Zach.”
A hand came up and curled over Abigale’s shoulder. Abruptly, the rush of anger cleared from her head and she felt a little sick as she looked around. Almost the entire family had gathered in there. Not just Denise and Ron. Not just Zach’s brothers and their dates. But cousins, kids, friends. Nearly thirty people had managed to squeeze their way inside the brightly-lit kitchen and they were now watching the entire thing.
Pressing a hand to her belly, she blew out a breath and then shifted her attention over to Denise and the twins. The hell if she apologized to Sebastian, the jackass. But Denise, the twins . . . it was their day. “Denise, guys, I am so sorry,” she whispered.
Denise’s eyes snapped and burned, but she smiled at her. “Abby, I don’t think you’re the one who needs to apologize.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as he slid his mother a look.
Then he looked back at Abigale and like he was chewing off ragged bits of rusty metal, he bit out, “Sorry.”
Without looking at anybody else, he turned to go.
Zach, until that moment, hadn’t said a word. But then, after a gentle squeeze on her shoulder, he eased around her. “Sebastian, kid . . . you and me need to have a word.”