Malibu Rising: A Novel, Taylor Reid [best fantasy books to read TXT] 📗

“Shut up, Kit,” both Hud and Jay said.

“Sorry,” Kit said. “I’m just saying that of all things for the two of you to get in a fight over, I’m surprised it’s some girl.”

“She’s not just some girl,” Hud said, exasperated. “That’s what I’m trying to say. I want to marry her.”

To Mick, this seemed like the mad ravings of a pussy-whipped twenty-something. “Hud, you’re twenty …” Mick paused, realizing he didn’t know exactly how old his son was.

“I’m twenty-three,” Hud said.

“Right,” Mick said. “That’s what I was going to say.”

“You don’t know how old he is. You don’t know how old any of us are,” Kit said. “Just admit it. You don’t need to pretend so much.”

“I’m not pretending. They are twenty-three,” Mick said. “I knew that.”

Jay corrected him. “I turned twenty-four two weeks ago.”

“Right,” Mick said. His shoulders slumped. “Sorry. I forgot you two aren’t actually twins.”

Kit shook her head. “You are ridiculous. But at least now you’re telling the truth,” she said. “How do you ration it out? You get four honest moments a day?”

Mick laughed, despite himself. “Yeah, but I try to keep a couple in the reserve,” he said, grinning out of the side of his mouth.

The sound that came out of Kit’s mouth was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. Mick locked eyes with her and could tell she was almost about to smile. “What do you want me to say, all right? We all know I’m a shit. It’s not news. I’ve been a shit my whole life.”

Kit looked him in the eye now. He knew she was finally, actually listening. “I wish I was a better man,” he said. “But I was just never capable of it. I really did try, sometimes. But it was like putting lipstick on a pig. Some people are just shits, and I’m a shit.”

Hud found it hard to be mad at someone who was suddenly being so transparent. Jay found it refreshing, the idea that it was OK to admit you suspected yourself of being a dickhead, deep inside. Nina had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“Honestly, it never quite made sense why a woman as good as your mother picked me, but, you know, I did lay it on pretty thick when I met her,” he said. “The second I saw her, with her big brown eyes, I thought, Let me just try to be whoever she wants. Let me just pretend I can be good enough for her. And I really did become that person for a little while there. I know I failed at the end but … I did try.”

Nina turned and looked at her father. Mick caught her eye and relaxed into the softness of her gaze. “She deserved better,” he said softly. “I hope she knew that.”

Nina watched her father’s face. She watched his long eyelashes as he blinked, remembering looking at them as a child.

“She didn’t,” Nina said, her voice almost as quiet as breath. “She didn’t know that.”

Mick nodded, his eyes to the ground. “I know,” he said. “I know.”

Nina watched as his eyes turned glassy, as the corners of his mouth turned down. She began to understand something she had never suspected. He was sorry. For what he’d done to all of them.

Nina started to open her mouth, to say something, when she heard a rustling from behind her.

Everyone turned their heads to see a girl in a purple dress coming down the stairs.

4:00 A.M.

Tarine Montefiore was—for a brief moment in the chaos of the night—looking at her paramour, and wondering if she wanted to spend her life with him. He had, just earlier that day, asked her to marry him.

She had always liked older men and always liked spending her time with people who knew more than she did. She figured it came down to the fact that her father had been such a brilliant man. Tarine’s father was a linguistics professor who brought his whole family on his journeys, teaching in universities on three continents. And, through David Montefiore, Tarine had come to learn about the world. She felt she understood so much about life and culture that no man her own age could keep up with her. Also, her father was twenty years older than her mother.

So she liked that Greg’s skin was a bit rougher, that it hung differently on his body. She liked the taste of decades of cigarettes on his tongue, the creeping gray in his hair. She liked that when he put his hands on her ass, she knew that he could feel its relative youth.

So maybe, Tarine reasoned, there was a future here.

Tarine would retire from modeling soon. She would plan their wedding, plan their honeymoon. Maybe they could travel the world for a while, then settle down in a Santa Barbara Spanish–style home in Beverly Hills. They would have no children—about this Tarine was adamant. And then, soon enough after their wedding, she would get back to work. She needed a second act.

She had already had an offer for her own daytime talk show. She thought that could be a great next step. She was also considering designing a line of aerobics wear. There were a lot of things that might be interesting.

Tarine knew that Greg would be a good partner in all of this, in anything she decided to do. He would be behind her, he would believe in her and support her. They would have so much fun together, every day of their lives.

As she thought of it, a smile spread across Tarine’s face. She leaned over to Greg while the two of them stood behind the record player.

“If we do this—marriage—you should know … I will not always be faithful. I do not expect you to be either.”

Greg smiled and nodded. “All right. I understand.”

“But I will promise to be by your side for the rest of our