She found him tinkering with the lawn mower in the back yard. He had it upside down and was doing something to it with a wrench. He had several more sticking out of his back pocket. She watched him from the door for a minute, he so rarely did guy stuff; she wanted to enjoy the sight of it for a bit. She wondered if he had any idea what he was doing, but then again, he was good with his hands, so he probably did. She thought about just how good he was with his hands, and what he'd done with them that morning, enjoying the memory. He looked over his shoulder at her, "You know, that's more than a little distracting." Good, she thought. She closed her eyes to focus better on earlier in the day, and visualized their actions, waiting to get more of a reaction out of him. She opened her eyes to see him heading across the lawn towards her.
He pushed her up against the outside of the house and kissed her. He paused long enough to ask, "Where are Tom and Heather?"
"Heather went out and Tom's watching the store." She pulled his head towards her again.
"Come with me." He grabbed her hand and led her across the lawn, heading for the garage.
Inside he kissed her again and undid her shorts shoving them and her underwear down to her feet. He pushed her against the hood of her car and lifted her to sit on the fender just ahead of the front tire. He'd chosen her car because, being a sports car; it was lower to the ground than his. She kicked her clothes off over her shoes, and reached down and undid his jeans, sending them to the floor along with his boxers. He pulled her to the edge of the car and stepped between her legs. When they were done she leaned against him until she caught her breath. He helped her down from the car and handed her her clothes.
"You think that'll hold you 'till tonight?" he asked.
"I'd rather you held me 'till tonight." She responded coyly, laughing. "Jeeze, I sound like a cheap dime store novel."
"Why were you looking for me earlier?" he asked.
"What?" She'd momentarily forgotten that she'd been looking for him for any reason other than what they'd just done. "Oh," she remembered, "the mail came."
"Well that's certainly earth shattering news. Want to tell me why I care?" he wanted to know.
"The invitation to Cindy's wedding arrived, it's in September."
"When in September?" he asked quickly.
"Don't worry it's the weekend before Shelly's." Realizing immediately why he was worried.
He called his mother, and asked if they could stay there the night of the wedding. They could have stayed at a hotel, but her house was right there, and she probably would have been insulted if they'd come to LA for the night and not stayed at her place, although visits to her house, somehow, never turned out very well. He also asked if they could borrow her driver and her car for the evening, so they could each relax and have a few drinks if they wanted. She agreed immediately.
They left Andrew at home. Sabrina had just seen him the month before, at Boone's birthday, and Tom and Heather were more than happy to take care of him, so they felt it unnecessary to schlep him, and all his stuff, all the way into the city.
They were standing in the foyer of her house now, ready to leave. Sabrina reached forward and straightened his tie. "You never seem to manage to get this quite centred." He suffered her interference in silence, after all, she was letting them stay there, and borrow her car.
"Thanks mother," he responded to her ministrations.
She looked at Shannon. The girl had her hair up, she'd done a good job with it; it looked quite nice she thought.
They turned to leave, Shannon preceding him towards the door. "Stop," he commanded. She looked back over her shoulder at him inquiringly. "It's not exactly the way I wanted, hold on a sec."
Sabrina watched amazed as he pulled the pins from Shannon's hair and stuck them in his mouth. He raked his fingers through her hair once it was loose, then expertly twisted it back up and reinserted the hair pins. "Turn around." She obeyed him immediately. "Yeah, that's the look I was going for. Perfect."
He reached down for his green bag; it was sitting on a chair by the door. Sabrina shook her head disdainfully at how incongruous the cheap canvas looked against the expensive black suit he was wearing. She knew there'd be photographers at tonight's event, she just hoped that she wouldn't see a picture of him with the ridiculous bag in next week's society rag. He caught sight of her in the mirror over the chair. "Don't worry; I'm going to leave it in the car."
At the church he looked around at the other guests while the ceremony was under way. When they'd come in, he'd said hello to David, the Carlyle Enterprises employee who was acting as coordinator for the event He'd worked with the man in the time he'd spent as Sabrina's business manager before the crash. He caught sight of a woman in the pew across from him in the most hideous purple dress. Oh my god, he thought, and, in his head, critiqued the abomination that was her attire. Shannon elbowed him in the ribs. He looked at her. What? She can't hear me, he protested silently.
No, she thought back, but I can, and I'm trying to listen to the ceremony. Focus, you shithead!
He turned his attention to what was happening at the front of the church. God, he'd come to hate weddings. His own was the last he'd attended, something for which he was thankful. He did have to allow that Cindy looked beautiful in her wedding dress though, but then, in his experience, most brides did.
After the ceremony they reclaimed their limo and were chauffeured the few miles to the reception.
There were paparazzi everywhere. It wasn't every day that the daughter of the head of a major studio got married. He helped her from the back of the car, as photographers snapped pictures everywhere, and they went into the hall. The evening progressed like the evenings at all weddings do, reception lines, speeches, special dances, the whole nine yards. They danced with each other as friends who'd known them only as brother and sister watched, bemused by their revised relationship. They'd been back almost a year, but it was really their first public outing as a couple. As always, their passion for each other overwhelmed them and they kissed repeatedly as they pressed themselves against each other on the dance floor. By the end of the night he'd pulled his tie halfway down and undone the top two buttons on his shirt. He was sweaty and his hair was plastered to his head, she thought he'd never looked sexier.
In the car on the way home, she reached for him. "Fuck Shan, this is my mother's car! I'll be crucified if she finds out!"
"Why would she find out? Right, Nick?" she asked the driver.
"Find out what?" He pushed the button for the privacy screen. He'd had a soft spot for the two of them ever since they'd asked for his help in deceiving Sabrina when it came to their wedding. Jesus, the woman was a bitch.
She pulled off her underwear and undid the zipper on his dress pants; he lifted his hips so she could push them down. He scooted to the edge of the seat and she shifted herself on to him, facing him on the back seat.
Nick drove around the block twice when he reached Sabrina's house, glancing at the two of them in the rear view, making sure they were done before stopping the car.
He parked the car in the driveway and got out to open the door for them. He stopped Boone, "Sir, you might want to do something about those." He pointed at Shannon's underwear hanging half out of his jacket pocket.
"Thanks," that would have been embarrassing.
They entered the house; Sabrina was still up and met them in the front hall. "How was it?"
"Good," Shannon answered shortly, just wanting to get him upstairs.
"No, I mean, how was it, the details?" she looked at Boone, annoyed. "Do I have to wait for David's report in the morning, or do you think that you could possibly remember how to do your job?'
He closed his eyes briefly at her demand, "No, mother, I remember." He turned to Shannon, "I'll be up in a minute, okay hon?"
"Okay baby," She pulled him to her and kissed him, sliding her tongue into his mouth, and her hands up his back. She, once again, wanted to be sure that Sabrina had no illusions about who had won the battle for possession of him. "Don't be long." She kissed him again and glanced, with hate, and satisfaction, over his shoulder at Sabrina glaring at the two of them, and headed up the stairs.
He followed Sabrina into the den.
"Give me a rundown," she demanded.
He described everything exactly, back in full business manager mode, as he'd known she'd expect.
"What did they serve for dinner?" she wanted to know.
He tried to remember, but then recalled that he'd grabbed a menu card from the table in anticipation of her request.
He reached in his pocket for the menu card and pulled it out, Shannon's underwear fell to the floor at his feet.
Sabrina stared at the scrap of fabric on the floor, recognizing it immediately for what it was. "In my car, you had sex in my car on the way home? Or wait; don't tell me it was earlier than that, and that the little slut wandered around for half the evening with her panties in your jacket pocket!"
The embarrassment he'd felt seconds earlier evaporated immediately. "It was bad enough when she was my sister and I had to listen to you bad mouth her, now that she's my wife I will not have it. Don't you ever, ever say anything like that about her again!" He was outraged.
"I'll say anything I want about my daughter." She retorted.
"You cold hearted bitch. She was never your daughter. Christ, I'm barely your son." He shook his head.
"If she was your sister, as you just pointed out, then I think we can conclude that she was my daughter." She was furious at what he'd just called her.
"Then tell me this, mother. When you found out the plane had gone down, did you think, "Oh my god, my son and daughter were on that flight?" Or did you think, "Damn, now I'm short a staff member. Good help's so hard to find, and Boone was the best business manager I've ever had?" He bent down to pick Shannon's underwear up off the carpet. Rising, he noticed the look of horror on Sabrina's face and wondered whether it was because of the cruelty of what he'd just said, or because he'd guessed correctly. He felt slightly sick to his stomach at the possibility that it could be the latter. He turned from the room and left her there alone.