Honey shifted in the seat trying to get comfortable. “I have a confession, Morgan.” She held on to the pendant at her neck. Her stomach roiled with nerves. She was going away with Morgan, not his truck. “I like you.”

Morgan kept his focus on the road. “That’s hardly a confession based on this morning’s activities. I like you too.”

“I mean, I really like you. I like like—” Honey emphasized the word, drawing it out, “—like you. Like, might not even be the right word for it. I more than like you.”

“You aren’t going to use that other L-word, are you?” he smiled. Just a small twitch of upward movement at the corner of his mouth. Honey recognized that smile; it meant Morgan wanted to play. It was an incredibly sexy expression. Honey wanted to slide across the cab and begin licking where his lips curved, but her nerves kept her on her side of the truck. Was Morgan ready for the L-word? Was she?

“No. At least, not yet. But—” She shifted so she could see him more easily. “I think I easily could.” She stared at him. Morgan said nothing. He continued to smile that little playful grin and focused on driving. “You aren’t freaking out.”

“Why should I? You’re saying something I want to hear.” He finally glanced at her, flashing a large smile. “It’s encouraging.”

“Encouraging, huh?” She sat back. “Okay, then. I hope it’s still encouraging after I tell you all of this.”

“You were born a man?” Yep, he was playing with her.

“No. I was not born a man. All original parts, thank you very much.”

“Because if you were, I’m basically okay with that. What you do with what you’ve got— Damn.” He scratched at the stubble on his chin as if thinking hard. “Okay, not a man. A serial killer?”

“Morgan!”

“You’re a mutant that shoots knives from between your knuckles.”

“Will you shut up.” Honey shook her head at him. She needed him to be serious for a second “I’m shallow!”

“That’s your big confession? You’re shallow?”

“Would you let me finish, ya’ big oaf!”

“Sorry.”

“I’m shallow. I used to judge men based on their outward appearance only. Not just looks, but grooming too. The clothes they wore and how they wore them. What cars they drove. Who they knew. Not what they knew, but who. What their job title was. And mostly the size of their wallets.”

“Hmm-mmm.” Morgan acknowledged what she said with a nod.

“Personality, height, size, skill weren’t even in my top five”

“Not judging a guy by how big he is isn’t such a bad thing. I mean I’m told it’s not what you’ve got but how you use it,” he smirked.

“That’s just it, Morgan. I stayed with crappy lovers who didn’t have a clue how to make love to anyone but themselves because they looked a certain way or drove a certain car.”

“What is it you are trying to tell me, Honey?”

“I’m saying I really like you. You are different for me from any guy I have ever dated.”

“I would hope so.” He glanced at her out from the corner of his eye, before returning his focus to the road.

“I’m not only talking about that wolf thing you’ve got going on. It’s everything else. You are kind. You took care of me when I needed it. You paid for all those people’s coffee because you might have inconvenienced them for a minute or two. You replaced everything in my apartment. You wear plaid shirts. I’m saying I never would have dated a guy who drove a rust-bucket of a truck, let alone go away to meet his family for a long weekend in one. So I’m apologizing now if I say or do something shallow or snotty or arrogant or just plain fucking stupid. I’m learning to not judge people based on their appearance. Lana has really helped me with that, but I know I’ve got a ways to go yet. I’ve got years of superficial bad behavior to get over.”

“Fair enough. But you do actually like me. I’m not some experiment in slumming or trying out the rough-and-ready laborer?”

“I am completely infatuated with you, Morgan. I didn’t plan on it, but I am. And what you do to me in bed. Damn!” Honey sighed. “This isn’t about money—having it or not.” She motioned in the space between them. “I just need you to know that in my past, it always was about money, and designer labels. So if I am a complete idiot this weekend, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be, but I can be an ignorant ass at times.”

Morgan drove them into an unincorporated neighborhood, not quite country but clearly not suburbs. It looked very much working class, even though the yards were large and so were the houses. Morgan pulled into a steep driveway. He followed the long drive up the hill to behind the house. Honey could see several outbuildings, a large garage, and the top of a pool slide behind a paneled fence. The yard was full of cars. Cyclone fencing encircled the entire property.

They really weren’t that far away from the peninsula. It had barely taken them an hour to get here. Honey thought if this was his family home, they could have easily driven here every morning for the weekend.

Morgan honked and a short broad Hispanic looking man came out of the large garage. He wiped his hands on a greasy looking rag as he approached the truck. “Put it over there,” he said, indicating a space between a couple of broken-down cars. Morgan got out of the truck and clapped the man on the shoulder. “Thanks Jorge. This saved us some time.”

“Sorry, she wasn’t ready earlier, Mr. Palatine. She’s all gassed up and ready for you.” He lifted his arm and signaled to someone with a flick of his wrist.

Honey hovered around the back of the truck. She had expected Morgan to introduce her. This was his home, right?

“Honey, I’m glad you told me your feelings.” A slick black car purring like a contented feline rolled to a stop in front of her. It looked like the love child of a jungle cat and a shark in car form. Morgan escorted her to the passenger side. He opened the door for her and indicated she should sit. He leaned in over her. “I’m glad you feel the way you do and that money isn’t involved.” Morgan closed the door.

Honey watched, confused, as Jorge helped Morgan move their items from the back of the truck to the trunk of the sleek car. Honey barely heard the thump and click of the trunk, then Morgan slid into the driver’s seat. He shook hands with the man named Jorge, closed the door and began driving.

Honey stared in shock, her mouth agape. This was the kind of car that defined luxury, and she didn’t even know its make.

“The truck wasn’t mine. Jorge lent it to me because this, my car, wasn’t ready yet. I didn’t want to waste another two or three hours waiting for it to be ready, drive back to get you, and then head north. Picking it up here saved us a few hours.”

“What is this thing?” Honey was still in shock at being in the car. Everything was tan and black leather. She reverently stroked the dash in front of her. “What is this thing?”

“It’s a Maybach. They don’t make them anymore.” Morgan’s tone indicated that he liked his car but not so much that he was impressed with himself for owning it.

“Uhm, this is a really expensive car, isn’t it Morgan?”

“Yes, it is. That’s not going to be a problem, is it, Honey? You said what we have isn’t about money, and you said that thinking I was a poor construction worker. Now you know I’m not, it’s still not about money, is it?”

“How? I’m sorry. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around this. You are or you aren’t a construction worker?”

“I am a structural engineer, a foundations specialist. I run Seven Hills. I am also the CEO of the parent company Truria. My family owns the company. Has for a very long time.”

“Wow, okay.” Honey glanced at the interior of the car then she looked at Morgan, still in awe of the turn of events.

“So you are a construction worker, but you actually don’t need to be.” She spoke slowly, clarifying for herself at the same time.

“Right. I like to get hands-on at the beginning of a project. It helps the other guys know who I am, know they can talk to me, and lets them see I know what it is they are actually doing,” he explained.

“That’s why you haven’t needed to go into work early the past few days and are dressing differently” Honey couldn’t take her eyes off the interior of the car, as if it verified the words Morgan said.

“Right. I’m transitioning at this point. Now that the project has moved on past the installation of the base foundation, I can pull back and let Jim—he’s the site manager—take over for me. I’m mostly there at this point for the client.”

She tilted her head to watch him. Was he going to shift into another beast? First a wolf, now rich tycoon? What else was Morgan hiding? “But what about that job you did in Pacific Grove?”

“That was helping out a buddy. They had some guys call in sick with the flu. I was available. He had a time crunch. He needed the concrete poured at a certain time, and they needed help getting the forms set up properly.”

“Morgan, I still really really like you. But…” She paused thinking about her phrasing. “But since you have money, could I help you buy some different clothes? I mean, I really hate those plaid shirts.”

Morgan roared with laughter. “Sure, but those are work shirts. They are cheap, rugged, disposable. If they get messed up, no bother. I only had work clothes in Monterey. I hadn’t planned on being social. I certainly hadn’t planned on meeting you.”

“See I told you I’m shallow.”

Still laughing, Morgan said, “If it makes you feel better, no plaid at all this weekend. And if you don’t approve of the rest of my wardrobe, I will let you take me shopping.”

* * *

Morgan’s driving skills and the smooth ride of the car made the trip feel as if they flew. They crossed the Golden Gate Bridge before she felt like enough time had passed at all.

Morgan continued north on Highway 101. He exited, and they drove into the golden, water-starved hills of Northern California.

The car snaked its way up a long grade deep into wine country. Honey watched as acres of grape vines slipped past her window. She felt as if the vines and hills around her were moving while she sat still.

A brick and iron gate indicated the entrance to a drive. Small solar lamps lit a path on either side of the driveway, guiding the car towards more lights. They rounded a bend and Honey gasped. Oak trees that sparkled with lights framed an elaborate brick and stucco entrance to a large, three-story facade. The car circled around a small circular drive then stopped.

Honey stared, mouth open. The building extended out to either side. This wasn’t a house, this was a large, mission-style mansion.

Morgan exited the car and opened Honey’s door. She put her hand in his offered one, and stood. She gaped at the entryway. Large, round, terra cotta pots filled with succulents stood like sentries on either side of a brick walkway. Low wood steps led to a deep wide patio. Columns and arches repeated the length of the front patio. Honey noticed a ramp to the right zig-zagging from the walk to the patio.

“We’re here,” Morgan announced.

“This isn’t a house, Morgan. This is a resort.”

“This is home. It’s a house, not a resort.”

“No, this isn’t a house. A house is—you know—three bedrooms, two baths, a garage or a carport. Single level. Maybe even one of those old Victorian two-story houses. No, this—this is a fucking mansion.”

Morgan snickered. “Definitely more than three bedrooms and two baths. But it is home.”

“And you live here all by yourself?”

“No.” Morgan shook his head. “Extended family lives here. I have rooms, and yes, I mostly live here. But, definitely, not all by myself.”

One of the large wooden doors swung open. An older man in a wheelchair followed by a middle-aged woman emerged from the mansion.

“Morgan,” the man roared as he wheeled down the ramp to greet them. “You’re back in time.”

“Remi…” Morgan motioned Honey to his side. “This is Honey Gould. Honey, this my Uncle Remi.”

Honey offered her hand, expecting Remi to shake it. She was caught off guard when he turned it and brought it to his lips.

“A pleasure.” Remi’s voice boomed.

“Nice to meet you.” She turned, expecting to be introduced to the woman who had opened the trunk and had begun removing items from the car.

A small group of teenage boys burst out of the front door. They jostled for position. The winner of the race stopped in front of Morgan. “Can I put her in the garage?”

Morgan tossed him the keys. “One scratch and I’ll hide ya’.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the kid said as he slipped into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

The other boys started to shuffle back into the house.

“Oh no, you don’t.” The stern tone of the woman’s voice stopped them in their tracks. “Take those things up to Morgan’s rooms.” She pointed to Morgan’s bags. “And you can put those in a guest room.” She pointed to Honey’s bag and handed over her garment bag to one of the boys.

“Which one?” Clearly, the prize had been to park the car. Delivering bags was a losing chore.

The woman raked Honey up and down with a judgmental look then glanced out of the side of her eye at Morgan, “Let’s put Miss Gould in the Blue Bird Room.”

Honey heard Morgan grumble.

The woman turned on Morgan, pointing at his chest. “I have a house full of guests and kids. I expect you to follow the rules. She’ll be on the same hall as JoJo’s bridesmaids.”

“Jinx has run this house for almost twenty years,” Remi announced. “We follow her rules.”

“Those were the rules of the house when I started, and since no one has officially changed them, I follow them,” Jinx replied.

“No one is going to change them,” Morgan added. He turned to Honey. “I think I mentioned that my parents ran a school?”

Honey nodded.

“We have a small private school on premises. Mostly for extended family and others with our—” Morgan gestured in a circling motion, “—family trait. The rules Jinx is referring to were put in place to keep the kids in line and to prevent underage hanky-panky.”

“The family is traditionally Catholic,” Remi added.

“I don’t know anyone who’s been a practicing Catholic for years,” Morgan continued.

“Your grandmother,” Remi cut in.

“Well, anyone except for Nan. She’s a holdout of times since past.”

“You did say your family was rather formal. This just fits,” Honey contributed to the conversation.

They followed Remi up the ramp. Jinx waited for them at the top of the stairs. “Jinx, if you would show Miss Gould to her room, Morgan and I have some matters to discuss.”

“Is that what I’m in time for?” Morgan asked. He turned to Honey and cupped her elbow, holding her arm for a moment. “I’ll come see you before you go to sleep. Okay?”

Honey expected Morgan to lean in for a kiss. She was disappointed that he hadn’t. Of course, she realized, his family might frown on public displays of affection between unmarried couples.

“Okay.” She watched Morgan follow Remi down a wide hallway.

“Miss Gould,” Jinx spoke getting her attention. Her arm stretched out to indicate Honey should follow her in the designated direction.

She followed as Jinx led her up a flight of stairs and through a maze of hallways. Honey had never been in a private residence so large. They passed by an open sitting room space with overstuffed chairs and couches. It resembled a luxury hotel lobby with conversation areas more than what Honey thought of as a living room.

“So you run the house?” Honey asked nervously. “Are you like a butler?”

Jinx chuckled. “I am exactly like a butler, but my official title is Head Household Manager. I also act as personal assistant and caregiver. I manage all household staff.”

“Household staff? The house has a staff?” Honey was amazed. This was the type of home she had only ever seen on television.

“This place needs a staff. Not counting the children who are here for the school, the family that lives here requires cooking and cleaning. There is also the garage staff. We do have a few—uhm—what would be called ‘footmen’ on the Continent. We call them personal assistants here. They help out where and how they are needed.” Jinx explained.

“Wow. So how big is this place?” Honey asked.

“Plenty big, but I don’t think it’s big enough for this weekend. The wedding is being held in the courtyard out back. Tonight we are full of guests.”

Honey looked around. She was astounded at just how silent it was. “But it’s so quiet. I wouldn’t know anyone was here.”

“Good sound proofing. For a family with sensitive hearing, that is vital. Also, I have regulated all partying to the other side of the south wing where the dorms are located. They are as far away from the rest of the house as possible.”

She stopped in front of a paneled door, turned the knob, and pushed open the door. “Here we are.” Honey wondered how she’d ever find it again since it wasn’t labeled like in a hotel. Jinx stepped into the room with Honey following. The furnishings were dark maple, the walls covered in dark blue floral wallpaper with blue birds in amongst the designs. It was a simple, guest bedroom. She noticed a small pile of folded towels had been set on the bed in anticipated need.

Jinx indicated light switches and outlets. “These lights are on the wall switch. The bedside table lamp has a switch here.” She reached under the lamp shade and snicked the light on.

Honey glanced around the room. Her bags were already on the foot of the double bed, not the large bed she had hoped to be sharing with Morgan this weekend. Then again it was beginning to look as if she would not be sharing a bed with him at all the next few nights.

“I’ll show you where the bathroom is.” Jinx stepped back out of the room.

Definitely not a hotel. She didn’t even get her own bathroom. The bathroom she did get was larger than expected but covered in makeup bags and curling irons.

“JoJo’s bridesmaids are not the neatest young ladies,” Jinx said, indicating the mess, the tone in her voice wasn’t as neutral as Honey thought Jinx wanted it to be. She sounded judgmental and aggravated.

The bathroom featured a bank of two sinks in front of a large mirror. Opposite the sinks were three doors. Two of the doors led to commodes and the last door led to a small shower room. The design allowed for more than one person to use the facilities at the same time without appearing like a public restroom or locker room.

“There is another bathroom at the other end of the hall.” Jinx indicated. “But this one is closer to your room. I’m afraid you’ll have to climb over JoJo’s entourage in either one.”

Jinx guided Honey back to her room.

“Great thanks.” Honey nodded. She knew she was being deposited back at her room.

“Good night, Miss Gould. Breakfast will be served in the morning. I’m sure Morgan will help you to locate that when the time comes.”

Honey closed the door after Jinx left. Definitely aggravated.

Now what? She looked around the room, her hand nervously sliding the pendant back and forth. No television. She couldn’t remember if she packed any books. Probably not. Honey had anticipated spending all of her time with Morgan. There was a small dresser. She opened the drawers. Empty. It was a guest room with no reason for there to be anything inside. She began unpacking her duffle bag. She placed her toiletries in the top drawer of the dresser. Everything else she left in the bag and placed it on the side chair. She unzipped the garment bag carrying her dress. She unfurled the length and noticed that it had gotten a little bunched. She opened the closet and found a garment steamer in the otherwise empty space. Honey hung the dress then began examining the steamer. It was simple enough. Water reservoir, switch, and wand. And the ubiquitous warning label that steam was hot and could burn.

Honey depressed the lock button and pulled the reservoir off the unit. She knocked then entered the bathroom, quickly filling the plastic container. Back in her room, she pushed the container back onto the machine, plugged it in, and clicked it on. She sat back and waited. It had been a few years since she had used one. She knew she needed to wait for steam to begin rushing from the wand end. As soon as steam billowed out of the end, Honey gently guided the wand up and down the folds of her gown. The little wadded up wrinkles relaxed and fell away.

Honey clicked the machine off and unplugged it. She pulled the water tank and padded back down to the bathroom to empty it.

Morgan leaned against her door when she returned.

“I don’t think I can invite you in,” she said tartly, sashaying past him into the room.

Morgan leaned against the open door. “I’m sorry. House rules. At least, for the first visit.”

Honey reassembled the steamer.

“So where can a girl get a drink around here?”

* * *

Noise. Honey finally believed there were other people in this large mansion. Morgan led her down a series of hallways and staircases. The hall they were in opened onto a large open den full of people. Honey noticed mostly young adults and older teens.

A few people called out to Morgan. He waved. A large screen television was set up at one end of the room with what looked to be a fairly intense video game competition happening based on how many were gathered around watching and the cheers and groans coming from them.

A pool table occupied the center area. An equally intense game took place there but with fewer audience members.

Honey followed Morgan through the room to a wet bar. A double door refrigerator proved to be well stocked with a variety of drink, and frozen snacks. Morgan grabbed two beers and a bag of chips from the counter.

He nodded to Honey, indicating she should continue to follow him. They walked out onto a long patio. Honey noticed a few pit fires and several different groups. Morgan led her to a secluded bench where they sat. He twisted the top from a beer and handed it to her.

“This is quite the place,” Honey said.

“Yeah, it can be crowded at times. Of course, it’s not normally like this. Most of these people are only here for the wedding.”

“Most?” Honey asked

“Some of the kids inside live here because of the school. But, yeah, people are here for the wedding. Not that many actually live here full time.” Morgan began ticking off his fingers. “My sister Caro and her husband, their kid. Kids. My sister Julia has rooms, but she mostly stays at her place in San Francisco. My grandmother, Remi, Aunt Karen, Dante, Ari, Shane. JoJo, but I don’t know if she’s staying or going to find a place with her new husband. Joe lives over the garage. A few teachers live here. Last count I think we have five staff members who live on the property. I have no idea about the school. Not counting the school or staff, I think twelve or fifteen of us live here with any regularity. Of course, there were more, but people grew up and moved out. As this generation has kids, there will be more again.”

“That’s a pretty big household,” Honey admitted. “I couldn’t imagine living with my entire family all together. But then again, I also could never imagine living in a house like this.”

Morgan chuckled. “The only reason I can imagine living in a single-family home is because of what I’ve seen on television. No, this place is great. It’s big enough you don’t have to be around anyone else. Did you notice how quiet it was upstairs? You really can’t tell there are people here unless you are in the same area as the rest of them.”

Honey watched as lights from the distance fires flickered across Morgan’s profile. “You like it here, don’t you?”

“Of course. It’s home.” Morgan turned to gaze into Honey’s eyes. “You think you could like someplace like this?”

“I think…” She paused, searching his face. “…I would like any place as long as I am with you.”

Honey closed her eyes and leaned into Morgan’s kiss. This kiss felt different. This one felt as if her emotions had clarified, and her heart and her head were in agreement. This kiss felt as if Morgan poured all of the same emotions into her as she was pouring into him.

Honey opened her eyes and looked into Morgan’s glowing ones. She wanted to say something, but words would ruin the moment. She returned her lips to his. She couldn’t speak, but she could kiss. And the kisses felt like they were communicating just fine.

Morgan held Honey’s hand all the way back to her room.

“So are you going to show me where your rooms are?” she teased.

“It’s probably safer not to.” Morgan chuckled. He pointed vaguely off to his left. “I’m over that way.”

“That’s not helpful,” Honey complained.

“No sneaking off trying to find my room tonight. I’m going to be on lockdown too. It’s not particularly fair, and I am particularly annoyed by it. We are consenting adults.”

“In a house full of impressionable children…” Honey finished for him.

“True. And we are unwed, consenting or not.”

“Your Catholic upbringing bites you in the butt.” Honey snickered.

Morgan scoffed. “I still don’t have to like it.”

Morgan stopped outside of Honey’s door.

“Is this me?”

Morgan nodded. “This is you.”

They stared into each other eyes for a long time. A door snicked open. A giggling blur of blond and pink scurried past them down the hall and disappeared into the bathroom.

“I’ll come get you in the morning. The wedding is at one. I’m sure everything will be a flurry of activity until then.” Morgan leaned in for a kiss. They both paused and watched the blur of blond giggle race past them and disappear behind a different door.

Honey kissed him quickly. “I hate this by the way. I’ve gotten used to waking up in your arms.”

Morgan grinned. “I’ve gotten used to you too. Good night, Honey.”