Max hadn’t been a person to dwell on money and how the other half lived their lives. His parents weren’t poor by any stretch of the imagination, but neither were they living in ten-million-dollar homes. So, stepping into a place that was worth more money than if he sold Frantic, Ringside, and combined both his and Zack’s salaries together, was surreal.
His shoes clicked on the mahogany wood flooring that covered the entrance to the house. White interior walls matched the color of the outside, giving it a clean, fresh feel that contrasted with the richness of the floor. A marble-topped table flanked his right side, holding a giant vase filled with fresh-cut flowers. No doubt from the extensive gardens that he’d briefly caught sight of on their approach.
This place was so far removed from the vomit- and booze-infused plaster of Frantic, he couldn’t believe this was real. Maybe he was hallucinating and this was all some crazy fantasy his brain had manufactured. Because he wasn’t rich-family material—not even pretend rich-family material.
Grady had been off since they’d gotten into the limo at the airport. Justin showing up had clearly bothered him, though Max had half expected Justin’s arrival. On the flight, he’d run through as many scenarios as he could, trying to ensure his role of the loving fiancé was solid. Justin showing up had been one of them, which had actually instilled confidence.
Speak of the devil.
Justin had removed his jacket and now strode out from one of the side rooms. “I’ve spoken with your father. He and Lincoln will be back within the hour. That should give you sufficient time to clean up before your introductions.”
Serena took Max’s arm and gave it a squeeze. “It will have to be a short face-to-face. I’ve made arrangements for the four of us to go out to supper. I’m so excited to have an ally in all this family stuff.”
Justin cocked an eyebrow. “I’d made reservations at Chambar, per Grady’s request. I’ll call and have two more seats added, if you’d prefer?”
Serena’s mouth fell open for a moment. “Sure. That’s better than what I had planned.”
Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, Justin disappeared once more.
Max turned to look down at Serena. “Is he like Beetlejuice? Say his name three times and poof, there he is?”
“God, that would explain so much.” Grady handed the suitcase he’d been carrying to a butler.
Shit, they had a fucking butler.
“Let me show you around. Then we can go up to the room so you have a few minutes to get cleaned up and rest.” Grady let his gaze slip to Serena. “That is if I can pry you away.”
“He’s all yours. I’d hate to be the one to come between the happy couple.”
There was something in her grin that Max couldn’t place. No doubt she was enjoying the predicament that Grady was in. “I’m looking forward to meeting Lincoln at supper.”
“You’ll have to survive meeting my father first.” Grady nodded toward the large staircase to the left. “Rooms are up there. The bar is this way.”
A drink was the perfect thing to help ease the tension. “Lead on, MacDuff.”
Max had been to some pretty amazing places in his time, but no one of his acquaintance had a full-out library in their home. Flanking the far side was a wall-length wood bar, and from what he could tell, it had a better top shelf than what Max had sprung for at Frantic.
“Your father likes his Scotch.”
“He tried to hide the good stuff from Lincoln and me when we were younger. The challenge was too much to resist, and I found it pretty damn fast.” He went behind the bar, and after a moment his face brightened. “Ah-ha. He still keeps it here.”
“Shit, is that a fifty-year-old Macallan?” He couldn’t afford even to look at that as stock for the bar. “I’ve only seen pictures.”
“Then you, my friend, are in for a treat.” The was no hiding the perverse pleasure Grady was taking in pouring two fingers each of the amber liquid into the tumblers. “Gulp it if you want. He can afford more.”
“If I see you so much as take two sips in a row without savoring this, I’ll personally beat your ass.” That was alcohol abuse at its very worst. “I’d never leave the house if I had access to this bar.”
Grady shrugged before wandering around the room. “When everything is expensive, high-end, and difficult to acquire, it begins to lack specialness. You appreciate the Scotch because you can’t get it easily. I’ve grown up never wanting for anything on the material front, so I tend to care a whole lot less.”
Clearly, there were a few things Grady was missing from his life; sadly, it wasn’t the sort of thing that Max could fix with a smile and a few encouraging words. There was something about the expression on Grady’s face that reminded Max of his own father: a hollowness that shone through the veneer of their easy nature. His dad always tried to be up, happy around people who weren’t Max or his mom. But Max had always seen the frustration, the sadness that hovered just below the surface of his dad’s personality. Grady was somehow the same. It was more than a little unnerving.
When he finished his Scotch, Max gave his head a shake. “How about you show me to my room. I could use a shower.” He needed a few minutes to brace himself before the full force of the Barnes family would be dumped on him.
“Yeah, sorry. This way.”
As they walked down hallways and through rooms, Max let his gaze take in the details. Everything appeared as though it had been staged for a photoshoot: paintings, flowers, the right matching cushions to perfectly accent the drapes. Nothing looked inviting; it was all too sterile in its perfection.
The wide mahogany staircase led to the top floor, and revealed much of the same. A series of closed doors lined a long hallway that disappeared down around a corner. “Shit, this place is huge.”
“Eight bedrooms, three offices, a sitting room, dining room, den, library, kitchen . . . for three people back when Lincoln and I lived here. Easy to go unnoticed for days on end if you wanted. The guest rooms are this way.”
Grady led him down the hall to a room, pushing the door open. “Strange. I thought they brought your bags up already.”
A young woman came around the corner and smiled at them. “Hello, Mr. Barnes. I’ve just put fresh towels in your room.”
“Thanks, Melissa. Which room did you put Mr. Tremblay in?”
Her smile went from bland to mischievous. “Mr. McCormick mentioned you were engaged, so we put you both in your room. Congratulations, sir.”
“Thanks, Melissa.” Grady glanced over his shoulder at him. “Justin is most thoughtful. I guess you’re with me.”
Max could feel Melissa watch them as they walked away. No doubt the rest of the staff would be gossiping about what was going on in no time. And shit again, they had maids and butlers and probably a cook. This family was so not a part of Max’s social realm it wasn’t even funny.
“Sorry about that. If you want, I can quietly ask the staff to get a separate room for you. We can make something up about saving ourselves for marriage.”
Max laughed, ignoring Grady’s scowl. “No one would believe that. It’s fine. We can make it work.”
If he was expecting a typical bedroom, Max was sorely mistaken. When Grady pushed the doors open and walked in, Max couldn’t get his feet to move. “Holy crap.”
The suite at the Royal York was barely on par with the room before him. A large king-sized bed was against the middle of the far wall, swathed in a soft satin quilt. Grady kicked his shoes off, slipped out of his jacket, and tossed it on a couch beside a large window. “Yeah, it’s not bad. If you go out onto the balcony, it has a pretty good view of the back garden. I loved sleeping out there when I was a kid. Did you want to shower?”
“Ah, sure.” He couldn’t do this, could he? He knew about bars, drunks, and how to take a punch in the ring. Lifestyles of the rich and famous? Not so much.
If Grady was aware of his existential crisis, he didn’t let on. “It’s through the back door there. Take your time. I might lay down and have a nap for a few.”
“No problem.” Oh yeah right, no problem at all. Not until he was found out to be a fraud who had no business being here. Max could imagine the fleet of lawyers they’d send to dump a sizable lawsuit on him.
Pushing those thoughts away, he also slipped his shoes off and strode toward the bathroom. Without looking, he went in, shut the door, turned, and pressed his forehead to the wood and groaned. Zack would laugh his ass off if he knew what was going on. Then he’d kick Max’s for doing something so stupid.
Facing the room, he opened his eyes and took in the spa-like bathroom before him. Because of course it was. Granite countertops with a glass sink. A sound system that was playing soft piano music. The walk-in shower had a steam option and multiple heads that would hit every inch of skin on a person’s body.
Okay, he could do one of two things—apologize to Grady and leave before any other family members showed up, or get naked and have a shower while practicing his story.
With muscles aching from the long flight, car ride, and stress of the past few hours, Max pulled his shirt off. No sense passing up the opportunity to enjoy the most amazing shower he’d ever laid eyes on.
Everything else would work itself out.
He hoped.
Grady stretched out on the bed and relaxed into the soft foam mattress. Justin had done everything in his power to make things as awkward as possible. No doubt he suspected the entire engagement was a fraud, but wasn’t fool enough to call Grady on it without proof. They would have to be careful up to the wedding, and then after that make a quick getaway. If given the opportunity, Justin would take pleasure in making him suffer for doing anything to hurt his father’s business opportunities.
Grady’s personal life be damned.
The hiss of the shower coming on brought a smile to his face. Max hadn’t said a word, but it didn’t take a genius to see that he’d been struggling with this entire setup from the moment they’d pulled up to the house. Grady had been surprised how well Max had stepped into this mess from the very beginning. The fact that it had taken this long for him to have second thoughts was impressive in itself.
Not that he’d say anything, but Grady was pleased to have Max here with him in a way that had nothing to do with saving his ass and everything to do with his enjoyment at spending time with him. It was weird seeing things from another person’s point of view—the look of disbelief and awe as they’d walked through the house. Grady hadn’t had that perspective before. No one in his social circles growing up would have thought twice about the cost of the Scotch, or taking time to savor it. No, it was all about pulling a fast one on the old man, being as much of an asshole as possible.
Maybe once this whole fake engagement thing was over and done, he needed to take some time and really figure out what he wanted from his life. Having wealth meant nothing if he couldn’t appreciate what he had. He’d been drifting for most of his twenty-eight years on this planet. Lincoln was right that it was time for him to grow up.
Only ten days to go.
With his eyes closed and the hiss of the shower in the background, Grady relaxed into the mattress. Tension bled from him, and for a few moments his mind stopped racing. He must have drifted off, because the next thing he knew, someone was moving around the room.
Sitting bolt up, his gaze snapped to a half-naked Max, towel precariously wrapped around his waist as he rummaged through an open suitcase.
Holy shit.
Grady’s cock went instantly hard as he took in the still-damp, muscular physique of his fiancé.
Fake fiancé.
Very, very fake.
He swallowed. “How was the shower?”
If Max was surprised by the question, he didn’t show it. “I could move into it and stay forever. I need to convince Zack to install one of those at Ringside just so I can use it.”
A bead of water traveled from his shoulder down his biceps and dropped somewhere on the carpet below. Grady wanted nothing more than to go over and trace the path it had taken with his tongue, to caress and tease that warm flesh.
“You’re staring.” Max’s voice held humor and something that Grady could only assume was lust.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Max stood straight, the towel sliding dangerously low on his hips. “A simple observation.”
There was nothing at all simple about this situation. Grady pushed himself from the bed, needing the space and gravity to ease the ache in his groin. “I should give you some privacy.”
He didn’t move. Neither did Max.
“I should get dressed.” Max let his gaze drop to his hand that was reaching for the front of the towel tucked into itself.
The following seconds happened in slow motion: The way Max’s fingers easily freed the towel, holding it closed for a moment before it gave up its grip on his hips and fell silently to the floor. The sight of Max’s cock, standing thick and proud, jutting from his groin like a beacon, begging for Grady to come and partake. The caress of Max’s fingers across the shaft, sending it bobbing with the motion.
Grady might be many things, but a prude was not one of them. He’d had too many hookups to be shy when faced with such a magnificent cock. With a lick of his lips, he took a step forward. “You know you don’t need to do this. Sex was never a part of my insane plan.”
“I know you don’t know me very well, but I’m not a man who lets himself get talked into things.” Max stroked his cock with purpose. “If I want something, I usually take it.”
“And you want me?” Grady closed the distance between them, making sure not to brush against Max yet. The tease was as much fun as the main event. “You like expensive things, don’t you?”
Max cupped his face. “I like real things. Are you real?”
That was a question he’d been asking himself for years. “Let’s find out.”
And he kissed Max.