Chapter Five
Marc dragged his feet through their third store of things he couldn’t afford while Valon chatted and smiled.
That was what kept him going. Valon looked genuinely happy today.
He seemed different. Lighter. Marc couldn’t wait for Valon to realize Ry didn’t call anymore.
He knew at some point there would be some blowback on that one.
It was only a matter of time before Ry popped up like a bad penny.
Marc would have to do something to keep that from happening.
Unfortunately, it would take time. He didn’t know how long Ry would give him.
Marc needed to find out how often Ry demanded money and whatnot.
But Valon was actually happy, and Marc couldn’t ruin the smiles.
“Okay. This is perfect.” Valon held up an expensive T-shirt that tried to look cheap, and a leather jacket made to look worn.
“This is you. I wonder if this jacket would fit your broad shoulders. I might need to get one custom-made. Honestly, that’s probably what I should do anyway. Custom-made clothes always fit best.”
“Oh god. Please don’t. That’s so much money. I don’t need any of this.”
“Hush.” Valon didn’t look his way as he combed through the jeans. “This brings me joy.”
Marc couldn’t stop arguing. “I never want you to think I want your money.” Even Marc heard the power behind his statement. Even if Valon didn’t have a penny, Marc still couldn’t stay away. It was Valon he wanted.
Valon stopped and met his stare. “I’ve been in this game long enough to know how to spot the money grabbers and clout chasers. You’re neither of those things.” He went back to sorting through clothes. “In fact, today, Dad said you were family. He’s right. You are.”
Marc’s throat swelled tight and fast. He couldn’t respond.
Valon turned, holding an armful of clothes. “You should try these on.”
Marc let himself get dragged to the fitting rooms. He knew Valon would do what he wanted, and Marc needed to play along.
Valon shoved the clothes toward him and pushed him inside a room. “You’ll look great. Trust me.” He pulled the curtain closed, leaving Marc no other choice than to strip.
He felt dumb as fuck in the outrageously priced clothing. Marc knew the items had to be astronomical. They were in a store where only the richest people made it past the front door without getting turned away by security. Nothing had a price tag. If a person had to ask, they couldn’t afford it.
Marc dutifully tried on the first outfit while Valon tossed more clothes over the curtain. He looked at himself in the mirror. The outfit was definitely in line with the cool upper class.
“I look dumb as hell.” The defeat in his voice couldn’t be masked.
“I seriously doubt that. You’re not capable of looking dumb.”
“Well, I do.” He didn’t know what it was about the entire getup, but it wasn’t him. Marc looked like he played a part he had no business playing.
“Okay. Look alive. I’m coming in.”
Luckily, the room was big enough for two and the ridiculous amount of clothes Valon had waiting for him.
Valon looked him up and down, openly judging the outfit. “It’s the shirt. Here.” Valon turned. He picked through the shirts until he found another. “Take that one off and try this one.”
It was a Hawaiian blue button-down. He pulled the t-shirt up and over his head and accepted the new shirt.
Marc stuck his arms through the holes while Valon watched.
His gaze followed Marc’s every move. The stare was unsettling.
He didn’t feel like a friend was watching him.
There was something different in Valon’s eyes.
Marc couldn’t put a name to the emotions he saw.
Valon blew out a slow whistle. “This is it. This is the one. That shirt perfectly matches your eyes.”
Marc glanced toward the mirror. Damn. He did look good.
Valon closed the distance between them and played with the collar.
Their gazes met and held. Heat built between them.
Marc didn’t think he felt only what he wanted to feel.
The tension was cloying. He was scared to move.
Marc couldn’t ruin what they had. As much as he wanted more, he wasn’t unhappy with what he had.
Their relationship was more than he ever dreamed could be his.
Damned if Valon didn’t look like he wanted to be kissed.
His eyes hooded, and it was like a magnet drew them closer. Marc felt himself sway.
“Do you have everything you need in there? Can I get you some wine?”
The spell broke. Valon turned away. “Yeah. A couple of glasses of wine sounds great.”
The disappointment nearly took his knees out. Marc knew he would spend the rest of his life replaying the moment and questioning every detail. It was possible he read too much into things. That was what he had to tell himself. Anything else would crush him when it turned out the moment wasn’t real.
“I’ll go look for something different now that I've got a bead on your style.”
Marc slowly nodded even though Valon didn’t look back. He had been rendered mute. Marc was frozen solid until a cheery voice broke through his shock.
“I’ve got your wine.”
Marc tugged back the curtain.
A tall brunette in heels that made her eye level with him held an open bottle and two glasses. “Thanks.” His gruff tone was out of his control.
Despite his tone, she smiled and handed over the alcohol. “No problem. Let me know if you need anything else.”
Marc dipped his chin. The moment she was out of sight, he turned the bottle up, chugging half. He needed fortification if he hoped to survive the night. Hell, this shopping trip might see him dead.
Valon poured on the charm as he internally panicked.
If they hadn’t been interrupted earlier, he might have really kissed Marc.
Marc hadn’t seemed opposed. Valon had no clue what he was doing.
He knew what he wanted, but—as always—he couldn’t get a read on Marc.
The guy was way too good at hiding his feelings. He was still waters.
They picked up dinner on the way home with their haul in tow.
Marc never stopped looking horrified, but he had stopped protesting.
He knew Valon. Valon didn’t ask for permission.
They talked all through dinner before making their way outside to sit by the pool.
Valon never tired of the sound of Marc’s voice.
He had to keep asking questions to keep him talking.
“What was your childhood like?”
Marc’s smile never dimmed. Valon wished he felt that way about his childhood.
“Pretty typical, I suppose. My parents signed me up for every sport every year. I know they hoped to keep me out of trouble, but I still found ways to stir up shit. Everyone has a point in life where they have to rebel. It’s like wresting control from parents.
Those moments that give you what you need to strike out on your own. ”
Valon chuckled. “Not me. The closest thing to rebelling was bringing Kash home. He was definitely from the other side of the tracks. I expected Dad to take one look at him and refuse to let me see him again. Instead, Dad was Dad. He pulled Kash aside and peppered him with questions. From that moment on, Kash was part of the family.”
“Even with Ry?”
Valon snorted. “Maybe especially with Ry. He wanted to fuck him. Really, though, that’s nearly everyone’s first reaction to Kash.”
Marc pulled a face. “That was not my first reaction to meeting Kash.”
“What was, then?”
Marc shook his head. “I thought, ‘This guy looks like he’s killed a few people.’”
Valon shrugged. “He probably has.”
Marc had been leaning back in the lounge chair next to Valon. He turned sideways and sat forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. Marc looked fully invested. “Are you really okay with your dad being married to Kash? No weird feelings at all?”
Valon turned sideways to face him. Their knees brushed.
He spent a moment musing over Marc’s question before responding.
“In a way, Kash has always been a second dad to me. Even as a teen, Kash was incredibly steady. He always guided me in the right direction, pushing me to be better.” Valon paused and waved his hand wildly.
“Don’t get me wrong. I was in lust for sure.
But I don’t know. One day, I saw Dad and Kash exchange a look of exasperation over something I’d done, and I thought, ‘Yeah. That tracks.’ I was too immature for Kash.
Kash was way too grown-up for me. He had raised himself and was more adult than he had ever been a child.
Kash fits better with Dad. I can’t say that realization didn’t break my heart.
That was more ego and pride. But I was already plotting my escape by then.
My whole attitude changed to let them have each other.
” A self-deprecating smile pulled at his lips.
“Then I got older and life got a hell of lot harder. I thought this career would be all sex, drugs, and rock’n roll.
Instead, it’s a stressful mess that eats your soul.
I’ve done all the things with professionalism and maturity.
I’ve taken my job seriously.” His hands rose and fell.