11. Do They Ever Shut Up?
11
Do They Ever Shut Up?
GREYSON
The Fam Damily:
Noel
Congratulations Alice men are stupid.
Broderick
Thanks, Kai.
Kaia
*Most* men are stupid.
Max
Having attempted to date them for the last decade, I agree with Kaia.
Leighton
Home safe.
Axel
All jokes aside, I'm happy if you are as long as he treats you right.
Brexley
It was so thoughtful for Grey to make sure there was food for me and Quinny. This new no-dairy thing is brutal.
Paxton
Oh, is that why you were puking Sunday morning?
Brexley
*middle finger emojis*
Paxton
*laughing emojis*
Jameson
Wait. What?
Rhyett
Baby, the cat’s out of the bag.
Paxton
Or the BUN is out of the oven.
Brexley
Technically, the bun will stay in the oven until New Year's.
Maverick
MORE BABIES!!!
Brexley
If god loves me, that will not be plural.
Maverick
ONE MORE BABY!
Brexley
Much better. Thanks, Mav.
Elora
Sorry, my head was back in the toilet. All that airfare was not great for the morning sickness.
Axel
Wait. Is sissy’s eggo preggo too? Is that why Greyson put a ring on it?
Greyson
You do know that Rhyett added me to this chaos you call a text thread, don’t you?
Maverick
Hahaha excellent. Putting you down as my emergency contact in case I ever need bail.
Paxton
Two seconds in, and you’re asking for favors from the new billionaire brother?
Maverick
Like he didn’t know that was coming. There are twelve of us. 12!
Paxton
I’ve been dethroned so easily.
Maverick
Billion with a B, Pax. That trumps M.
Paxton
Fucking ruthless, Mav.
Greyson
I have attorneys on retainer. Don’t exploit that.
Jameson
We have a family attorney, thanks, though.
Broderick
My dad could use a break, I’m sure.
Greyson
In the habit of getting into trouble?
Hadlee
Questions you should ask BEFORE you pop *the* question.
Axel
Wait. He never answered *my* question. Is this a fertilization epidemic or something?
Elora
I think we would know if Alice’s eggo was preggo.
Alessandra
You all suck. No. I’m not a human pod, thank you very much. Like that’s the only reason a man would marry me?
Axel
Let’s be real. That’s the only reason a man would marry anyone.
Jameson
Speak for yourself, kid.
Rhyett
Yeah, agree to disagree, man. I had my ring before I knew Brex was pregnant with Quinny.
Broderick
I wouldn’t have cared if your sister ever wanted kids; I needed her to have my last name.
Axel
*gagging gif*
Very happy for you all.
But I’m not gay. That emo stuff ain’t in my wheelhouse.
Jameson
Dude. That doesn’t even make any sense.
Alessandra
JFC, could you all be any more embarrassing? Can you maybe not make my husband regret this before we’re even off the island?
Hadlee
Awwwwwe, you said ‘my husband.’
Alessandra
Generally, that’s what the white dress and exchanging of rings means, Hads.
Hadlee
It’s just cute, that’s all. Alice the menace is all grown up.
Max
You did see that spread in Time magazine last year, right? How our girl held out this long is beyond me.
Greyson
The infamous Max. We meet at last.
Max
Greyson Hart knows my name.
*fainting gif*
You taking good care of my girl, Mr. Hart?
Greyson
She’s not your girl anymore, Maximus.
Axel
You misspelled Maxipad, but okay.
Max
*middle finger emojis*
That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Fancy Pants. She’ll always be our girl.
Finnegan
Welcome to the family, Grey. May the force be with you.
“Christ, do they ever shut up?” I asked when keeping up became impossible. By the time I read a message, a new one popped up. It was my fifth year running a billion-dollar division in our family conglomerate, and the Rhodes family text thread was overwhelming as fuck. Like some kind of radioactive artifact, I hocked the device onto the plush ivory leather of the seat across from us on our private jet.
Alessandra snorted in an entirely unladylike manner, kicking her bare feet up on the chair beside my discarded nuclear bomb. It was oddly adorable. Everything about this infuriating, brilliant woman was. She’d taken my control in a blink and crumbled it in her dainty little hands like the walls I’d built were constructed of sand and paste, not stone and mortar. The memory of her curves wrapped around me, her thigh slung over my groin, in nothing but a flimsy silk negligée, was permanently carved into my mind.
I was raised to be a gentleman. But there was nothing gentlemanly about the way my palms buzzed or the primal images all of that smooth skin on display planted in my mind. She’d taken mercy on me after that first night, constantly climbing into bed in something that hung off her body, but I kept waking to my fingers settled on the strip of silky skin where those oversized hoodies rode up through the night. My perpetual morning wood a not-so-subtle salute to the goddess in my bed.
The goddess now grinning at me mischievously as she shook her head.
“Not unless their mouths are full, and even then, that’s debatable. You see why I never have my phone on me outside office hours.”
“They do this a lot?”
“All. The. Time.”
“And twelve weren’t enough, so you just…added Max?” I recalled, trying my best to grapple with her insane family line.
“He’s the easiest of the bunch, believe it or not.”
“His family terrible or something?” That was the only explanation I could think of that would entice parents to add another mouth to feed to the dozen they’d intentionally created.
“Nah, wonderful, actually,” she chuckled affectionately. “But he connected with El, Hads, and me in elementary school, and we just sorta…kept him, I guess. Jameson and El helped him come out to his family during his senior year in high school. His dad is Japanese, and his mom grew up a fundamentalist Christian. She’s not usually over the top, but it scared him to talk to them alone, you know? Only child, so it was kinda’ us against the world.”
“That was pretty solid of them.”
“Yeah. He’s definitely the suffer in silence type.”
“Still,” I blew out a quick breath. “How do you keep up?”
“I don’t,” she admitted with cartoon-wide eyes, wiggling to settle deeper into her seat, the Hart family crest peeking out from behind her hair. Hair I was desperate to touch again, to wrap around my fist and remember exactly how sweet she tasted.
We hadn’t talked about that kiss since the wedding. Hadn’t talked about the smaller signs of affection we exchanged over the weekend while her family was around. If it wasn’t for the fact that I’d created a game out of earning her blush or a delicious hitch of her breath, I would have thought I imagined it. The spark between us on that beach.
I hadn’t always been the monk the media knew me as. I’d had women. Not a ton. But I knew what it was to kiss a beautiful female, to feel them yield beneath my touch. To earn their submission.
It had never been like that .
I needed more. Not that I could say that.
Circumstances would demand a caress or kiss from time to time, but the last three days were proof this would be a torturous three-year sentence. She just had to be the most breathtaking creature I’d ever laid my hands on.
The text thread still lit up my discarded screen, and guilt had set in my bones for the second time since this began. Because most of her siblings seemed legitimately pumped about the union, but it brought my focus back to what she was saying.
“They’ll be quiet for weeks at a time and then randomly pop off like this. El, Pax, and I talk a lot, but the rest…” she trailed off, looking more than a little guilty.
It was already challenging enough to keep a regular-sized family informed.
We had all the necessary resources, and I still couldn’t fathom electively having a dozen children. “I’m suddenly glad it’s just me and Ollie.”
She shrugged, an endearing little smile on those full lips. “Eh, they’re not all bad. Chaotic, but they come through when it’s needed. Nobody can rally like a Rhodes.”
“Kinda like your sister cornering me Friday night to threaten everything I love?” When Alessandra blanched, turning to me with horrified eyes, I chuckled. “She certainly loves you. Don’t take that for granted.”
“She didn’t ,” she gasped.
“You just said you two are close.”
“Well, yeah, but she?—”
“Promised to destroy me if I hurt you, so you’ll have to dump me and run off with the love of your life when this is over and save my balls, alright?” When her gaze fell to her lap, brows tight-knit, I reached over to hook her chin with a finger. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she echoed back weakly.
“You were phenomenal this weekend.” My words elicited the prettiest little flush in her neck and face, some pathetically male part of me wondering if I’d feel the heat of it against my lips. “Perhaps consider an acting career. I know a few directors I could introduce you to.”
She blew out a disbelieving breath. “That sounds like hell.”
“Millions per film, adoring fans. Just awful .”
“Haters scrutinizing every aspect of my existence from my hips to my home.”
I ground my teeth. Because that was the reality for those of us in the public eye, no matter what arena we played in. The price of great privilege was disproportionate attention and the judgment that followed. There are no right answers when the internet feels entitled to the details of your life.
Deducing where my mind went, she chuckled morbidly. “They already are.”
“So far, they’ve mostly wondered who your sun dress was designed by.”
She snickered, looking sheepish under that pretty pink tint. “2017 Target?”
“The socialites will hate that.”
If anything, that idea seemed to please her. “But the middle class won’t.”
“True.” I sat pensively for a long moment before adding, “You can be whoever you choose to be at my side, Alice. Shake up the status quo if that brings you joy, or blend in if you’d rather. I think there might be more than one reason our paths have collided.” Somewhere along the way, her mouth popped open, something between confusion and awe on her face. Equally curious and concerned about where I’d befuddled her in that statement, I asked, “ What ?”
A gentle, feminine slant pulled on her mouth a beat before she tucked her lower lip between her teeth. My weekend had been occupied by trying not to imagine the feel of that pillowy bottom lip between mine. Of trying not to cross our boundaries and scoop her into my arms after she fell asleep. Instead, I’d just studied her as she rested, away from the scrutiny of her family. Where the focus lines faded from her forehead, and her dark lashes rested against high cheekbones. Her beauty was suffocatingly captivating, like a flame before it consumes you.
On a heavy inhale, eyes on her lap, she murmured, “You called me Alice.”
Secrets, Sand, and Sunset Vows: Inside Greyson and Alessandra Hart’s Intimate Elopement
Aside from the extra day off on our family island and the predicted social media storm that followed our exclusive four-spread wedding coverage, the next few days went smoothly.
Better than that, actually.
My bride ventured into the kitchen the night we got home with a box tucked beneath her arm, looking a bit sheepish.
She broke the silence with an offer. “You strike me as the kind of man that would enjoy a little Risk .”
“An inevitability of being in business,” I agreed, smirking as she rolled her eyes, closing the distance to where I was reviewing a high-profile client’s quarterly plan on the couch. She plunked down beside me and set the box on the cured driftwood coffee table with enough enthusiasm that Cap raised his head from where he rested in my lap. He wasn’t a tremendous fan of being apart and had been even more glued to my hip than usual. She unfolded the board and began counting out players. While every inch of my brain urged me to finish looking through our strategy, some corner of my being demanded I humor her. Acknowledge a gesture that felt like…an offering of sorts. “You play a lot?”
“In a family our size on an island that’s almost always rainy, cheap home entertainment is a necessary commodity.”
“I take that as a yes?”
“Define a lot ,” she challenged, smiling as she emphasized the phrase. Cap smashed his cold, wet nose into my palm the instant I stopped petting him, my focus on her as she added, “I will warn you; don’t ever play Elora. She eviscerates the best of us.”
“We’ll have to see about that.”
“Feeling cocky, Greyson?” Greyson. I loved the way this woman said my name like a challenge.
“Confident,” I corrected.
“Isn’t that just a euphemism for the same thing?” she asked, narrowing her eyes… playfully ? There was definitely some level of amusement staring back at me. I liked it more than I strictly should’ve. As it was, it was day one of nine hundred and eighty-five before we would stage our inevitable split. Perhaps a way to kill time was precisely what we needed.
“Cocky men can’t walk their talk.”
“ Oh ,” she scoffed. “And you can?”
“I’m not in the habit of gambling unless I know I can win.”
“So, you knew I’d say yes and not report you to HR?” Judging by the satisfaction in her subtle smile, she’d been dying to bring that up for a while now. “Logic would lend to the idea that I could’ve turned around and added another headache to your heartbreak.”
“Okay,” I allowed. “I don’t gamble unless it’s worth the risk.”
That glorious pink colored her cheeks as her gaze dropped to the board. “Then let’s play, Mr. Hart.”
“I’m also not prone to showing mercy,” I teased flatly.
“Like I’d ever request it.” She arched one lone brow before demanding, “So? Prove it.”
It turned out that Alice was a far more calculating opponent than my brother or cousins had ever been. She could’ve given my dad a run for his abundance of money, which was why it was absolutely no surprise when she knocked on my home office door Thursday morning.
“You got a second, boss?”
“For my wife? Always. Come in, beautiful.” I’d say about anything to earn that blush, I realized. She quirked a brow, smirking like she knew exactly what I was doing…and didn’t seem to mind. Stepping inside, she quietly shut the door behind her and sighed as she eased into the chair across from me. “That sounds good,” I drawled sarcastically.
Her eyes shot skyward as she sighed, “The article is live.”
“Now would be a great time to specify.”
“ The allegations went live this morning,” she explained, glancing to her phone and reading aloud, “ From Wedded Bliss to Financial Crisis: Hart Investments CEO Greyson Hart Accused of Foul Play. ”
“Ahh, that.” I echoed her sigh as I leaned into my chair, lacing my fingers behind my head. No doubt our surprise engagement had delayed their game plan. “Are we changing our strategy?”
“Nope, I already messaged our journalists.” It had been Alice’s idea, after all. It made sense that she would get to pull the trigger. “The first leak will hit blogs tonight, and the next three will launch over the next few days.”
“Counter articles?”
“Through editing and ready to cause a buzz.”
“Follow-ups?”
“Exclusive interviews will stagger out over the next four weeks. We have pregnancy speculations and trouble in paradise on standby.” Like a commander reporting to their captain, she stated the facts without much in the way of inflection. No one would look at the sinfully sexy vixen in front of me and ever expect such a calculating, cunning mind to accompany it. I’d just married my best weapon, and the world had no idea she’d already been unleashed. “Your investigators now have names and sources?”
“They’re in the thick of it.”
“Good. Your name was cleared this morning, so Reggie just needs to make his statement, and you’ll be back where you belong. Do you want me to do anything else?”
Nodding with a smile fit for the genius I was about to unleash, I ordered, “Burn it down.”
The smile that overtook her face was devious, to say the least. She didn’t look scared. The allegations weren’t flustering her this time around. We had layers of defense, not the least of which was a team of attorneys and private investigators already digging into every corner of the business to search for anything Alice or I may have missed.
We’d prepared, we’d placed our decoys, we had a story that should draw their attention. She knew it as well as I did. At least judging by the spark in her eyes to accompany that smile.
“My pleasure.”
Unseen Photos from Greyson and Alessandra’s Clandestine Nuptials!
Star-Studded Surprise: Hail Mary Hero, Paxton Rhodes, and Reality TV Host Make Waves at Private Wedding!
Undercover Romance: Sneak Peek into the Billionaire CEO's Hush-Hush Wedding!
From Best-Seller To Bridesmaid: Elora Rhodes-Allen Spotted At Sister’s Secret Wedding
An avalanche of articles was posted in magazines, papers, and blogs over the next forty-eight hours, with more scheduled on a drip over the following weeks, and while I knew Alice didn’t particularly care for exploiting her siblings’ growing fame, she hadn’t forbidden a single tool in her arsenal.
I was studying one of the ‘leaked’ wedding photos we’d supplied of the three Rhodes siblings, laughing around our beach bonfire Saturday night, and couldn’t help but smile.
Her sister was laughing—an arm draped around Alice’s shoulders—and Paxton was grinning, looking at ease as he watched the fire towering over her other side. But it was my bride, in a dress Leighton called ‘Mediterranean BoHo’—whatever the hell that was—smiling down at her hands like she did when she was nervous or contemplative, that my eyes kept tracing.
Stunning .
A blind man wouldn’t even deny that. Not with the kindness in her voice or the generosity she showed, even to the cursed beast she claimed made her life miserable. She’d seen the threat to my company as unjust, and regardless of her feelings about me, she couldn’t stand by and let it threaten the people we both cared for.
“Will I see you at Paxton’s welcome party?” Oliver’s voice tugged me from the screen, and I discreetly clicked the exit window.
“Nice knock, asshole.”
“Nice open door, prick.”
Chuckling, I shook my head but waved him in. Despite the low-level buzz around the embezzlement allegations, Alice’s plan had worked—the public was focused on us, which meant the board okayed a public statement of my innocence, backed by their internal investigation. It felt damn good to be back in my office and even better as my brother sauntered inside it.
Of the two of us, Ollie had always been the wild one. Classic middle child syndrome that miraculously outlived Beaumont through years of adolescent hell-raising and college days spent chasing skirts rather than A’s. Everything he did, he did with a lightness I both envied and cherished. Envied because I never tasted it, and cherished because I’d fought so hard to preserve it. The best part about an angry drunk of a father was that it didn’t take long to know exactly what would piss him off, and like I’d waved a red flag in front of a bull, his temper zeroed in on me.
If it meant I was the one that was never enough, and my brothers went undetected, it was worth it.
That’s the thing people don’t realize. Addiction doesn’t know a class. Just because the man could function ten hours a day didn’t mean he didn’t hit the bottle when he walked in the door, freeing the demons in his head in the process.
We thought after Beaumont died, he’d sober up, but he dove deeper into the bottle. Uncle Reggie and my mother picked up the slack.
It was that hard-fought-for innocence that my brother embodied as he flopped into the chair opposite me, kicking his feet up on my desk like the heathen he was. Mattie might be ten going on thirty, but Ollie was thirty going on ten.
“So? Are you coming to the welcome party? Alice says she’ll be there.” Paxton was due to arrive within a matter of hours, so naturally, Ollie and the team would give him an Emerald Bay welcome this weekend. I glanced at the time and blinked, palming at my face. I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. Alice headed home ages ago.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I promised with a yawn, shutting my laptop and turning to power down the curved monitor beside it.
His scoff had me glaring up at him. “Right. Because you’re normally a party guy.”
“They’re less annoying now that women won’t be flinging themselves at me.” I stood and pulled my suit jacket off the back of the chair, throwing it on in the next motion as Ollie smirked my way.
“That’s what you’re telling yourself?” When I just arched a brow, he widened his eyes like I was an imbecile. “Dude. Something about being vetted by one of their own…women are nasty. They get way more forward once you’re married.”
“What?” I growled, almost choking on my spit.
“Yeah. I don’t know—something about knowing you’re worthy of a commitment.”
“That’s so fucked up,” I muttered, reaching forward to pull him to his feet. He begrudgingly humored me, following my lead out into the hallway. Ollie and I always shared the car if we wrapped up at the same time. The perk of buying up land and developing the neighborhood yourself was getting to pick your next-door neighbors. Ollie and the kids were across the street, and I was sandwiched between cousins and Nona, not that we’d see her until snowbird season. “How are the kids?”
“They love the new nanny.” Surprise sent my brows lifting as I glanced his way. With rolled eyes, he clarified, “ Beau loves the new nanny.”
Chuckling, I said, “That’s what I thought.”
Pushing the elevator button, my brother glanced back at me, shaking his head in exasperation. “She’s gotta stop running them off.”
“Sure it’s not Cruella at fault?”
Ollie grimaced, running a hand over the back of his neck. “Between the two of them, I swear. We’re going to end up shipping in an unsuspecting Au pair.”
“Desperate,” I noted, smiling as we stepped into the elevator.
“Desperate times,” he countered as the doors closed. “I don’t want to crush that willpower—she could run a country someday, you know? There’s not a dictator on the planet that would want to fuck around and find out against Matilda Hart…” Somehow, he managed to recap her entire school week between the thirteenth floor and the car. By the time we slipped into our seats, he moved on to Beau, who seemed just as intelligent as his sister but a little more conventional in the personality department so far.
Arthur guided the car through familiar turns, and I relaxed into the seat, breathing for the first time since getting back into the office. I was still enjoying the view of my eyelids when a chill danced down my spine, forcing me to straighten. Unease had me pulling out my phone, but the screen was free of notifications…well, aside from the Fam Damily Rhodes group chat, which was insane. Alice was right. That sucker would stay muted.
Oliver’s eyes zeroed in on my phone as his story came to an end. “You expecting someone?”
“No, I just got nervous out of nowhere.”
“Almost home. Nothing from security?”
“Nothing,” I confirmed, though it did little to ease the tension in my chest. We hadn’t even hit the driveway when Arthur rolled down the divider.
“Mr. Hart, would you like me to call security?”
Adrenaline shot through my system as I saw what he was surveying through the windshield. Alice, looking twelve kinds of pissed off in her perpetually prim, composed way, wearing a skintight pair of yoga pants and an athletic top, was cornered by the dead-men-walking paparazzi.
Bolting from the car to the muttered curse of my brother, I made a beeline for them just in time for her to ask if he had a life. But I slowed as I neared the edge of our gate. She stood tall, her head high, as she looked down her nose at the motherfucker I wanted to smash with his camera.
I snagged my brother by the elbow as his momentum carried him past me. Because Alice was speaking in the sickliest, sweetest, serpentine tone, and I found it sexier than sin.
“I would tread very carefully if I was in your shoes.” A patronizing lift of a brow, like she was looking at a bug she’d stepped on. “I certainly wouldn’t be daft enough to challenge the safety of my husband’s home. Careers can be ended in moments, and lives destroyed much faster.” Damn, the confidence in her words had pride lifting my cheeks.
“Are you threatening us, Ms. Rhodes?” The second of three asked.
“It’s Mrs. Hart . And I’m telling you to remove your hands from Greyson Hart’s wife before he erases your name from the face of modern media. Assault and harassment charges would be the least of your concerns.”
Straightening, I realized the first dead man did, indeed, have a hand wrapped around her wrist, anchoring her in place. Too late, motherfucker. She was right. Nobody touched what was mine without paying with their peace of mind.
This pile of shit would be lucky to see daylight as a free man again if I had anything to say about it.
The desire to use that zoom lens around his neck for some complimentary tooth extractions had my voice near a growl as I said, “ My wife is correct.” All three of them spun to face me, but Alice only smiled, like she knew I’d come for her. “What you do next will determine the forecast of your future, so I suggest you step. Back .”