Chapter Twelve
Have you ever heard the joke
“three fathers, two doms, and a sub
stay at an estate for a long weekend”?
Yeah, me either.
~ Chloé
CHLOé STARED UP the driveway at the black SUV making its way through the front entrance of the estate and gripped Zayne’s hand a little harder.
Sheesh, where had all that bravado and courage she’d just spouted off inside disappeared to? Where was her confidence? It seemed to have disappeared the second she saw that car.
She was nervous. She was trying not to be. But the truth was that it didn’t matter how many times Ethan, Zayne, or Shayla told her everything was going to be okay. Until this meet-and-greet actually happened—and they all survived—she was going to be a total headcase.
“Red? You okay? You’ve suddenly gone quiet on me .”
She refocused on Zayne, and the genuine concern in his eyes told her that no matter how today went, she was doing the right thing.
Here was a man who cared whether or not she was okay. He cared whether she was about to have a meltdown when he himself was still trying to wrap his head around meeting her fathers.
That was the sign of a good man— her good man. Well, one of them.
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “That sounded convincing.”
She plastered on her best smile, and he shook his head.
“I still call bullshit.”
Chloé winced. “I don’t know what happened. I was fine until I saw the car.”
“And now?”
“Now I feel like I want to vomit.”
Zayne looked around. “Aim left, yeah? There’s a pot plant.”
A burst of laughter escaped her as Ethan walked out the front door. “What’d I miss?”
“Oh, nothing.” Zayne winked at her. “Just be thankful you’re standing next to me right now.”
Ethan frowned, but there was no time to explain, as the SUV pulled up in front of them. She felt like she was about to pass out.
Chloé stared at the tinted windows, wondering who she’d have to face off with first—and when the door opened and her dad stepped out, she felt a rush of relief at his bright smile. That was exactly what she needed to see.
As he lowered his sunglasses and looked up at the mansion behind them, she released Zayne’s hand to go to him, hugging him tight.
“My word,” he said when she finally let him go. “When Ethan invited us out to their place for the weekend, we had no idea we’d be spending it at a resort.”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Chloé said, looking over her shoulder at the arched entryway of the Spanish villa.
“Beautiful is what you call a lovely home in the suburbs, dear. This is… It’s magnificent.”
“Your dad’s right. It’s magnifique.” Chloé looked over her dad’s shoulder to see her père standing by the SUV. In a jade linen shirt, casual chinos, and summer loafers, he looked very…French.
Chloé smiled and walked over to him, her arms wide. “Bonjour, papounet.”
“Bonjour, mon ange.” He wrapped her in his arms and smoothed a gentle hand over the back of her hair. Then he stood back and looked her up and down. “You look beautiful, as always.”
Chloé grinned, basking in the compliment. “ Merci .”
Her eyes traveled past his shoulder to the final occupant getting out of the vehicle—her papa. In light grey dress pants and a black button-down, he looked handsome as ever.
“Papa.” She offered up her best smile as he took his sunglasses off and tucked them into the pocket of his shirt.
“Chloé.”
She stepped in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for coming.”
Never had she meant those words more, because if her papa had nixed Ethan’s idea, they wouldn’t be standing there right now—and for the first time since this meeting had been suggested, she was really glad it was happening.
Papa gave her a clipped nod, then his eyes shifted to Ethan and Zayne, and that was her cue. She turned then to the new men in her life, and God, they were so gorgeous they took her breath away.
“Dad, Papounet , Papa… This is Zayne Copeland and Ethan Holt.”
“Nice to meet you,” Zayne said, stepping forward to shake her fathers’ hands, and her dad’s thorough once-over—that lingered on his tattooed arms—didn’t escape her.
Oh yes, Zayne was definitely Dad approved.
Ethan moved up next, shaking all their hands. When he got to her papa, the two eyed each other like the male lions of rival prides.
“Thank you all for coming,” Ethan said, moving back beside Zayne. “We’re happy to have you stay at our home this weekend.”
“You’re happy?” Dad looked around behind him to the pool and cabana. “Then I’m positively thrilled. Thank you for the invitation. This place truly is spectacular.”
“Thank you. It was my parents’ house.”
Chloé could see the question in her dad’s eyes, but, not wanting to go down that path right off the bat, she decided to steer them all in a different direction.
“Speaking of parents.” She beamed. “Um, I think we should probably establish what we should all call each other before this gets complicated.”
“ Pardon ?” Père chuckled.
“Well, there’s a lot of you,” she said. “And I’m pretty sure you don’t want Ethan or Zayne calling you Dad or Papa?”
“Not if they value their lives.”
Everyone looked in her papa’s direction until her dad’s lighthearted laugh filled the air.
“He’s kidding, of course.” Dad moved over to Papa and patted his arm. “What he meant to say is that we already introduced ourselves to Ethan when he came to the restaurant. So please, Zayne, feel free to call us by our names. Robbie, Julien, and Priest.”
Zayne nodded. “I think I can keep that straight.”
“Apparently not,” Papa said, his eyes shifting to Ethan. “But then again, neither can we.”
Chloé groaned, and when Zayne laughed, whipped her head in his direction. “Seriously?”
“What?” Zayne grinned. “That was funny.”
She shook her head. “If you don’t think I’m drinking this weekend, you’re all crazy.”
Her père pulled a bottle of the finest wine out of a tote he was carrying and smiled. “We’re not that cruel, mon ange. I came armed.”
“Thank God.”
“And on that note,” Ethan said, stepping aside and gesturing to the open door. “Why don’t we head inside?”
Chloé grabbed the wine from her père as he walked by and hugged it to her like a dear friend. As they made their way through the foyer, the hushed whispers paid respect to what the property had to offer.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful view of the lake.” Her père crossed through a small seating area to the doors that had been left open. “It’s so peaceful.”
“It is,” Ethan said. “The nights are so tranquil out here it’s as though you’re miles away from everything, and when the moon is just right and the weather’s calm, it reflects off the lake like glass.”
Her père looked up Ethan, a soft smile crossing his lips. “How romantic.”
“It can be.” Ethan turned to her and Zayne. “When you’re with the right people.”
Dad brought his hand to his heart and faux swooned. “How sweet. Isn’t that sweet, Joel?”
“The sweetest.”
Dad rolled his eyes at Papa’s droll tone, then swiped a hand through the air. “Don’t worry about him.”
“Can I get anyone a drink?” Zayne stepped in, and Chloé could’ve kissed him as he took the bottle of wine from her.
Her dad nodded, his eyes sparkling. “That sounds like a brilliant idea. Joel will take an old fashioned, Jules a glass of that wine he brought, and I’ll take anything that makes me feel good.”
Zayne chuckled. “How about you come and show me what that is?”
“Oh, I’d love to.”
Dad headed through to the main living room with Zayne, and Père crossed back to follow with Papa. Chloé waited by the door for Ethan, who trailed behind.
When he reached her, he took her hand and leaned in to say by her ear, “I don’t think your papa likes me.”
She glanced up at him and tried for her most convincing smile. “No, it just takes him a little bit to warm up, that’s all.”
“Ah, I see.” As they strolled through the archway that led into the living area, Ethan looked over to the bar where everyone had gathered. “So what you’re saying is, I should sit next to him at dinner tonight?”
Chloé almost tripped on her feet at the suggestion. But Ethan’s hand on her arm saved her, and when she looked up at him and caught his slight smirk, she couldn’t help but laugh.
“That was mean.”
“I know. But it made you smile.” He winked and steered her over to the bar, where Zayne handed him a whiskey neat and Chloé a wine, and when everyone had a glass, Ethan raised his.
“To Chloé and her fathers. Welcome to the Holt Estate. We hope you enjoy your stay and that we all come out of this weekend alive.”
A RELAXING DRINK in the living room and some small talk here and there had eased some of Chloé’s nerves. In fact, as far as she was concerned, everything had been going quite well. If she didn’t count the death stares being lobbed back and forth between Ethan and her papa.
What was it with those two?
“I have a confession to make,” Ethan said as they all headed toward the dining room. “When I realized we would be cooking for the famous Julien Thornton-Priestley—”
“You decided to order in?” Papa said as though trying to catch Ethan off guard.
“Yes, actually.” Ethan showed no remorse. “Isla will be serving it shortly.”
Chloé bit back her laugh. Papa just might’ve met his match.
The table was set up with three chairs on either side, and Ethan pulled a chair out for Zayne then Chloé. As her fathers moved to the opposite side, she took her seat. Papa mimicked Ethan’s move to a tee, and she stopped for a second just to watch.
Huh, interesting…
“I would never insult Julien with my cooking.” Ethan took his seat on the other side of her. “Although Chloé did offer to help me.”
Papounet smiled. “Oh, she did, did she?”
“ Oui , she did.”
“Oh, tu parles francais?”
Chloé knew Ethan’s French was minimal, and she was about to answer for him when he held up his fingers an inch apart and replied, “ Un petit peu .”
“How fun,” her dad chimed in as Zayne uncorked a new bottle of wine. “Jules taught me French when we first started dating. When did you learn? School?”
“No, actually. It’s something I’ve just picked up recently.”