Chapter Thirty-Six #2
I put a hand over my face in despair, then steal a quick glance at Max between my fingers. She’s nibbling on her food. From the intense focus, it looks like she hasn’t heard, although I know she did and has an opinion.
What is she thinking?
I glare at my parents. How can they be this consistently embarrassing?
Finn, Roarke, Silas, Gideon, Xavier and Liam all gesture for the vodka. I pass it off to Roarke, since he’s the closest, then grab another and hand it to Xavier. Grandfather watches us like he’d trade his soul for a sip—he used to love indulging in top-shelf liquors.
Grandmother glares at Dad, ignoring the bottles being passed around. “As was mentioned, Rhys, you should’ve given my list some consideration.”
“Listen to your grandmother,” Grandfather finally says, although thankfully his tone is softer and more diplomatic than it would be if Max weren’t here. “It’s important to respect her efforts. She only wants the best.”
“Exactly.” Mom smiles. “If you’re open about everything, nothing you do will ever damage your relationship with Max.”
My gut knots. I look at her in resignation and embarrassment, wishing I were anywhere but here.
Max’s eyes narrow. This isn’t her first rodeo with my parents. She knows exactly what they’re implying.
Frederich appears, thankfully interrupting the flow of conversation. He clears everyone’s plate, including mine, then serves us salad before disappearing. The only person who looks happy at all the greens is Grandmother.
“Don’t worry. No pedigree beats a pretty face and perky tits.” Dad winks at Max.
“Looks fade, breasts sag,” Grandmother says.
“Well,” Max says with a smile as sweet as poisoned sugar, “since I’m the youngest here, mine will always be the perkiest in this room.”
My hand tightens around my fork. Just exactly how pissed off is she?
“Maybe not. My plastic surgeon is highly capable,” Mom says.
Grandmother regards them both as though they’re intellectually challenged, then turns to me. “This is why you always look at the breeding.”
“Right,” Max says, laying a hand on mine. “Like a pig farmer.”
Grandfather gasps. My jaw goes slack with surprise, and I stare at Max. I didn’t expect her to sass my grandmother, but should’ve expected it. She isn’t the type to take abuse lying down.
The knot in my belly eases slightly. If she’s giving it back, she hasn’t hit the point of no return, right? This is a woman who might be able to actually handle my family.
Gideon chokes on something, then coughs violently.
Grandmother’s face turns cold with disapproval. “Manners!”
Finn pounds Gideon’s back. “Can’t worry about manners if he’s dying.”
“Good God! How have you been raising these children?” Grandmother demands of Mom.
“Please don’t ask when the result speaks for itself.” Mom gestures at us.
“The only reason we weren’t taken away by child protective services is that you’re too well connected,” Xavier mutters, barely loud enough for me and a few other brothers to hear.
Grandmother inhales slowly. The slight tremor of her cheeks betrays her agitation. Finally, she turns back to me. “What about Selena Chesterfield?” she says, her voice calmer now.
Max tenses, her knuckles whitening around her fork. I run a soothing hand down her arm, but it doesn’t seem to help.
Grandmother continues, “She’s free now. Didn’t you know each other?”
“Yeah, fourteen years ago,” I say. “She moved on. So did I.”
Grandmother smiles serenely. “So you can try again with more maturity.”
“Hold on.” Mom frowns. “Is this the girl who freaked out over Chava’s penis?”
I grind my teeth. Max cocks an eyebrow, and I need to stop Mom from elaborating. “Yes,” I say quickly before she can add more details to jog my memory.
Dad lets out a horrified gasp. “Oh, no. She’s waaay too uptight. She’d be a terrible lay. Type who insists on missionary in the dark with double condoms. You won’t be able to feel anything, if you can even get it up in the first place—”
I interrupt. “Why don’t you—”
“Exactly,” Mom says. She turns to address all of us brothers. “Don’t worry if you’ve ever had that experience. It isn’t erectile dysfunction if your penis stays limp with only one particular woman.”
Grandmother loses her composure. “Auric! Elita!”
“Mother, you know it’s true!” Dad says defensively. “I don’t want Rhys scarred!”
Too late! But it isn’t me he’s scarring, it’s Max. He’s never been this outspoken in the office. Or at least not in front of her, because I try to get her out of the room as much as possible when he and Mom visit.
But now, they’re being so embarrassing that nausea roils inside me. I reach over and place my hand on her forearm, needing the physical connection to anchor my spiraling emotions.
“Selena is British nobility!” Grandmother says.
“Her aunt is a baroness,” Mom scoffs. “Hardly worth mentioning. For all we know, Max’s mother could be related to a British earl.”
“Mom was an everyday American woman,” Max says with a soulless smile.
Dad leans forward. “Your father?”
Her eyes turn icy. “Dead.”
I look at her in shock. I didn’t expect her to be so decisive and cold in cutting him out. Normally I’d admire her, but right now, my stomach knots painfully. What if she decides to cut her losses and let me go? Am I going to be dead to her then?
“A long-lost princess is a possibility,” Dad persists.
“Pedigree matters,” Grandmother says, wanting to make a point—and control my life.
“Rhys isn’t buying a horse,” Roarke says.
“And Max is smart. Don’t you want smart great-grandbabies?” Liam says, trying to defuse the tension.
Max jerks her head up, sudden tension radiating from her in waves.
Fuck. I knew it. They went too far!
“Rhys is smart enough,” Grandfather says.
Grandmother nods. “I never expected his wife to contribute much in that regard.”
Liam shrugs, while giving me an I-tried look. Max stabs a mini-tomato so hard, it bursts. And my heart is about to overload with anxiety.
“None of this is relevant. The only thing that matters is that I chose her,” I manage, despite the apprehension clenched around my throat. “I’m not changing my mind no matter what you say.”
“Aren’t you too old to rebel?” Grandmother says stiffly.
I raise an eyebrow. “I’ll tell you what I’m too old for: having someone else run my life.”
“What’s the entrée?” Finn asks in a desperate attempt to change the topic.
“Lamb chops.” Dad rubs his hands with anticipation. “My favorite. Jane Pryce prepped it, so you know it’s going to be amazing,” he says, referring to one of the most sought-after caterers in the area.
“I think I want to head home. I’m allergic to lamb served with bad company.” Max’s eyes zero in on my grandmother.
She scoffs quietly. Do you think I care about what you think? She doesn’t say it, but might as well. “Call her an Uber, Rhys.”
I stand. “Actually, I’ll drive her home.”
“You aren’t her chauffer.”
“No, I’m her boyfriend. We live together.”
“Already? You aren’t even married. She’s…so…beneath you!”
“Grandmother!”
Max puts a warm hand on my taut forearm, and turns to Grandmother.
“Thank you for the invitation, but I’ve had enough of this.
I don’t care for your constant harping about my lack of pedigree or whatever else you find inadequate.
This is the twenty-first century. We are what we achieve through our own hard work, not some position our ancestors held.
What’s important is that Rhys and I care for and respect each other.
That’s more important than any objection you can throw at us.
” Holding her head high, she loops her arm through mine. “Let’s go.”
I nod curtly to my forebears and head out with her.
My brothers shoot me looks full of sympathy and encouragement.
Grandmother’s face turns white, red, then purple, the vein in her forehead throbbing.
Grandfather pats her back, giving me a disapproving glare for upsetting her.
Dad waves carelessly, while Mom blows kisses like a beauty pageant queen on a parade.
I open the car door for Max, then close it once she’s settled in. I climb behind the wheel, and the Cullinan’s engine purrs to life. I take us back on the road.
Embarrassment and dread twine inside my gut. The single shot of vodka I finished seems to burn.