Chapter Twelve

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.”

Papounetsmiled. “Oh, she did, did she?”

“Oui, she did.”

“Oh, tu parles français?”

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.”

“If that’s a reference to our daughter…”

Ethan looked across the table at Papa. “It’s not, though it would be rather on point now, wouldn’t it?”

Dad snorted as Père reached for his glass of wine, and Chloé looked between the two and shook her head.

“Really, Papa? Stop it.”

“Fine.” Papa picked up his wine glass. “Where did you learn French?”

“I picked up a few words when I was in France.”

Chloé’s jaw hit the table as she turned to Ethan. “You were in France?”

The smile that slowly curved Ethan’s lips made a shiver race up her spine. “Yes. I had just returned the night we met.”

The night we— Oh God.

Chloé’s stomach flipped and her cheeks heated, and Ethan’s smile turned smug. She knew exactly what night he was talking about—her first night at The Office. The night Zayne had been giving a demonstration and Ethan had showed up and—well, she knew exactly how that ended.

Focus, Chloé. Don’t think about that now.

“Where in France did you visit?” Père asked, unaware of her internal meltdown.

“Paris.” Ethan looked to Zayne. “We just bought a place there. So we’ll be going back very soon for a visit.”

“To Paris?” Chloé was thankful her glass of wine was full as she started to gulp it down. How did she not know this? Yes, they’d been preoccupied with other things, but how had this never come up?

“Yes,” Ethan said, calm as you please. “We purchased the place a month or so ago and were waiting for it to close and all the paperwork to go through.”

“Ah, oui. It’s always more complicated purchasing property overseas. Even as a citizen, it took time for us.” Père looked between Ethan and Zayne. “Where in Paris are you? If you don’t mind me asking? We have a place in the second arrondissement.”

Zayne looked at Père, a frown creasing his brow. “That’s right by us, isn’t it, Ethan? We’re in the first.”

Wow, they have a place in Paris? In the first arrondissement? This is crazy.

“That’s a very exclusive area,” Papa said, suspicion lacing his words. “Expensive.”

“It is.” Ethan sat back in his seat, clearly not bothered by whatever her papa might be implying.

“And what is it that you two do that you can afford all of this?”

“Papa!” Chloé wasn’t sure if her outrage was over him asking something so personal or Ethan giving him the actual answer.

“What?” Papa’s eyes found hers. “That’s a perfectly normal question, isn’t it? To ask what they do?”

Well, yes, she supposed it was. But the answer wasn’t.

Chloé whipped her head in Ethan’s direction, and she knew she was screwed. He wasn’t going to lie. That wasn’t his way, and while her papa might one day appreciate that fact, she didn’t think that day would be today.

“We own a club.”

“Like a dance club?” Dad’s eyes lit with excitement as Chloé’s stomach twisted into a knot. “I love to dance.”

“No.” Ethan shook his head. “Not a dance club.”

Chloé felt Zayne’s hand on hers under the table, and when she looked at him and he shrugged, his message was clear: There’sno stopping it now.

“Then what kind of club is it?” Papa’s eyes narrowed on Ethan.

Oh God, just kill me now.

“It’s a sex club.”

The room fell silent.

So silent you could’ve heard a pin drop—or a heartbeat. Hers was thumping so loud there was no way she was the only one who could hear it. She tried to think of something, anything, to say to defuse the tension that had just blanketed the room.

She wasn’t quick enough, though, and before she could remember how to speak, her papa shoved his chair back from the table and got to his feet.

“I need a goddamn minute,” he said, then headed outside.

* * *

ZAYNE GLANCED AROUND the table, and wasn’t all that surprised by the looks of shock on Julien and Robbie’s faces. The air in the room had practically been sucked out with Priest’s exit, and Chloé looked like she might pass out.

The second the question was asked, Zayne had known Ethan wouldn’t lie, so he’d braced for impact. Chloé, however, seemed stunned speechless.

“Did you just say you own a sex club?” Robbie seemed equal parts surprised and thrilled by the idea, whereas Julien just looked bewildered.

“Yes,” Ethan said. “It’s an exclusive high-end club downtown called The—”

“Office.” Robbie turned in his seat and placed a hand on his husband’s arm. “Jules, that’s the club that I—”

“Oh my God.” Chloé finally spoke up, the horror in her voice evident as her wide eyes landed on her two remaining fathers. “Please tell me that you haven’t been there. That you aren’t members.”

The implications of that scenario hadn’t even occurred to Zayne until right then. But if her fathers were members, the likelihood that they would’ve seen him or Ethan during a demonstration was—

“No.” Robbie shook his head vehemently. “No, we aren’t.” He grinned. “But we almost were.”

“Oh God.” Chloé covered her face. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“I think your papa might be feeling the same way.” Julien let out a breath and shook his head. “Really, Chloé. You couldn’t have told us this before tonight?”

Chloé lowered her hands and eyed him across the table. “You told me that my private life was mine. That’s private.”

“Well, yes, of course it is, dear.” Robbie leaned across the table and added in a hushed voice, “But no one likes to think about their daughter at a sex—”

“Dad!”

Robbie frowned, clearly torn between fatherly outrage and maybe a little bit of pride. In the end, he looked over his shoulder to where Priest had exited the house.

“I think that maybe I should go and check on him.”

Under any other circumstance, Zayne would sit tight and let the chips fall where they may, but the stress on Chloé’s face told him that she might need her dad’s optimism right now.

“I’ll go.”

Robbie looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Zayne stepped away from the table and caught Ethan’s eyes. He looked concerned, but Zayne had this. “Old fashioned, right?”

“Right,” Julien said as Zayne made his way to the bar.

He mixed the drinks, winked at Chloé, then headed for the doors. He walked outside and across the patio, until he spotted Priest down in the gardens. Night had fallen, but the landscape lighting made the grounds just as beautiful to walk in the evening as during the days.

With the drinks in hand, Zayne made his way across the perfectly cut lawn and over to where Priest stood staring out at the lake.

Priest was an intimidating man, not only in height and stature but in his overall demeanor that screamed, Back the fuck off. His shoulders were rigid, his spine stiff as a board, and as he caught the sound of Zayne’s approach, he said in a curt tone, “I said I need a minute.”

Zayne’s feet faltered for a second, but then he remembered why he was out there and told himself to man the fuck up.

“It’s been more than a minute, and your daughter’s getting upset.”

“Well, that’s her own fault.”

“Actually, it’s yours.”

Priest slowly turned to look over his shoulder, and the look in his eye suggested Zayne should either shut up or run. But he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Drink?” He held up the tumbler and walked over.

Priest’s eyes narrowed as he reached for the glass. “You two have some serious balls, I’ll give you that. It’s not often people stand up to me, but you two seem to be making a habit of it.”

Zayne looked out at the property he and Ethan called home. “Adversity was an everyday occurrence for us as kids. We’re used to fighting for what we want.”

“So that’s what this is? You two fighting us for Chloé?”

“No. I’m just pointing out that we don’t give up easy.” Zayne took a sip of his drink. “Not when something’s important to us.”

Yeah, he was onto this guy. Priest might not like what he saw when he looked at him and Ethan, but Zayne had a sneaking suspicion that was because he saw a lot of himself in them—especially Ethan.

It was almost uncanny, really, but the moment Priest had stepped out of the car, Zayne had recognized him. And any fear or nerves over meeting him had vanished.

Strong, powerful, and guarded. Like Ethan, Priest was possessive and extremely protective over those he loved—and lucky for Zayne, he understood exactly how those men ticked.

“I know you don’t like us very much right now.” When Priest said nothing to refute that, Zayne continued, “You have every reason not to.”

“You think?”

“But Red—Chloé—wants to be with us whether you like it or not.”

Priest shook his head and walked toward the property’s edge. “I thought you came out here to get me to come back inside?”

“I did.”

“You have a funny way of going about it.”

“Probably, but I’ve never been real good with parents.” Priest glanced at him, and Zayne shrugged. “Not really a shock considering who my father is, right?”

If Priest felt any kind of pity for him, it didn’t show as he looked back out to the lake.

“Parents don’t have to define who you become as an adult.”

Zayne scoffed. “Oh yeah? You grow up with a bigoted narcissist as a father?”

“I grew up with much worse.” Priest’s tone was as icy as the wind that would whip up off the lake in the dead of winter. Then he turned and pinned Zayne with a stare just as cold. “But we’re not here to talk about my piece-of-shit father, or yours. We’re here discussing me as a father, and I’ll be damned if I sit in there and act happy that your partner just informed me that the two of you own a sex club. He’s too cocky for his own good.”

“Would you rather he’d lied?”

“What do you think?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

Priest’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re just like him.” When Priest said nothing, Zayne smirked. “Ethan. He’s blunt, to the point, and will never tell you a lie.”

“Never?”

“Not even to spare your daughter’s embarrassment.”

“And that’s supposed to make me like him?”

“Nope. But it’s meant to help you understand him a little better. Maybe even respect him a bit. Look, Ethan’s not the easiest person to get to know. Trust me, I get it. But he is the most caring, loyal, and protective partner a person could ask for.”

“Oh, come on.” Priest drained the rest of his drink, and Zayne took a moment to study the man.

Up close he could see laugh lines around eyes the same color as Chloé’s. He had thick silver hair cut into a modern haircut that made him extremely handsome despite his perpetual scowl. But right now, he was looking at Zayne as though he was out of his mind.

“You two own a sex club, not a honeymoon resort.”

“Some people might consider those two things one and the same. Are you saying sex shouldn’t be part of a love life?”

Priest’s lips twitched, and Zayne felt a kind of triumph at having made the guy laugh.

“Watch it.”

“All I’m saying is to maybe give Ethan a chance. You might not like him, but he will protect Chloé with everything he has. Look at what he’s done for her already. He’ll make sure she’s happy and safe. Just as he does with me. That’s who he is. We’re not some spoiled rich guys who own a sex club and don’t give a shit about your daughter.”

When Priest just stood there, Zayne thought maybe he’d gone too far. He’d never been the best at saying what he thought, but it was too late to take it back now.

“That’s an awfully compelling argument.”

Zayne shrugged. “I just didn’t want you to have the wrong idea, that’s all.”

“And does he know you’re out here advocating for him?”

“He knows I’m out here.”

Priest scoffed and looked up at the mansion looming behind them. “You’re telling me you aren’t rich?”

“Ethan’s rich. Not me. And yeah, he might come off cocky, or arrogant, whatever you want to call it. But if you look a little closer, you’ll see the nerves. They just look a little different. Do you really thinking he’d be trying so hard to impress all of you if he didn’t care? He would never have gone through with this weekend if Chloé wasn’t important to him.”

Priest turned back to the lake, and they stood there for a couple of minutes in silence looking out at the lights shimmering across the water.

“Ethan said this house belonged to his family.” The statement was so off topic that it caught Zayne by surprise. “Where are they?”

Zayne shook his head. “That’s not my story to tell.”

Priest eyed him closely, and Zayne wondered if this moment was going to undo everything that had come before it, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t do that to Ethan.

But Priest nodded and held his hand out. “I can respect that,” he said as Zayne shook it, then he yanked him in and said by his ear, “But if either of you hurt my little girl, I’ll kill you.”

Zayne swallowed and pulled back to look him in the eye. “We figured.”

“Good.” Priest clapped him on the back. “As long as we understand each other.”

They headed back through the garden in comfortable silence. When Priest was the first to walk in the house, the look of shock on his husbands’ faces told Zayne all he needed to know.

He’d just accomplished the impossible. He’d soothed the “scary” one.

“I’m not going to apologize for needing some fresh air.” Priest took his seat beside Robbie and looked across the table at Ethan. “You got any other secrets up your sleeve, or is that it?”

Ethan didn’t even hesitate. “That’s it.”

Priest looked to Chloé. “What about you?”

“Ah, no. I think that pretty much covers it.”

“Good. I don’t want to talk or think about that anymore.”

She quickly nodded as Zayne made his way to his seat. As he sat down, Chloé leaned in and whispered, “Are you okay?”

He chuckled and squeezed her knee under the table. “I’m great.”

She arched a brow as though she didn’t believe him.

“Seriously. We had a good talk.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We came to an understanding.”

“Oh? And what was that?”

Zayne looked past her to Ethan. “We don’t hurt you and he won’t kill us.”

Chloé’s eyes widened, and as she glared down the table—no doubt about to give her papa a piece of her mind—Isla appeared like a godsend.

“Good evening, sir,” she addressed Ethan, and all talk ceased. “Is everyone ready for dinner now?”

“Yes, I believe so. Thank you, Isla.”

“My pleasure. It’ll be right out.”

* * *

NEVER LET IT be said that good food and wine couldn’t ease the tension in a room.

With everyone relaxed and fully satiated, Ethan suggested they all move to the barroom to enjoy the rest of the night. As he led the way downstairs, he fell into step with Zayne. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to him one on one since Priest had been convinced to come back inside. But the relaxed mood he’d managed to pull out of Chloé’s papa was a testimony to the kind of man Zayne was.

“Things went well when you spoke to Priest earlier, I assume?”

Zayne glanced at him as they headed down a set of mosaic-tiled stairs and through the arched hallways. “If by well, you mean I’m still alive…”

“No. By well, I mean when Priest came back from your little talk, he actually had a smile on his face.”

“Did he?”

Ethan arched a brow. “You know he did. What did you two talk about?”

“You know, you almost sound a little jealous.”

“Maybe I am.”

Zayne scoffed. “No need to be. We just talked about the things we loved, so you were there for the whole conversation.”

“Charmer.”

“You asked.”

“Uh huh.” Ethan shook his head. “He hates me, doesn’t he?”

Zayne ummed and ahhed a little, then grinned. “I mean, I think he hates you a little less now, if that helps.”

“Is it supposed to?”

Zayne started to laugh as Chloé came up beside him. “Is what supposed to what?” she asked, grinning happily.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Ethan fingered one of the gold bracelets at her wrist and leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek. “How is everyone doing?”

“Good. They’re all stuffed. Dinner was amazing.”

“While we can’t take credit for that, I will take credit for finding a fantastic restaurant nearby.”

“As you should.” She laughed. “My père’s very picky.”

He figured, but as he looked over at the three men settling into the custom-built lounging booths, they seemed relaxed enough. There were even a couple of smiles.

“Don’t tell him I told you,” Chloé whispered as she climbed up on one of the barstools. “But my papa is dying over this room.”

Ethan looked at Zayne, a victorious smile on his lips. They may or may not have decided to retire to this room after Chloé let slip that her papa was a Sinatra fan. As it turned out, fate was being kind to him tonight, because his late mother had also been a fan. Not only of Sinatra but the entire Hollywood Golden Age, and his father had had their bar fitted out like an old speakeasy.

“I thought he might enjoy it.”

“You thought right.” She gave him a thumbs-up. “Big points, and Dad is practically giddy over the stage in the corner.”

“Then he should get up on it.”

Chloé’s eyes widened. “Don’t even.”

“Why not?” Zayne chuckled. “You don’t think he’d feel comfortable?”

“Uh, I think he’d feel a little too comfortable.”

“Perfect.” Zayne waggled his brows.

“Don’t you—”

“Robbie?”

“Oh my God.” Chloé buried her face in Ethan’s arm, laughing as Robbie swiveled in his seat to look over at them.

“Did I hear my name?”

“You sure did.” Zayne grinned, and Robbie jumped to his feet and made his way to the bar. “A little birdie told us that you like to sing.”

“Aww.” Robbie stroked Chloé’s hair. “Did she now? Did she also tell you that she likes to sing?”

“No, she did not.” Ethan chuckled as Chloé’s cheeks flushed, and her dad nodded.

“Oh yes. She’s quite the performer. Even if she’s a little off key at times.”

“Dad.”

“What? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You got your papa’s ear. The most important thing is you have fun.”

Ethan rested back against the bar and eyed their girl. “Well, now we have to see. Right, Zayne?”

Chloé looked like she wanted to murder the both of them, but when her dad clapped his hands together in excitement, her irritation seemed to vanish. She hopped off her stool and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“Fine. But only if I get to pick the song.”

Robbie’s eyes sparkled at his daughter. “Deal, and bartender?”

Zayne perked up.

“How about you whip us up something for when we get done?”

“You got it.”

Ethan pushed away from the bar, about to lead them to the stage, when Chloé moved over to him. “You do know if I do this, you have to also. That’s the deal.”

“Whose deal?”

“The Thornton-Priestley deal.” She aimed a sassy wink his way. “It’s the way we show affection.”

He chuckled and leaned in to whisper by her ear, “Want me to show you how I show my affection?”

“Okay, you two,” Robbie interrupted. “It’s time to pick the music.”

“So it is.” Ethan took Chloé’s hand and led her over to a wall full of vinyl. “They’re in alphabetical order. My parents were huge collectors, so any band, group you can think of, it’s likely there. If not, we always have streaming.”

Chloé nodded, then started looking through the albums. Robbie came up beside him.

“I’ve been watching the way you both are with her.”

Caught off guard, Ethan turned to the youngest of Chloé’s fathers.

“Don’t think I don’t know what those cuffs on her wrists mean, though. That she holds the power, yes?”

Ethan didn’t hesitate for a second. “Most definitely.”

“Good.” Robbie’s eyes lit back up. “Then I approve. We all do, as long as she’s happy.”

“That’s all we want.”

“Then make sure you keep it that way…sir.” Robbie turned back to where Chloé was still searching through the albums, and she pulled one out and held it up in triumph.

“I got it!”

“What song?” Robbie asked.

“I’m not telling you. It’ll be a surprise.”

“Fine.” Robbie passed his drink off to Julien and then headed up to the stage.

“Do you sing?” Julien asked, and Ethan shook his head.

“No. My father built the stage when he renovated this area. He used to play guitar with his friends until all hours of the night.”

“I bet that was fun when you were growing up.”

“I was eight. I don’t really remember.”

Julien opened his mouth as though about to say something else, but—thank God for small mercies—Chloé stepped up to the mic and tapped it.

“Testing. Testing.”

As her voice echoed around the room, Robbie laughed merrily. “Oh, this is going to be fun!”

Julien’s eyes softened on Ethan, but he turned back to the two getting ready up on stage, and Ethan caught Priest looking at him over his husband’s head, his eyes full of questions that Ethan didn’t want to even think about.

He walked over to Chloé. “Do you have the record?”

“I do. Track two, please.” She held the album out, and Ethan chuckled.

“That’s perfect.”

“Right?”

Ethan walked over to the stereo and placed the record on. Then he looked back to their two performers. “Ready?”

Chloé and Robbie moved up to the mic, and both gave a thumbs-up. “Ready.”

As the piano opening lit up the room, Priest groaned so loud Ethan could hear it over the music, as Chloé and her dad launched into the opening lines of “Dancing Queen.”

One in key and one…not so much.

As the two danced around and ooohed and aaahed about a young girl who was young and sweet, Chloé looked right at him and winked. But when she moved into the verse about being a tease who could turn them on, well, he wasn’t going to encourage that with her fathers around.

Ethan glanced at Zayne to see he’d put the shaker down, and was watching with a huge grin on his face as the pair sashayed around the stage like they’d performed this number many times.

When it finally came to an end, Julien got to his feet clapping. “Bravo! Bravo! Encore. Encore.”

Priest looked to Zayne. “Drinks before that happens, please.”

Robbie waved them all off but hurried over to his husbands, while Chloé stepped off the stage toward Ethan.

“Well, what’d you think?”

Ethan took her hand as they walked to the bar. “I think you were very…committed.”

She reared back and swatted him on the chest. “What does that mean?”

Ethan looked to Zayne for help, but he just shook his head, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“It means you gave it your all.”

Chloé crossed her arms, a full pout on her pretty lips. “You made me do it.”

“I know.” Ethan’s lips twitched as he drew her in to kiss her temple. “And I’ll thank you from the bottom of my heart to never do it again.”

She burst out laughing and shoved him away. “You’re terrible.”

“Probably so. What do you think, Zayne?”

Zayne nodded. “Definitely terrible.”

Chloé picked up one of the glasses on the counter and took a sip. “Well, just for that, I’m not putting out tonight.”

Ethan’s eyes fell to the naughty little minx’s lips, and before he even thought it through, he said, “What about in Paris?”

Chloé’s mouth hovered over the edge of the glass. “Did you just say—”

“Come to Paris with us.”

Ethan looked to Zayne, whose smile now matched his own.

“It’d be perfect, Red. You’d get away from the reporters and you can show us around your city…”

Her eyes glittered with hope and excitement as what they were asking sank in—then she looked over to where her fathers sat and frowned.

“What about them? You were all just starting to get along.”

Zayne chuckled and pulled out a bottle of vodka. “And there’s plenty more where this came from.”

“Well?” Ethan said, then lowered his voice so no one would accidentally overhear. “What do you say, petite fille?”

Chloé bit into her bottom lip as she nodded. “Oui, let’s go to Paris.”