“I think it’s honest.”
Leave it to a man as eloquent as Max to find the perfect one-word description.
“This is nothing like Las Vegas,” Ethan pointed out. “Nor is it like London or Barcelona.”
“It’s not. The noise of the big city is stripped away, leaving me with only you.” Max squeezed his hand. “Believe it or not, I can appreciate when simpler is better, Ethan. I feel that way here.”
Ethan didn’t mention Max’s mother, or how his mother had managed to hide the fact that this place was rustic shabby chic to someone with Marcela’s refined tastes. Ethan figured his mom had worked some Voodoo to keep the truth of this place under wraps for so long. What happened when the truth came out and Marcela discovered the barn floor was made of dirt and that there would be insects in the grasses?
Maybe it was a concern best tackled later.
“You love it, don’t you?” Alison asked excitedly as she joined them. “Everyone does! But of course, we’ll make everything all about you. This will be your special day, no one else’s.” She reached for her messenger bag. “I have samples—”
“It’s alright, Alison.” Ethan waved off her surprise. “We’re leaving all the details to our mothers. Max and I will go along with whatever they select.”
“Oh.” She looked flummoxed. “Well, alright. That’s easy!” Her laugh was boisterous. “Of course, everything you’ve seen today is only there for display purposes. Your mothers have already purchased and rented several fabrics and decorations. The tablecloths, the—”
“Yes,” Ethan cut her off with a smile. “We’re aware of all that. Max here has been footing the bill for it.”
“We both have,” Max reminded him with a squeeze of the hand. To Alison he said, “We approve of everything. Please go forward with whatever plans you’ve made with our mothers.”
“You’ve got it,” she said cheerfully.
“Would you mind giving us a moment of privacy?” Max asked her with one of his devastating smiles.
Ethan pinched his lips to stop himself from laughing at her dazed expression.
“Um, sure. Absolutely. Whatever you like.” She stumbled off through the grass.
“I think she has a crush on you,” Ethan whispered as he slid his arms behind Max’s back. “Utterly shameful. We’re about to get married.”
“It appears I have no shame when it comes to my future husband.” Max tugged him closer. “Are you happy with this?”
“I’m happy with everything that’s entered my life since I met you.”
Max kissed his forehead. “There may be issues.”
He didn’t elaborate, but they both knew he was talking about Marcela.
“We’ll deal with them,” Ethan said confidently. “What matters is that I’d really like to be married to you here, Max. This place is perfect.”
“I feel the same.”
They moved to the dais, but didn’t stand on it, both of them sharing the same need to keep the space sacred until the day they were united forever. As they gazed out at the view, Ethan rested his head on Max’s shoulder.
“I’m going to be married,” he said in awe.
“What a lucky man your husband will be,” Max murmured.
The sun moved. The clouds shifted. Ethan took a mental snapshot, and smiled at the promise of the future. They said their goodbyes to Alison and climbed into their car. As Ethan buckled his seatbelt, he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out and studied the notification on the screen.
“Everything alright?” Max asked, throwing glances at him as he drove the car back onto the dirt road.
“Everything’s fine.” Ethan smiled and tucked his phone away. But the message from Theo Smith burned across his consciousness.
Ethan, please. I need your help! It’s an emergency!
How long, Ethan thought dispiritedly, can I afford to ignore this?
Chapter Nine
He told Max about the message later that night while they were in bed. Ethan had to keep his voice low because even a decently loud cough would carry through the walls of his parents’ house, something he and Max were acutely aware of.
“I debated bothering you about this because I’m not sure it’s real,” Ethan confessed. “Theo’s a drama queen. If he were in genuine danger, I would have expected a call, not a text. But then again, he’s strange, so maybe he thought a text is appropriate... I just don’t know.”
“Your skepticism is warranted,” Max murmured. “I haven’t received any notifications from Veronica, which increases my own doubt.” He rolled over to pick up his phone from the nightstand. The light illuminated his face as he checked his phone. “She completed her daily check-in and hasn’t reported anything.”
Ethan chewed on the inside of his cheek. “So you think Theo is crying wolf again.”
“I’m saying the agent who is in charge of his protection hasn’t seen or heard anything of concern regarding her client.”
Veronica was a very capable agent, so Ethan agreed that Theo wasn’t in danger. At least, not while in her company.
“Maybe someone’s been harassing him after she’s gone home for the day?”
“If he’s keeping knowledge of threats to himself, what can his protectors be expected to do for him?” Max asked.
“Right. It’s not on her.” Ethan waited for Max to set his phone aside before snuggling up with him. He used his fingertip to write his name on Max’s chest. “I’d brush this off except for one thing. Theo’s paranoid. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he feels Veronica won’t believe him or won’t be able to handle whatever this is. For better or worse, he trusts me.”
“You’re no longer his agent for a reason,” Max pointed out with a sliver of irritation stabbed through his voice. “He either trusts you or he feels comfortable lying to you.”
Ethan grimaced as he relived that moment when he’d realized Theo had set up the scene at the airport. How foolish he’d felt. How angry.
“It’s probably a little of both,” he said. “It’s easier to try to scam someone you believe wouldn’t do the same to you.”
“Being a good, trusting man is not a liability,” Max said firmly. “Chances are he’s saying what he thinks will get your attention. You can’t play into his hands.”
“But wouldn’t it be unprofessional of me to ignore a call for help?”
“I’m not concerned with professional reputation.” Max’s sigh was heavy. “However, we have a responsibility to him as human beings to check in on him, much as it pains me to say it.”
Ethan kissed his sternum. “I’m sorry for this. This is only happening because he thinks he made some sort of connection with me.”
“If his game is deception, then odds are he would have found an angle to use regardless if the agent was you or someone else. This isn’t your fault.”
Ethan sat up. “I’ll text back. His message is six hours old. He could have already solved the issue on his own, or if there wasn’t one to begin with, he’s moved on.”