He curled around his mother as much as he could with his injury. She no longer felt like a cold thing he didn’t know. She trembled against him, vulnerable and hurting. For the first time in his life, Max felt protective of her.
“I’m alright,” he assured her. “I’m going to be just fine. You have nothing to fear. We will be alright.”
“My Maxmillian,” she choked out. “I love you so much.”
A warm hand settled on Max’s shoulder. “Son...we both do.”
He forced the cynical walls down. It wasn’t easy to let his parents inside. Mistrust came easier. He was comfortable with it. But he didn’t want to continue living with it. He wanted to watch his husband hugging his parents and be warmed by it. He wanted his parents to hug him and be comforted by it.
“Thank you,” he murmured, holding his father’s gaze. “Thank you for coming to see me.”
~~~~~
He explained how his injury had occurred, finding some satisfaction in the surprise and admiration that Philip couldn’t completely hide. Though his parents were aware of the function of The Elite Poole Worldwide, Max could tell they’d not fully comprehended the reality of it and the potential dangers inherent in such work. Max being in the hospital made the danger tangible, and so, too, his commitment to his clients.
“You should assign those jobs to your agents,” his mother stated for the second time after Max finished talking. “You’re the agent-in-charge. You manage the danger, you don’t partake in it, Maxmillian!”
“Ordinarily I don’t, but as I told you, it was a unique situation.”
Marcela smoothed the blanket along the mattress, her gaze averted. “How has Ethan handled this?”
“Barely better than you did,” Max said with a small, fond smile.
She glanced up with a quick smile of her own, clearly pleased that she wasn’t the only one with such a reaction. “See? That’s two of the most important people in your life telling you not to take such risks.”
The words circled in his belly and then settled like a pleased, contented cat. “Indeed. I’ll take it under advisement, Mother.”
“Have you informed his parents of your condition?” Philip asked.
Max nodded. “Ethan has already called them.”
Marcela stood a little straighter. “Will your recovery delay the wedding?”
Max took her hand in his and mentally braced himself.
“Ethan and I have decided to marry privately here in Las Vegas. Probably as soon as I’m discharged.”
She blinked several times. “No-no ceremony? But all the planning...”
“We’re not cancelling. We’ll go ahead with it so you and his parents can enjoy the festivities. If you still desire it, we’ll hold a second ceremony in London.”
“Both will only be for show, then,” she said. He couldn’t read her tone or her expression.
Max glanced at his father, whose reaction was no easier to decipher. “Yes. Only for show.”
“I take it the official event will take place at the court house?” Philip asked.
“Ethan’s looking into it. But I believe for the sake of expediency we’ll obtain the license from the marriage bureau and utilize an officiant at a small chapel directly across the street. Services at the bureau tend to be heavily booked. There would be a longer wait than we would like.”
“Such a rush,” his mother breathed.
Max held her gaze. “This injury has put certain things into perspective for Ethan and me.”
She blanched.
“You’ll need a witness,” Philip stated.
Max searched his father’s face, unsure of what he saw. “I—yes...”
“Will two be allowed?” his mother asked quickly.
Max looked from one parent to another, absorbing the meaning behind their questions, the lack of arguments. He couldn’t believe his good fortune.
He squeezed his mother’s hand, grateful to her in a way he could never express. “I think two would be perfect, Mother.”
Her smile, he thought, was as warm and beautiful as the Mediterranean sun.
It was several minutes later when Ethan poked his head into the room. Max waved him to enter.
“It’s alright,” Max told him cryptically. “All of it.”
“Er, good?” Ethan smiled uncertainly at Max’s parents. “He’s going to be okay. The doctor told me everything went well. Just a few more days and he can go home.”
“We’re pleased,” Philip confirmed. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
“You don’t need to thank me for that. Ever.”
Philip’s thin lips twitched before he inclined his head in acknowledgement.
“We’re going to be your witnesses,” Marcela said excitedly.
Ethan’s eyes rounded. “Our what?”
“I told them of our amended marriage plans.” Max held back his smirk at Ethan’s expression of alarm. “They’re fully supportive and would like to attend.”
“Attend? Did you explain—”
“I did.”
It took Ethan several seconds of looking like a goldfish before he seemed to accept that the Pooles did indeed know what they were getting into.
“It’s just a little chapel,” Ethan said hastily to Marcela. “It won’t be fancy or probably even nice. I’m predicting high levels of tackiness. There won’t be an Elvis, though. I can promise you that.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said firmly, as though the initial idea of the chapel had been hers and she refused to be talked out of it. “I want to be there. For my son and for his future husband.”
“Wow,” Ethan murmured.
“Wow,” Max echoed affectionately.
Ethan looked to the floor as a soft smile curved his lips. “Thank you. It will mean everything to have you there.”
“It will mean everything,” Philip said, “to be there.”
Epilogue
“You’re the classiest groom this place has ever seen,” Ethan murmured as he adjusted Max’s tie while they stood together in the lobby of the White Chapel of Dreams. “They should be paying us to be here.”
The place was just as tacky as Ethan had warned Marcela it would be. An overabundance of cheap fake roses was pinned to the ceiling and sheets of once-white fabric in need of a good vacuuming hung from the walls. A half-bridge draped with fake grapevines sat in front of a wall mural of the Las Vegas Strip at night, as strange a photo-op as any Ethan had ever seen. Whitney Houston belted out I Will Always Love You on a loop over the sound system.
When they’d first stepped into the place, Ethan had cringed and looked worriedly to Max. But Max didn’t seem to see any of it. He had eyes only for Ethan.
Ethan nearly asked him about his wound, but he’d bitten his tongue. He knew Max would brush off his concern and rightly so. He had been discharged from the hospital nearly two weeks ago. As long as he didn’t exert himself, a small scar was the most Max would carry from the incident. What mattered was the here and now. This chapel, the marriage license they’d obtained, the ceremony that was due to begin at any minute. The way Max couldn’t seem to stop looking at him.