Perfect Chaos

I adjust my groin area. “You ready?”

Lainey finishes putting the diamonds in her ears and wafts her hair over her shoulders as she joins me by the door, collecting her gold purse on the way. “How do they look?”

My stare focuses on the smooth skin of her neck while I hold the door open for her. “Simply beautiful.”

“I feel spoiled.”

I place my palm on her bottom and start guiding her along. “And I feel lucky.”

“Me too.” She smiles up at me. “I just hope it doesn’t run out.”

I falter a fraction in my steps, seeing sadness behind her eyes. “What do you mean?” Is she suggesting something? And if so, what?

She coils her arm around my waist and hugs into me as we head for my car. “All good things must come to an end.”

Fuck. Nice timing, Lainey. But at least she sees us as a good thing, so I’m ignoring her latter, pessimistic ending. I heard her, loud and clear, when she adamantly argued that marriage would never be on the cards for her. I’m good with that . . . for now. But with each day, each text, each email, each kiss, each smile, I know exactly what I want here.

I don’t plan on letting this good thing end.“DO YOU DESCEND FROM ROYALTY?” Lainey asks as I pull up the sweeping driveway, her neck craning to take in the grounds of my uncle and aunt’s sprawling country pad.

“They think they’re royalty.” I laugh, pulling to a stop. Jumping out, I toss my keys to one of the valets and open Lainey’s door, offering my hand. She takes it, though continues to scan our surroundings.

“I feel underdressed,” she gripes. “Why didn’t you tell me I needed couture?”

“You look beautiful.” Placing my hand in the small of her back, I walk us up the steps to the entrance of Uncle Reg’s mansion. “Just remember, most of the people you’ll meet are nouveau riche.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you can take the people out of the gutter, but you can’t take the gutter out of the people.”

“You’re talking in a foreign language,” she mutters, seeming to become more awestruck with every step we take toward the house.

I smile at her. “They made their millions and bought the world, but their new money couldn’t buy them any decorum.”

“Oh.” She laughs, just as my uncle Reg appears, kitted out in a vile suit that’s probably worth more than your average family car.

“Tyler,” he bellows as he barrels toward us, his customary tumbler of brandy in his fat palm. “How the fuckin’ ’ell are ya?”

I wince and jerk forward when he smacks me on the shoulder with brute force. “Good, Uncle Reg. You?”

“Fuckin’ pearly, mate. Fuckin’ pearly. Stocks are bein’ kind ta me, and I ain’t dropped dead yet.” He raises his brandy and grins, wide and toothy, nodding toward Lainey. “And who’s this bootiful bit of arse?”

I look at Lainey, seeing her eyes are a little wide and shocked. “Uncle Reg, this is my . . .” I pause for a beat. This is my . . . what? What is Lainey to me? “This is Lainey.” I opt for simplicity, with a lack of an official title for my date.

“Lainey, eh?” Reg looks Lainey up and down, assessing her as he offers her his free hand. I want to rip his old, filthy eyes out of his fat, bald head. “Very nice,” he muses.

I move in closer to her, feeling like I need to protect her from the roving eye of my uncle. “Nice to meet you, Reg.” Lainey takes his hand and shakes on a smile.

“Pleasure’s all mine, darlin’. And how d’you know my slut of a nephew?”

I recoil, shocked. “Let’s not go—”

“We’re dating,” Lainey says, seeming unperturbed by my uncle’s crass question.

“Like real dating, or fucking, because everyone knows our Tyler is standout at the latter?”

Lainey laughs, genuinely amused. “He’s also standout at the former.”

That soon shuts up my uncouth uncle. It shuts up me too, actually. “He is, is he?” Uncle Reg gives me a questioning look, and I shrug. It’s news to me.

“Yes.” Lainey peeks at me out the corner of her eye. Is it pathetic that my chest has swelled with pride? “He’s quite a romantic.”

“Well, fuck me.” Reg slaps me from my daydreams with another solid smack to my shoulder. I grunt as I’m knocked off balance, and Uncle Reg chuckles. “Does this mean there could be another wedding on the cards?”

“Pipe down.” I laugh, though I don’t find his question in the least bit amusing. And I know Lainey won’t, either.

“Oh yeah, I forgot.” Reg laughs along with me, although his is candid amusement. “Once bitten and all that. If I was lucky enough for your aunt Audrey to fuck off and leave me, I wouldn’t get married again, either. Not that I’d ever allow her to leave me.” He visibly shudders, and I know why. His reaction isn’t because he dreads the thought of losing his wife. It’s because he dreads the thought of her taking his money with her. “Not with all my money,” he finishes, cementing my conclusion. “You know all about being taken to the cleaners, don’t ya, Ty? Do I need to hire security to keep you away from—”