My mom calls me that sometimes, but from her mouth, the term of endearment makes my dick twitch. Fuck, what is that about?
Before I even have a chance to knock, the door swings open. As if on cue, Millie grabs my left hand and threads her fingers through mine, the warmth of her palm instantly bringing me comfort. She’s already nailing this fake marriage thing.
“Ezra, my man,” my dad booms. His voice is as big as he is. He’s about my height and strong, but with a hard extra layer packed around his muscles from years of drinking. He pulls me in for a hug, but I refuse to let go of Millie, so we end up locked in an awkward half embrace, with her being pulled alongside me.
“This must be your wife.”
“Yes.” I clear my throat. “This is Mil?—”
“Come,” he interrupts, guiding us into the house.
I’m gearing up to call him out for being rude, but the words are stolen the moment I catch sight of a tall, lanky blond boy standing in the middle of the living area.
“This is Kane,” Dad says, his tone flat.
Fuck. I’ve seen him introduce his car with more spunk.
The urge to embrace Kane is pretty powerful, but worried I’ll freak him out if I get too touchy-feely, I settle on offering my hand instead.
“Hey, I’m Ezra. It’s really great to meet you.”
As he reciprocates the gesture, a small yet genuine grin paints his adolescent face. “Yeah, hi. Nice to meet you.”
We stare at one another, silent, until Millie tugs on my arm. “Oh, right. This is my wife…” I clear my throat. “Millie.”
Releasing my grip, she steps forward and embraces Kane with zero hesitation.
“Your name’s MillieMiller?” my dad guffaws beside us.
Millie pulls back from my brother, her wide, panicked eyes immediately locking on mine.
Shit. We went over so many details but clearly did not think through the last name part.
“She, uh,” I stammer. “I, uh… I took her last name.”Shoot, what’s Millie’s last name again?Oh, yeah. “Greer.”
My dad shakes his head, his lip curled up on one side. “The woman’s supposed to take the man’s last name, son.”
My gut twists. Fuck. We’ve been here three minutes, and he’s already acting like a chauvinistic asshole. I don’t know why I’m surprised.
“Why?” Millie challenges, chin lifted high.
Normally a woman who speaks up is a total turn-on, but dread coils in my chest as I assess her because I’m worried about what may come out of my dad’s mouth next.
“Why? Because he’sthe man, that’s why.” His tone isn’t rude when he says this; he really believes it.
But judging by Millie’s expression, she’s about to belt out Taylor Swift’s “The Man” in the middle of this living room.
“That makes absolutely no sense.” She huffs. “What if two men—or two women—married each other? What then?”
“That’s funny. You’re funny.” He turns to me, absolutely not catching on that this is no laughing matter. “Your wife’s funny.”
Millie’s jaw drops, and she takes a step forward, but I wrap an arm around her waist and sweep her in close before she can loseit on him. It’s a total man move, but Kane looks wildly uncomfortable, and this is not how I want introductions to go.
“Let’s talk later,” I whisper in her ear.
She sighs but otherwise stays quiet.
When she doesn’t fight to be released, I turn to Kane. “How do you like Oahu?”
