King's Pleasure

“Can you believe this—me tying the knot?”

“Hell nah,” Jeremy answered honestly. “But a lot of brothers are dropping like flies into that matrimony trap. I’m starting to think that it’s something in the water.”

“Oh, that’s right. Your brother Eamon just walked the plank, didn’t he?”

“That he did,” Jeremy said, shaking his head. “I don’t know what the hell came over him. But it is what it is, I guess.”

Dylan bobbed his head. “Yeah, yeah. I think I read about it in the paper. He locked down some billionaire heiress or something. She’s quite the dime-piece, too, if I recall.” He laughed. “Talk about a brother upgrading.”

“C’mon, you know Eamon. Money is the last thing that turns his head.”

“True that. True that. Still, your brother won the wife sweepstakes, especially if she’s a dime and got a mint in the bank. A man can’t lock that down every day.”

“Says the man who’s about to marry the daughter of one of the most powerful men in Hollywood,” Jeremy responded. “Something tells me you finally got the financing for your next picture.”

Dylan tapped the side of his temple while his slick grin looked like it was about ready to slide right off his face. “Turns out I got lady luck on my side, too.”

Jeremy frowned. “So are you doing it for love or power?”

Dylan’s shoulders bobbed up and down. “I’m going to plead the fifth on that in case your ass is wearing a wire.”

“Oh, it’s like that.”

His shoulders bounced again.

“A’ight then, bro. You do you,” Jeremy said while his gut twisted in disgust. It wasn’t his place to lecture his friend and—more importantly—his client about how to enter into the sanctity of marriage. If it was one thing he knew, it was how to fall back and play his position, and that position in this drama was on the sidelines.

“Ooooh, Big Daaaaddy.” Twins, Brandi and Candi, flanked his sides and hit him with identical smiles.

“Laaadies,” he drawled, as a memory instantly rewound in his head. He certainly would be up for some two-on-one action tonight. “I didn’t know that you two knew my man Dylan.”

“Who?” They blinked.

Jeremy laughed. “The groom to-be—Dylan Freedman. This is his bachelor party.”

The girls giggled.

“Actually, we didn’t know whose party this was,” Brandi said. Her beauty mole was on the right, Jeremy remembered. “We were just hanging out on the beach when someone shouted that there was a party going on.”

Candi cut in. “You know us. We love crashing a good party.”

“Actually, I did know that.” He tossed them a playful wink before his gaze dived to check out the girls’ heavy silicone investments. As far as he was concerned, they were living up to be damn good investments.

“So what do you say about hooking up later?” Brandi inquired.

Jeremy hesitated. The girls were fun, but the sibling rivalry tended to get a little out of control. “I’m open. We can all hang loose and whatever happens, happens.”

He got two winks as they slapped him on the ass.

“We’ll be looking for you at the end of the night,” Brandi promised before taking her sister by the hand and leading her away.

Jeremy watched their booties jiggle away in matching sky-blue bikinis. Good thing I’m up on my B vitamins.

“I don’t know how you do it, man,” Dylan said. “Please tell me that when you die your family is donating your body to science. Your stamina should be bottled and sold on the stock market.”

“Get on with that, man.” Jeremy laughed, even though his ego inflated a few more inches.

The friends moved farther into the expansive house where the entire glass wall at the back of the house showcased an incredible view of the sun setting over the ocean. With summer’s longer days, dusk usually hit late in the evening.

Jeremy stopped for a second to take it all in. “I love this house.”

“You want to buy it?”

“You’re selling it?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah. Turns out that wives don’t like their husbands keeping bachelor pads.” Dylan shook his head. “Who knew?”

“You don’t say?” Jeremy chuckled, but he was seriously considering the offer. He loved L.A., and he loved Malibu even more. “Let me think on it and I’ll get back at you.”

“A’ight, but don’t leave me hanging too long. Malibu is still a hot market. It’s one of the main reasons why I wanted to have the party here. It’s a bachelor-and-farewell party all rolled up into one.” Dylan’s eyes grew misty. “I need a drink. Damn, I’m getting married!”

“Aah,” said Dave Killion, Dylan’s best man, who popped up like a jack-in-the-box with a tray of tequila shots. “You said the forbidden word. Drink!”

Dylan rolled his eyes as he reached for one of the shot glasses.

“What’s the forbidden word?” Jeremy asked.

“Married,” Dave answered. “Consider that your only warning.”

“Got it.” Jeremy gave him the thumbs-up and then watched as Dylan tossed back his shot.

“I still can’t believe that I’m losing this place,” Dylan moaned.

Jeremy struggled not to laugh. It was usually during the last twenty-four hours of bachelorhood that all the things brothers were truly giving up finally hit them. Losing the crib was one thing. Their only private space was about to be reduced to just a “man cave” in the basement—if they were lucky. He knew plenty of dudes who were still begging or negotiating to have even that. Their wardrobe would decrease to a quarter of the closet where they could own no more than three pairs of shoes—usually, two pairs for work and one pair of sneakers. God forbid if there wasn’t enough space for the entire department-store-size shoe collection that the missus was bringing to the table. Not to mention the guest pass to the feminized bathroom issued by the wife, where a stick of deodorant and one bottle of cologne that she’s selected resides in the medicine cabinet.

“Actually, I’m going to need some more liquor,” Dylan announced after Dave strolled off.

Jeremy followed him. “How’s it going, Robbie?” Jeremy shouted above the music.

The bartender glanced up and smiled. “Never better, Boss Man.”

Jeremy glanced over at the tip jar and saw that it was already full. “Looks like it’s going to be a good night.”

“It’s always a good night at Bachelor Adventures’s parties.” He winked after spouting the company line.

“Heeeeey, now, that’s what I’m talking about.” Jeremy gave Robbie the thumbs-up. “Hit me with a Heineken.”

“You got it.” Robbie turned toward the portable chiller and grabbed one of the green bottles. “Here you go,” he said, popping the top and setting it down on the bar.