Grady spent the next hour making polite conversation with Suzanne’s parents as they dined, which was a welcome distraction from persistent thoughts of just how good their daughter apparently was at giving blow jobs. He figured she’d said it just to get a reaction and, well…mission accomplished. Damn if he could think of much else.

Albie and Simone seemed like nice people but very sophisticated, and Grady was pleased to have had a life outside of Credence for a lot of years. Had he been more cloistered, their talk about art shows in London and Madrid and Florence might have made him feel like a hillbilly. They weren’t being deliberately intimidating, he knew that, but another man may have felt a little inadequate.

The good thing, though, about them living in their New York bubble was their propensity to talk about it and their life there, which he encouraged, peppering them with questions. Because while they were talking about New York, he didn’t have to talk about himself. Or the fake relationship he was having with their daughter.

Or think about how good she was at giving blow jobs.

Fuck. Dude, stop it!

But it was almost impossible to keep his mind fully on the conversation, especially when she was so damn touchy-feely throughout the meal. Nothing over-the-top, just constant. A hand on his forearm, her fingers straying to his and toying absently, leaning in close to nudge his shoulder with hers, her arm slung casually around the back of his chair.

Twice she’d slipped her hand under his arm, her knuckles grazing his ribs as she looped their arms together and smooshed her cheek against his shoulder. He’d actually dropped a kiss on her head the first time. He had no idea why he’d done it other than her parents were watching and it had felt natural.

Which was all kinds of fucked up.

“All righty, then.” Suzanne stood, and Grady started a little as she scooped up the plates. “It’s tree time.” She was heading for the kitchen by the time he’d dragged his mind from the gutter. “Josh has bought so many lights; just wait till you see them.”

Her parents’ gazes flicked to his sweater, then back to him. “Fabulous,” Simone said with a brightness that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Who’d like some eggnog?” Suzanne called from the kitchen.

“I will,” Simone called, her smile fixed. “Make it a large.”

“Mine too,” Albie added.

“Mine three,” Grady joked.

Albie and Simone weren’t the only ones who were going to need some help from eggs, rum, and nutmeg to get through this ordeal.