YOU WON’T BELIEVE HOW THE ‘MELROSE PLACE’ HEARTTHROB LOOKS AT 62 – HIS GRAY BEARD WILL SHOCK YOU

A former “Melrose Place” star has surprised fans with new photos showing him with a gray beard and noticeable wrinkles. At 62, the actor, who was once a TV heartthrob, is now embracing the natural aging process. His recent look has gotten a lot of attention online, with many fans admiring his rugged, mature appearance.

This ’90s TV star was known for his good looks and charm. Fans have watched him grow over the years, but his latest transformation has caught them off guard.

From his early days on television to his current status as a silver-haired star, this actor’s journey is more fascinating than it seems.

The Rise of a TV Heartthrob

Born in Detroit and raised in northern California, the actor’s journey to fame wasn’t always glamorous. His mother, Kathleen, worked as a systems analyst. Despite her demanding job with early mornings and long hours, she made sure to teach her children the value of education and hard work. Her dedication laid the groundwork for the actor’s future success.

In 1984, by his early 20s, the actor got his big break when he landed the role of Rick Hyde on the daytime soap opera *Ryan’s Hope*. He played this role until 1987, earning an Emmy nomination and setting the stage for his future in entertainment.

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The following year, he landed another role as Gregory Prince III in an episode of *ABC Afterschool Specials*. This teen drama series often tackled social issues of the day.

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This role made him a major TV star and turned him into a heartthrob of the ’90s. His portrayal of a tough, motorcycle-riding contractor won over many fans and made him one of the most recognizable faces on television.

As time has passed, the actor has grown from a youthful heartthrob into a mature figure in Hollywood. The days of the clean-shaven, charming Jake Hanson are long gone.

Unlike some actors who try to fight aging, this actor has fully embraced it. Now, he sports a full gray beard and natural wrinkles, giving him a distinguished look that shows his life experience and wisdom.

His recent photos have stirred a lot of attention online. Fans have reacted with admiration, praising his natural and elegant appearance on social media.

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People were surprised and impressed when they saw his recent photos. One person on Instagram said, “He sure is a handsome man,” and another shared their love for “Dynasty,” saying, “How obsessed I am with ‘Dynasty’ and you all.”

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Fans noted how his charm has lasted over the years. One commented, “Most handsome man in Hollywood. I watched you on ‘Melrose Place’ and kept watching because of you. You were very attractive then, and you still are. You’ve aged gracefully.”

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Another fan simply said, “Handsome man, omg.” On X (formerly Twitter), a user expressed their amazement, writing, “So Grant Show is 62 years old and still looks like this?!???”

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Comments like “Grant looks stunning with a gray beard” and “He has aged gracefully” show that people appreciate how he has embraced aging naturally and feel it has only enhanced his appeal.

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Six months later, they met again in Vancouver, and this time their bond grew stronger. They started as friends, and after about eight weeks of dating in Los Angeles, they became a couple.

A year later, they got engaged and had a one-month engagement before marrying in a rustic California ceremony on August 18, 2012. Besides acting, LaNasa is a former ballet dancer and choreographer.

She had a successful Hollywood career with roles in movies like “Alfie” (2004), “Valentine’s Day” (2010), and “The Campaign” (2012). On TV, she starred in the NBC sitcom “Three Sisters” (2001) and the drama series “Deception” (2012) as the glamorous socialite Sophia Bowers.

Their relationship quickly became a significant part of his life. The actor often talks about LaNasa with great love. She once compared her to his caring grandmother, Blanche, who played a key role in his upbringing.

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Got it! If you have any more details or need anything else, feel free to let me know.

In 2013, almost a year after they got married, the actor and his wife were trying to start a family. He mentioned, “We are working on it — practice, practice, practice.” They knew it might be a bit tricky because of their age, but they were determined to make it happen.

Despite his character Spence Westmore on “Devious Maids” dealing with romantic issues, the actor joked that they were keeping their marriage exciting both inside and outside the bedroom.

He said that they did everything together, from playing golf to shopping, and highlighted how important it was to keep the romance alive in their relationship.

Their efforts paid off when they had a baby girl, Eloise McCue Show, in March 2014. They were thrilled and said, “We are truly blessed to have such a healthy and beautiful baby girl.”

The actor, producer, and director has continued to work while balancing his family life. His most recent role was as Blake Carrington on the TV show “Dynasty,” which aired from 2017 to 2022.

At 62, he still cherishes his past role. He recently reunited with his former “Melrose Place” co-stars — Daphne Zuniga, Laura Leighton, and Courtney Thorne-Smith — to look back on their time together on the show.

The reunion took place on the “Still The Place” podcast, where the former “Melrose Place” stars looked back at their time on the show. They shared cherished memories, talked about how “Melrose Place” affected their lives, and reminisced about the strong connections they built while working together.

The actor talked about how playing Jake Hanson made him famous and helped him make lifelong friends. He and his former co-stars shared laughs and fond memories, showing how strong their bond was from their time on and off the “Melrose Place” set.

My MIL Turned My Bathroom Into a Spa Using All My Stuff So I Planned the Perfect Revenge 

I came home to find my MIL soaking in my tub, using my candlelight, my gel, and my towel. That’s when I knew — she hadn’t moved in. She’d taken over. So I smiled… and got creative.

I liked our life.

I really, really did.

There was something deeply satisfying about the way our apartment smelled like vanilla and order. The way the sun hit the kitchen counter at exactly 4 PM.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

The gentle silence after work — no one talking, no TV blaring, just me and the soothing gurgle of my espresso machine. Our space was calm. Predictable. Mine.

Then husband, Daniel walked into the laundry room with that cautious look husbands get when they know they’re about to ruin your day.

I was pulling socks from the dryer, feeling rather proud of my folding technique, when he cleared his throat.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Babe… We need to take in my mom for a few days.”

I paused, holding one of his socks.

“She okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. But her building had a pipe burst. Whole apartment’s soaked. Just a week. Maybe less.”

A week.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I nodded. What else could I do? I wasn’t heartless.

“I’ll survive,” I muttered.

He kissed my cheek.

“You’re the best.”

Turns out, I overestimated myself.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

By day two, our apartment was unrecognizable. And not in a “cute makeover” kind of way.

My framed photos — gone. Just gone. Replaced with my MIL’s Linda sepia-toned portraits of her.

And with her first husband (Daniel’s dad, may he rest in peace). And her friend Carol from the hospital.

And a photo of a Chihuahua I’m 90% sure had been dead since the Clinton administration.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

And the smell. It hit you every time you walked into a room.

I found reed diffusers in the bathroom, little perfume balls on my vanity, and even a small pouch of potpourri in my underwear drawer. My underwear drawer.

Still, I didn’t say anything.

Linda was a guest. Until that night.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I walked into the bathroom and saw her standing there, rubbing something into her décolletage.

It was MY precious, outrageously expensive, only-on-special-occasions, shipped-from-New-York-like-royalty cream.

“Oh, Emily! This cream! It’s divine. Where did you get it?”

My jaw made a noise but no words followed.

“It’s like silk!” she continued, squeezing out more. “You have such amazing taste.”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

She didn’t ask. She didn’t pause. She just helped herself.

I smiled. Nodded. Said nothing.

This is still tolerable. Barely. As long as she doesn’t cross the line.

***

The following day was brutal. Emails, phone calls, two back-to-back meetings, and a passive-aggressive lunch with my manager.

I just wanted peace at home. A shower. Ten minutes of being alone in my skin. I slipped off my shoes, turned on the kettle, and… froze.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Singing. High-pitched, cheerful, and distinctly coming from the direction of our bedroom. I followed the sound. The door to our ensuite bathroom was cracked open. A thick curl of steam escaped into the hallway.

The scent hit me instantly — sweet, lush, unmistakably familiar. MY passionfruit bath gel. I pushed the door open, and there she was.

Linda. In MY tub!

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Reclining like she was in a commercial. Surrounded by candles, MY candles. Steam rising dramatically as if the universe was mocking me. She had MY bath brush, MY scrub, and MY purple towel folded nearby like a personal butler had placed it there.

“Emily!” she squealed, completely unbothered. “I thought you were asleep already!”

I just stood there.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Linda… this is our private bathroom.”

She waved a hand through the steam like she was shooing a fly.

“Oh, come on. We’re both women. You’re not using it right now, and this tub is perfect. Yours is so much nicer than the guest one.”

She picked up MY rose scrub like we were about to have a spa night together.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I didn’t think you’d mind. We girls share everything, right?”

I turned. Walked out.

That evening, I told Daniel — calmly. He slurped his soup and shrugged.

“She probably just needed a moment to herself. You know how she is. Besides, don’t women… do that? Share stuff?”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I stared at him. Long and hard.

“You think this is normal?”

“It’s not not normal.”

I got up, went to the drawer, and found the old key to our bedroom. I had never used it before — but seemed like the time. Or so I thought.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Because the following morning, I realized…

Locks mean nothing when the intruder has already decided she owns the place.

***

It was supposed to be my Saturday. My one day. No emails, no meetings, no small talk.

Just me, a yoga mat, lemon water, and my favorite playlist humming soft Tibetan bells. And finally — finally — felt like I could exhale.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Until I heard it. Loud laughter. Music. Something clinked downstairs. Then footsteps — multiple — in heels.

No. No, no, no. Not today.

I grabbed my hoodie and padded down the stairs, barefoot and still slightly zen. But the moment I turned the corner into the living room, all chakra alignment vanished.

It looked like a senior prom with a dash of bingo night.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

There were at least six people — four older women in glittery tops and way-too-bold lipstick, two silver-haired gentlemen in suspenders sipping wine, and at the center of it all…

Linda! Waltzing.

With a tray of cheese cubes and mini crackers.

And what is she wearing? MY blouse.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The one I bought three weeks ago to wear to my best friend’s birthday — silky, deep blue, low-cut but elegant.

I hadn’t even taken the tags off until the day before when I gently steamed it and hung it in the hall closet so it wouldn’t wrinkle. I felt my soul briefly leave my body.

“Emily, darling!” Linda beamed, spinning with a giggle. “We started without you! Come, meet everyone!”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I stood frozen. Hair a mess, and barefoot, in my yoga top. One of the older gentlemen approached me with a charming bow.

“Care for a dance, my lady?”

Before I could respond, he took my hand and spun me once, twice, and I awkwardly stumbled right into a sequin-covered bosom.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The woman he came with gave me a look that could curdle milk.

“Linda, honey… And who is this? What’s she doing in your house?”

My house?

I pulled away gently and marched Linda into the kitchen, still gripping the lemon water bottle like a weapon.

“What is this?” I hissed.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“A party! Just a little something to lift the spirits. You weren’t using the living room anyway!”

“In my blouse? In my house?”

She gave me a look — sweet, almost maternal.

“I told them it was my home. Just to… you know, avoid questions. They wouldn’t have come if I’d said I was staying with my son and his wife. I just wanted to feel like a hostess again.”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“And the blouse?”

“It was just hanging there. I thought, why not?”

“Everyone out. Now.”

She tilted her head.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Oh Emily, don’t be dramatic. What will Daniel say? Kicking his poor mother out after she’s had such a rough time?”

Her voice turned syrupy.

“He’ll be so disappointed.”

I stared at her. And smiled.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Fine. They can stay.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely,” I said, almost amused. “Make yourselves at home.”

Her face lit up with confusion and something that looked a lot like triumph.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

But inside me, something very different lit up.

Because if Linda thought she knew how to be petty… She hadn’t seen me take the tour group of silver-haired gentlemen through Daniel’s office yet.

Let’s just say…

Some people explore museums. I let them explore our home.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

With subtle suggestions and open doors.

And Linda?

She was about to find out what it felt like when someone touched what was mine.

***

The following morning began with a familiar, delicious tension in the air. Like the final act of a play where only I had read the script. Daniel’s voice cracked through the quiet,

“Emily! Why is my cologne bottle empty?!”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I gently stirred my coffee, not even turning around.

“The brown one?” I asked sweetly.

He appeared in the kitchen doorway, holding the bottle as it had personally betrayed him.

“This was nearly full! Now it’s bone dry. What happened?”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I squinted thoughtfully.

“Oh. That might’ve been Thomas?”

“Thomas?”

“One of your mother’s gentlemen friends. He said the scent reminded him of his wilder days in Paris. He may have… gone a little overboard.”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Daniel just stood there, blinking.

“He used my cologne?”

“He seemed really enthusiastic.”

Daniel turned without another word and stormed to the bedroom. I took a sip of coffee. Calm. Serene. Focused.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Thirty seconds later, his shout echoed through the hall.

“My ties collection! One of my tie pins is bent! Who’s been in my tie drawer?!”

“Oh no,” I said, very gently. “Maybe the gentlemen got curious. You know, your collection impressed them.”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

He looked at me like I had just told him I microwaved his record player.

And then, right on cue, Linda swept into the kitchen in a satin robe, holding a grapefruit half and smiling.

“Morning, sweeties! Isn’t the air just delicious today?”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Daniel rounded on her.

“Mom. Did your guests go through my stuff?”

“Oh, sweetheart, of course not. They’re perfectly respectful!”

“I’m going to work. I’ll deal with this tonight.”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, I’ll walk you to the door,” I said sweetly. “You seem a bit… rattled.”

As he slipped on his coat, he turned to me slowly.

“You didn’t take the car out yesterday, right?”

I widened my eyes.

“Me? No. I thought about getting it washed, but I was too tired. I left the keys on the hallway shelf.”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Pause.

“Oh no. Oh no. They were admiring the car yesterday. Your mother’s friends…”

Daniel walked out in silence. Two seconds later, I heard a sharp yell from the driveway. I didn’t even flinch.

“What happened, honey?” I called sweetly from the doorway.

“Did you… did you drive it?”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“No, darling! Like I told you. Keys were on the shelf. I was upstairs. Doing yoga.”

Daniel looked past me, jaw tight. Then he turned to Linda.

“Mom?”

She looked cornered for the first time in days.

“Well… they were admiring the vehicle and… your wife let us…”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Emily?” Daniel cut in.

I met his eyes.

“I never left the attic floor, love. Downward Dog was very demanding.”

Silence. Daniel shook his head and rushed out.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

By noon, my husband was folding Linda’s cardigans like he was preparing an offering to a volcano god. He drove her to her apartment, and tipped the contractors extra to “wrap it up the next few days.”

Meanwhile, I had a small talk with Linda.

“Oh, Linda,” I called sweetly. “By the way… while you and the girls were sunbathing by the pool yesterday, I gave the gentlemen a proper tour of the house. You inspired me — it felt good to let others experience things that aren’t technically theirs.”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

When Daniel returned, he dropped onto the couch and stared blankly into space, like a man who had just survived both a war and a bake sale led by his enemies.

I let him rest. Only once he was upstairs, did I allow myself a smirk.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I could still see them in my head — those silver-haired explorers. Touching the marble paperweight on Daniel’s desk. Opening drawers they thought were just decorative. One of them even asked, “Is this vintage Armani?” while holding up a tie like it was on auction.

I said nothing. Just smiled.

Linda was lounging in her robe by the pool, sipping wine and boasting about her imaginary art collection. And me? I was planting breadcrumbs all over the house. Letting her friends wander. Letting them wonder.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Of course, it wasn’t Thomas who used the cologne.

I sprayed half the bottle myself and left it uncapped.

No one scratched the car — well, not no one. I may have gently, artistically brushed it against the mailbox.

And the bent tie pin? Gloves on. Very respectful.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

That night, I ran the perfect bath with my passionfruit gel, lit my vanilla candle, and dropped my robe onto the warm floor tiles like a queen shedding armor.

The house was silent.

And somewhere in the distance, I imagined Linda staring at her beige apartment walls, wondering what exactly had just happened.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Because when a woman touches your cream, your tub — it’s not about the things. It’s about the line she crossed.

And darling, once she crosses it — you don’t lecture. You don’t scream. You win.

And finally, with every breath of peace, I could hear the house itself whisper back to me.

Welcome home.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: At 75, I thought my quiet life was set in stone until a five-year-old orphan looked at me like I was her only hope. That’s when everything unraveled at home. Read the full story here.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only.

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