“I know what those sounds mean when you’re with a partner,” Max shot back with a frown. “You think I can’t read a woman’s responses? I’ve just never heard sounds like that made about bacon.”
“It’s damn good bacon.”
I came out of my little smallgoods reverie to find all three of them watching me closely, Lucien reaching for more bacon and putting it on my plate.
“I can get my own,” I said with a slight frown, yet couldn’t bring myself to put it back.
“I know you can,” he replied, his voice dropping an octave. His eyes met mine, and I saw the silver begin to bleed back, right before he jerked himself to his feet. “I’m going to go back for more, because that shit is good.”
I watched him go for just a second, because damn, that arse encased in those jeans was a thing worth storing away in my mental spank bank to play with later. Then I went back to my breakfast, working my way through the plate while looking on my phone at the calendars Max had sent me.
“The whole sir thing,” Beau said. I glanced up. “You don’t have to call us that. Some other arseholes might insist, but not us.”
“Of course,” I replied. “I’ll use whatever you’re comfortable with. First name or Mr…?”
“I mean you can.” Beau stared at me across the table, his lips twitching. “If you want to. None of us are going to stop you.”
By the time Lucien returned with a plate brimming with bacon, the mood around the table had shifted. Both of his brothers stared at me, waiting for a response, something that had him frowning slightly as he looked at each of them.
“Of course…sir,” I said, then turned back to my food and my phone, feeling like I’d just waved a red rag in front of a bull and not sure how.
“Perhaps I should sit—”I started to say as we stood in the aisle of the plane.
“Here.” Lucien jerked a thumb at the seat I’d been assigned, right next to the window. Next to him.
“You could sit with me,” Max offered. They were on the other side of the aisle in the crazy spacious seats of business class. “It’d be good to start talking about the logistics of the symposium. I didn’t get far with Crystal.”
Both men snorted at that, but a stewardess approached us, particularly as we were holding up a bunch of other passengers wanting to get on the plane.
“Is everything OK?” she asked brightly, a professional smile on her face, one that lost a little of its brilliance when she saw Beau, her eyes widening.
“Just trying to work out seating arrangements,” Beau replied smoothly, bestowing upon her a megawatt smile.
“Oh, well, I’ll need you to sit in your assigned seats for takeoff,” she replied, looking actually apologetic as she delivered the news.
“I’ll sit in the aisle seat. Max, you sit on the other side, and we can talk across the aisle if we need to,” I said, then plopped myself down in my seat.
Oh damnn. The additional leg space, the sizeable gap between my seat and the one in front of me, the plush leather seat… Flying economy the next time I could afford to go away would kill me.
“That sound again,” Beau said, staring down at me. “Interesting.” Then he turned to his brother. “C’mon, Maxie, you’re stuck with me.”
“Just don’t get a blow job from the air hostess again,” Max replied, putting his computer on the small desk-like protuberance between the seats. “It makes things super awkward.”
Beau laughed then, but it sounded a little high, his smile a little frantic as he eyed me, then the much more curious air hostess. He sat down though, like a good little boy, peering past his brother at us.
Which left Lucien.
I went to get up to let him through unhampered, but he just brushed past. Despite tucking my feet under me and pushing my body back into my seat, all of a sudden, my field of vision was filled with a broad chest and a tight pair of jeans that seemed to lovingly cup a bulge that—
I jerked my eyes down to my phone, sucking in one breath, then another, even if it brought wave after wave of amber scent into my lungs.
We’d be at a meeting about an hour after we landed, walking through the convention centre and getting a feel for the venue, then another lunch meeting with one of the big participants to ensure they were still attending… Lucien’s chuckle broke through my admittedly frantic focus on the day ahead, the seats shifting slightly as he settled into his, then looked across at me. I glanced up to see his eyes were on me, his lips parting as he was about to say something, when a voice came over the PA system, announcing who the pilot was and that we were due to arrive in Sydney in a little under two hours.
We strapped ourselves in, stowed all of our carry-on bags, and settled back in our seats as the plane began to taxi.
Or at least I did.
A big, masculine hand slapped down on the small bench between us, the knuckles going white as soon as the plane began to move. I watched Lucien grip it like his life depended on it, like somehow, it would get him through this.