Chapter 3
“Hey, Carson, wake up!” Hunter said.
“Leave me alone,” Carson mumbled, pushing at the hand shaking him. Rolling over on his back, he threw his arm over his eyes, trying to block out the bright light on the other side of his eyelids.
“Why is he sleeping out here?” asked Fionn, looking at Carson. “Why isn’t he in his bedroom?”
“I don’t know, pet,” Hunter replied, “but from the looks of it, I’d say he was working late.”
“Maybe you should let him sleep.”
“No can do. Paul says breakfast is ready…besides, we’ll be landing in Paris in less than an hour. By the looks of my cousin, he needs a shower and shave before he meets anyone.”
As the voices intruded on Carson’s attempt to snooze, he realized his cousin had a point.
No matter how much his body craved sleep, he knew it wasn’t going to happen—at least not then.
Sitting up, he groaned at the stiffness in his neck before turning his head from side to side.
Then, opening his eyes, he stared crossly at his cousin and Fionn.
“To answer your question, I fell asleep out here because I couldn’t fall asleep in my bedroom. ”
“That’s too bad,” Fionn said. “Did the movement of the plane get to you?”
Carson opened his mouth to snap back a sharp retort but abruptly closed it when he caught Hunter’s eye. Shaking his head, he closed his laptop, slipped it into his bag, and turned to Paul who’d just arrived with their breakfast. “I’ve got to take a quick shower.”
“No problem, sir,” replied Paul. “I’ll keep it hot for you. ”
“Thanks,” Carson said, giving him a smile before standing.
Then, brushing past Hunter and Fionn, he made his way to the bedroom he’d been forced to abandon early that morning.
Setting his bag down on the bed, he grabbed his toiletry bag and headed for the bathroom.
Turning on the hot water, he hoped it would help get the kinks out of his body, put there by a too-short love seat.
A sigh of pleasure escaped from his lips as the pulsating water went to work on his muscles.
Placing his hands on the shower wall, Carson leaned forward, letting his head hang down as he closed his eyes.
Exhaustion filled his body; the need to sleep was overwhelming.
This must be what Colton was talking about… I bet I’m suffering from jet lag.
Trying to remember what he was supposed to do to get rid of it was more than his mind could handle and he dozed off only to be jerked awake when his head thumped against the shower wall.
Shit! Quickly righting himself, Carson squeezed some shower gel into his hand before soaping up his body.
Looking down at his groin, he snorted. No signs of life there .
Grasping his cock, he slid his soapy hand down it, giving it a tug and twist before sliding it back up.
A dead duck . Grimacing, he gave up, rinsing off before climbing out and drying off.
Wrapping a towel around his waist, Carson stepped over to the sink and, when he got a good look at himself in the mirror—bleary eyes, unshaven face, tiredness clearly reflected in his face—it had him hustling to the bedroom for his phone.
There was no way he could meet with anyone today, especially the man who was his contact.
Sending a text to Colton back at the pack house, he hoped his brother was on the night shift at the hospital.
Staring at the screen, Carson waited for a reply, biting his lower lip.
When it came back, he cursed. His brother advised him to do the one thing he couldn’t do today—get some sleep.
“Carson,” Hunter called through the door. “Paul said we’ll be landing in thirty minutes. Are you gonna eat breakfast?”
Fuck! “I’ll be right out,” Carson answered.
Rushing back to the bathroom, he gave up on shaving and quickly brushed his teeth before stowing everything back in his toiletry bag and carrying it to the bedroom.
After slipping on the clothes he’d picked out the night before, he repacked his bag before heading back to the main cabin.
The jet was descending and it was now too late to eat anything.
Inwardly sighing at the mess his morning was becoming, he could feel his anxiety rising.
It was a holdover from his childhood and the only way to manage it was to make sure there were no surprises—which is why he spent so much time planning out his days.
Frowning, Carson knew others tagged him as boring, or worse, a stick-in-the-mud and, if he was honest with himself, they were probably right.
The only time he could let loose was when he was with Cody and Colton.
Then he could hand the reins over to his brothers, knowing he was safe, but even that had risks, as he found out.
In the end, Carson chose paths that minimized surprises, content to let his brothers take the more unpredictable ones.
“Hey, do you want to stop to eat before we head to the chateau?” Hunter asked him.
“You don’t mind?” Maybe if he had some food, it would help him stay awake.
“Nope,” Hunter replied. “Frankly, we have no idea if there’s food where we’re going. We might have to do some shopping. ”
“Did you ask Mr. Marchant…Remy?”
“According to Penn, this Marchant guy only manages the businesses. Before we left, Fionn called the chateau but no one answered.”
“I’d be glad to stop for breakfast. Maybe you can find out what’s going on at the chateau when Remy picks us up.”
“It’s worth a shot,” Hunter agreed. “At least he might be able to tell us a good place to eat in Paris.”
Carson’s stomach growled just then. Smiling at his cousin, he said, “Yeah, but from what Dakota told me, there isn’t any bad place to eat there.”
~/~/~/~/~
Once on the tarmac, Carson saw a man with silver hair standing next to a black SUV parked near the hanger.
Giving him a brief nod, he then turned to Paul who was standing near the stairs.
“Thanks, Paul. Great flight.” Then Carson waited for Fionn and Hunter, chuckling when he saw his cousin come down the boarding stairs with his mate slung over his shoulder.
“Hey Paul, thanks for everything,” Hunter said as he passed the steward.
“My pleasure, sir.”
“Nice seeing you again,” Fionn said, giggling, as he lifted his head and gave Paul a short wave.
Raising an eyebrow, Carson smirked. “Is this a French thing?”
“Nope,” Hunter grinned. “This is what happens when my mate loses a bet.”
“That’s not true,” Fionn said, emphatically. “I did exactly what you said. It’s not my fault your instructions weren’t clear. ”
“Right.” Hunter punctuated his comment with a swat to Fionn’s ass.
“What was the bet?” asked Carson. “Never mind. If it had anything to do with what was going on last night, I don’t need to know.” Pointing over to the waiting car, said, “I think our ride is here.”
Glancing to where his cousin pointed, Hunter murmured, “That’s Remy? From what Penn said, I thought he was younger.”
“Put me down,” Fionn demanded, wriggling as he tried to twist around to see who his mate was talking about.
Hunter set Fionn down, keeping him close to him. Until he found out for sure who the man was, Hunter wasn’t taking any chances about his mate’s safety.
“Ohhh, a silver fox!” Fionn exclaimed.
Taking a discrete sniff, Carson chuckled, “In more ways than one.”
“Pet, stop staring,” Hunter growled, looking sideways at Fionn.
“Why? Kieran always says he’s ‘taken but not blind.’ The silver fox is yummy,” Fionn giggled. “Maybe he’d be perfect for Quin…you know…older, but so sexy…I can just picture Quin running his fingers through those silver strands, licking his ears while rubbing up against him.”
A low, long growl erupted from Hunter’s chest.
“Ahhh…Fionn,” Carson muttered, keeping his eyes on his cousin, “a piece of advice… stop drooling over the guy and please stop talking about your mate’s youngest brother that way. ”
Looking at his mate, Fionn snorted when he saw Hunter’s reaction.
“Mate, pull back your claws and fangs before you scare the man…I’m just looking and trust me, I’m not interested.
I have you, the best mate in the world. Quin is my new brother, too, and wants a mate so I’m just trying to help him…
like he did you. Now, let’s go meet Remy…
and hopefully, he’ll know a good place where we can get something to eat. ”
“Fionn, you better let me go first so Hunter can get himself under control,” Carson said.
Staring at Hunter, Fionn grinned. “Yeah, go ahead. My mate needs something from me first.”
Smirking at the sexual word play, Carson walked over to Remy. Extending his hand, he said, “Remy? It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Non, I’m Henri, sir. Mr. Marchant sent me to pick you up,” he said, quickly shaking Carson’s hand. “I believe he was detained, sir.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Remy said he was going to meet me here,” Carson replied as he heard his travel mates behind him, added, “Henri, this is Fionn MacDùghlas, and his mate Hunter Evans. Guys, this is Henri…Remy was delayed and sent Henri to meet us.”
Staring at Fionn, Henri gave a short bow before saying, “It is an honor to meet you, Mr. MacDùghlas.”
“Hi Henri, you just call me Fionn. Mr. MacDùghlas just reminds me of my father.”
Giving a brief nod of acknowledgement, Henri waited until they’d all climbed into the SUV before lifting the rear door and stowing their luggage inside. Then he slid behind the steering wheel and started the engine—all without saying another word .
Carson glanced at Fionn who shrugged, and then over to his cousin who looked puzzled about Henri’s change of attitude.
Thinking over what had just transpired, Carson concluded Henri’s demeanor changed after he was introduced to Fionn.
Perplexed, a slight frown creased Carson’s forehead as he tried to figure out why—and if he was going to run into that with all of Fionn’s employees.
Deciding to wait until he met Remy before jumping to conclusions, he asked, “Henri, can you recommend a place in Paris where we can stop for something to eat?”
“Certainly, sir,” Henri replied, his voice as stiff as his posture. “Do you prefer a French breakfast or an American one?”
“Definitely American,” Fionn replied.
Nodding in response, Henri said nothing else.
Carson inwardly groaned, then, ignoring Henri, asked Fionn, “How often have you been to France?”
“Only once before,” Fionn answered, his voice dropping almost to a whisper as Hunter pulled him tight against his side.
Holy shit! I did it again! It was obvious from Fionn’s tone that his previous visit to France held no happy memories.
Carson wondered if something happened on that trip to cause Henri’s sudden coolness.
Making a mental note to ask Colton about it, he fell silent, unwilling to stick his foot in his mouth again.
Instead, he turned, looking out the window at the passing scenery.
By the time the SUV stopped, Carson had fallen in love—with Paris.
Quickly caught up in its spell, everything held his attention on the ride through the heart of the city as he soaked in the ambience unique to it.
He had a sudden desire to spend some time exploring it, from the quaint neighborhoods, to the Eiffel Tower, to the beckoning shops and cafés lining its streets; the city had taken root deep in his soul.
Promising himself to come back once his job was completed, Carson opened his car door and climbed out.
Turning around, he saw the name of the restaurant, chuckling, since it described him perfectly.
After extending an invitation to Henri to join them, which was refused, Carson followed Hunter and Fionn into American in Paris , his stomach growling as the aroma of eggs, bacon, sausages, home fries and pancakes filled his nose.
Once seated, he looked around, curious if he’d see only Americans there, but he grinned when he heard a myriad of languages being spoken around him.
Turning his attention to the menu, happiness filled his heart and Carson knew his decision to leave California was the right one.
~/~/~/~/~
Absorbed in his work, Remy almost didn’t hear his phone ring, but his habitual worry about something happening to his brothers had him grabbing it in time.
Answering the call, he expected to hear Mrs. B’s voice but instead it was Henri.
“Hi, is everything all right? Did they arrive?” Remy asked, leaning back in his chair.
“Oui,” Henri answered. “I picked up the three of them and dropped them off at American in Paris because they wanted to eat first. I am waiting for them outside.”
Remy zeroed in on the one thing that could affect him—the third unknown person. “You said there were three? Who came with the representative and MacDùghlas’ son?”
“Mr. MacDùghlas’ mate, Hunter Evans. He’s a wolf, sir,” replied Henri .
Remy was silent. A mate? The son had a mate? Was it a Fated Mate? And a wolf? Who ever heard of a dragon mating with a wolf?
“I thought you should know, sir,” Henri said.
“Dammit! Of course. Thanks,” Remy muttered.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! How come I didn’t know the son was mated?
Artur never said a word about it…of course, he never did talk about his son.
Only a passing comment he overheard Artur’s brother make alerted him to that fact.
And when he questioned Artur later about it, he got the distinct impression the son was a major pain-in-the-ass—which was why he was overjoyed when he learned Fionn MacDùghlas was selling his father’s businesses.
He wouldn’t have to deal with the son and he’d have a chance to persuade Dire Enterprises to keep him on the payroll while the transition occurred.
Fuck! I thought there might be other reps from Dire Enterprises …
but now, a mate to deal with? Sonofabitch!
“Sir…sir? Are you there?” asked Henri. “Is there anything you want me to do while I am here?”
“Non,” Remy replied, quickly thinking over his options, “just send me a message when you leave.”
“Oui,” Henri agreed, before hanging up.
Slowly setting his phone down on his desk, Remy thought about what he just found out and concluded it was not turning out to be something to help him buy more time before he’d have to uproot his brothers and move. Fuck, fuck, fuck!