Chapter Twenty-Three
Sierra
T he jet's stairs had been lowered, and at the top stood Jax and Adrian, the huge men both grinning like children on Christmas morning. Jax wore designer sunglasses and gold rings, his unbuttoned suit making him look like he'd stepped off a runway rather than preparing for a flight.
Beside him, Adrian bounced on his heels, waving enthusiastically when he spotted us. He was in a green-cropped top that showed off all of his inked skin and made his green eyes stand out.
“Bee!” Adrian called, using the nickname I guess they'd given me after noticing the embroidered bees on my favorite cardigan.
“You brought the cat!”
I couldn't help the smile at his enthusiasm. Even with his slightly terrifying muscles and height, Adrian was always friendly and made me feel welcome.
“Don't encourage him,” Connor muttered as we approached the stairs. “He'll have the cat flying the plane if you're not careful.”
“Heard that!” Adrian called down, not looking remotely offended. “ And for your information, I've already planned a photoshoot with the cat in the cockpit. The pilot was happy to oblige.” He made an exaggerated beckoning motion.
Jax rolled his eyes, pushing his sunglasses up to rest on his blond hair. “Ignore him. He's been mainlining energy drinks since noon.” His gaze shifted to me, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Looking cute, bee. Boston's not ready for you.”
Connor's hand tightened almost imperceptibly over my back as we entered the cabin. I'd grown used to his protective instincts, but the way Jax and Adrian's eyes scanned the space before relaxing told me they shared Connor's vigilance.
“Down boy,” Jax drawled, noticing Connor's reaction. “I'm complimenting your girl, not stealing her.” He stepped aside to let us enter the cabin, adding in a stage whisper, “Though if you need a break from the caveman routine, I have a beach house with an excellent view.”
“And a revolving door for women,” Adrian added helpfully, earning an unapologetic smirk from Jax.
The interior of the jet was exactly as I remembered from my brief tour before Connor's Vegas fight—all brown leather and polished wood, more resembling a luxury apartment than transportation.
The main cabin featured eight oversized seats that could recline into beds, a small conference table, and a bar stocked with what I assumed was top-shelf liquor. Beyond that, they told me there was a private bathroom and separate quarters for the staff.
“Welcome aboard, Sierra.” The coach emerged from the front of the cabin, his face creasing into a smile. Unlike the others, he dressed practically in WBC-branded sweats, a tablet tucked under one arm. “Good to have you joining us this time.”
“Thank you for having me,” I replied, suddenly self-conscious in my leggings and pullover. Everyone else, even Adrian in his designer jeans and high-thread-count cropped top, looked so polished, so at home in this world of private jets and luxury.
Connor must have sensed my discomfort because he squeezed my hand reassuringly before helping me wiggle off Toffee's carrier.
“Let's get him settled before takeoff,” he suggested, leading me to one of the plush leather seats. He unzipped the carrier carefully, allowing Toffee to emerge at his own pace.
He stepped out cautiously, whiskers twitching as he surveyed his new domain. After some consideration, he deemed the jet acceptable and proceeded to stretch before hopping onto the nearest seat and claiming it as his own.
“Toffee,” I laughed, relieved by his easy adjustment. “Five seconds, and he already thinks he owns the place.”
“He’s a smart cat,” Jax commented, dropping into the seat across from us. “Always act like you belong, even when you think you don't." He winked at me, the gesture somehow both playful and brotherly. “First rule of surviving in our world.”
“Second rule,” Adrian interjected, sprawling in the window seat beside Jax, “is never fly without snacks. He reached into his carry-on and pulled out a colorful package. "Which is why I brought you this.” He tossed the package to me lightly—a jasmine tea, just as Connor had mentioned.
“You brought it,” I said, genuinely touched by the gesture. They’d thought of me even when I wasn’t around. Me.
Adrian beamed and then leaned forward conspiratorially. “And for your information, this isn't just any tea. It's a rare Pu-erh from Yunnan. Aged for 25 years.”
Could tea even age? I had no idea.
“Thought we could try it during takeoff,” he suggested, his tone making it clear this was more than just a casual offer, and I probably couldn’t say no. “It's supposed to have calming properties.”
As we settled further into our seats, meaning Connor sat me sideways on his lap in front of everyone, a stewardess appeared with a cart laden with an assortment of pastries and snacks, similar to the one from the Vegas trip .
“Anything catch your eye, sweet girl?” Connor asked, his gaze warm as he watched me survey the offerings.
I selected a sticky bear claw, the nutty scent making my mouth water. “This looks good.”
Connor nodded approvingly, his hand resting possessively on my thigh. “Good girl. You’re doing so good.”
He was praising me for my entire handling of the situation, and it made butterflies flutter in my stomach.
As the stewardess prepared Adrian's tea, I noticed the way Jax and Adrian positioned themselves.
Jax stared at the cabin door, and Adrian had a clear view of the strip by the window.
Their relaxed demeanors didn't quite mask the alertness in their eyes, almost like it was a silent promise of protection that extended beyond just Connor.
“So, bee,” Jax drawled, his tone casual but his eyes sharp, “First time seeing our boy fight in person. Nervous?”
I sipped Adrian's tea, its rich, earthy flavor spreading across my tongue. “A little,” I admitted. “But mostly excited.”
Adrian leaned forward, his presence hulking even in the spacious cabin. “You should be. It's a spectacle.” His eyes met Connor's over my head, something passing between them. “But don't worry. We'll make sure you're well taken care of.”
The promise in his words wasn't lost on me, though I couldn't quite decipher it. As the jet began to taxi, Connor's arm wrapped around my shoulders, almost like he was my seatbelt.
I never expected to feel so safe and comfortable surrounded by such big, powerful men, especially ones with so much raw power. But here I was, more comfortable than I’ve ever been.
Toffee stood, abandoning his claimed seat and leaping gracefully into Adrian's lap, startling a laugh out of him.
“Well, hello there,” Adrian cooed, immediately adjusting his posture to accommodate the cat. He was comically gentle as he stroked Toffee's fur. “Decided to join the conversation, have you?”
“He likes you,” I observed, surprised. Toffee was usually wary around new people, especially… louder people like Adrian .
“Animals always do,” Connor said, a hint of grudging admiration in his voice. “It's his superpower. That and remembering the plot of every fucking romance novel ever written.”
I blinked, recalling the signing that had changed my life forever.
Adrian didn't look remotely embarrassed. If anything, he seemed pleased that the subject had come up. “Dark romance, primarily," he clarified, scratching behind Toffee's whiskers with expert precision. “Though I've been branching into paranormal lately. Vampires are having a moment.”
The jet lifted off smoothly, the ground falling away beneath us, but I barely noticed, too fascinated by this unexpected revelation. "You really read romance novels?”
“Religiously,” Jax confirmed with an eye roll. “He's got a whole bookshelf color-coded by trope. Enemies-to-lovers is the red section, I believe?”
“Burgundy,” Adrian corrected, sounding almost offended. “Red is for the kinky shit. Get it right, man.” He turned his attention back to me, his expression earnest despite the teasing.
“What about you, bee? Any favorite tropes? I'm guessing you're a friends-to-lovers girl, but I could be wrong.”
I felt Connor's curious gaze on me, realizing he probably didn't know this about me either.
“Actually,” I admitted shyly, “I like the grumpy-sunshine trope. Where one character is all doom and gloom, and the other is relentlessly optimistic.” My ears were practically burning.
The cabin fell silent for a terrifying beat before Jax burst into laughter, slapping his thigh with undisguised glee. “Oh, that's rich,” he managed between chuckles. “Grumpy-sunshine. Wonder why that appeals to you?”
I felt my cheeks heat now as I realized the obvious parallel to my relationship with Connor, who was now glaring at his friends with the promise of future retribution in his dark eyes.
“I think it's perfect,” Adrian declared, ignoring Connor's death stare. "The classics are classics for a reason." He shifted Toffee to a more comfortable position, the cat now purring loudly enough to be heard over the jet engines.
“Have you read the new release by Aloe Vera? It’s the pinnacle of the grumpy-sunshine dynamic, in my humble opinion.”
“Three times," I confessed, delighted to discuss my favorite hobby. My heart was thumping in my chest now, but more from excitement than nervousness.
“Yes!” Adrian's entire face lit up, his usual demeanor fully relaxed with enthusiasm. “And then she?—”
“If you two are going to discuss fictional people kissing, I'm going to need a drink,” Jax interrupted, signaling to the stewardess. “Scotch, neat. And whatever our resident book club needs to continue this fascinating conversation."
The stewardess appeared remarkably fast, serving Jax his scotch and refilling my teacup with the hot water and warm cream she'd kept ready.
The coach had excused himself to review fight footage in the rear cabin a while ago, leaving the four of us—five, counting Toffee—in the main seating area.
“Bee,” Jax said once his drink was in hand, his tone casual but his eyes sharp with interest. “Connor tells us you're quite the expert on children's literature. Any recommendations for a five-year-old who thinks books are for eating rather than reading?”
I stared at him, surprised by the question. “You have a five-year-old?” I hadn’t heard anything about an Easton baby in the news.
“Niece,” he clarified, a softness entering his expression that I hadn't seen before. “Avery. Smart and sassy but convinced that books are inferior to tablets. I'm trying to correct this grievous error in her education.”
The image of Jax, playboy extraordinaire, with his designer clothes and perpetual smirk, carefully selecting children's books for his niece was so unexpectedly endearing.
“Actually,” I said, quickly warming to the subject, “there are some interactive books that might bridge the gap between digital and print. They have a lot of tabs to pull and things to play with.”
Jax pulled out his phone, typing the information with surprising focus. “Anything else?”
For the next twenty minutes, I happily recommended children's books while the Easton heir himself took meticulous notes, asking thoughtful questions about reading levels and themes.
Adrian occasionally chimed in with his own suggestions, still absently petting Toffee, who had fallen asleep in his lap.
Connor watched the exchange with a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, his fingers tracing over my thigh through my leggings.
“What is it?” I asked him quietly when Jax and Adrian became engrossed in a debate about the merits of picture books.
“Nothing,” Connor murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I just like seeing you like this. Relaxed. In your element.”
I leaned into him, suddenly aware that the takeoff anxiety I'd been dreading had completely bypassed me, distracted by the unexpected literary discussion.
Adrian's tea had grown cold in my cup, but it had served its purpose nonetheless—or perhaps the calming effect had more to do with the company than the beverage.
“Oh, bee, you've got to hear about Connor's first professional fight,” Jax said with a mischievous glint in his eye. “It's a classic.”
Connor groaned, shooting Jax a warning look. “We don't need to unearth ancient history.”
“Oh, but we do,” Adrian chimed in, leaning forward mischievously. “See, Connor here was used to... let's say, a different style of fighting before he went pro."
I raised an eyebrow, curious despite Connor's obvious reluctance. “Different, how?”
Jax picked up the story, giving Adrian a wide-eyed look. “The rules were a bit more flexible in his early days. So, when he stepped into the ring for his first official bout, he was facing this guy who'd been training in proper boxing technique for years.”
“The bell rang,” Adrian continued, "and Connor came out swinging like he was in a bar brawl. No stance, no guard, just raw aggression.”
“His opponent was completely thrown off," Jax added. “Didn't know what to make of this wild man charging at him. But then Connor tried to tackle the guy.”
My eyes widened. “Tackle him? In a boxing match?” Even I knew that was weird.
Connor sighed, resigned to the story being told. “I got caught up in the moment.” He was grumbling now.
“Caught up is an understatement,” Adrian laughed. “He full-on football tackled this poor guy to the canvas. The ref was stunned, the crowd was going wild, and Connor was just sitting on top of his opponent, looking around like he was waiting for someone to tap out.”
“The best part,” Jax snickered, biting back his cackling, “was that he won the fight. His opponent was so rattled by the whole thing that when they stood them up, Connor managed to land a lucky haymaker and knock him out.”
“But not before getting a stern lecture from the ref and nearly getting disqualified,” Adrian finished. “I think he spent the next month doing nothing but footwork drills and learning actual boxing rules.”
Connor shook his head, but I could see the hint of a smile playing at his lips. “In my defense, it was effective.”
“Effective at making you look like a complete madman, maybe,” Jax teased. “But hey, you won.”
I couldn't help but laugh at the mental image of Connor, always so controlled and disciplined now, tackling an opponent like an overeager football player. It was a side of him I never would have imagined, and it made me wonder what other surprises his past might hold.