Chapter Fifteen
I didn’t see him coming,
that sneaky, green-eyed monster.
~ Chloé
CHLOé STEPPED UP to the open door of the plane and took in the clear blue Parisian skies. It had been several months too long since she’d visit her père’s home country, and man did it feel good to be back.
“Ahhh. Mon premier amour, Paris. Mon deuxième chez-moi.”
She felt a hand on her lower back and glanced over her shoulder to see Zayne smiling down at her.
“I have no idea what you just said, but it sounded like you were talking to a lover.”
Chloé chuckled. “Close enough. I was just professing my undying love to the city.”
“Ah, gotcha.” He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “Well, don’t get too friendly—I might get jealous.”
The three of them exited the plane and climbed into the waiting SUV, and if she hadn’t just spent eight of the most amazing hours of her life in the air, she might’ve thought she’d fallen asleep and woken up exactly where they started.
“Do you have one of these cars and drivers everywhere you go?” she asked as she settled in between them.
When Ethan reached over to buckle her in, her tummy flipped.
It was amazing how something so small and simple could feel so good.
But just like Zayne before takeoff, Ethan was making sure she was safe and secure, and that made her heart beat a little faster.
“I like having a plan.” Ethan straightened in his seat and buckled his own belt. “This one just happens to include a car waiting for us, and Gilles, who is our driver.”
Zayne snorted. “In other words, he’s a control freak. But you already knew that.”
Chloé grinned and looked at Ethan shaking his head. “So…do you ever do anything without a plan?”
His eyes locked with hers and Chloé felt that stare through her entire body.
“You.” Ethan stroked his fingers through a wayward curl. “We definitely didn’t have a plan with you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, that first night we saw you, we planned to make you ours—”
“But then…” Zayne trailed his fingers over one of her gold bracelets. “White wristband happened, and that made Ethan very grumpy.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah,” Zayne whispered by her ear. “He wanted you, and when he couldn’t have you, he was not happy.”
Ethan looked past her to Zayne, his brow furrowed. “I was…perturbed.”
“Really pissed off, for us common folk.”
A burst of laughter escaped her, and Ethan glared at the two of them.
“What?” Zayne flashed an unrepentant grin. “You were.”
“I don’t deny it. Chloé was exactly what we were looking for, and when she was no longer an option, I was annoyed.”
“Pissed off.”
Ethan ignored that and turned his attention back to her. “Then there was your little identity switch to contend with. So, to answer your question: you, petite fille , are one of two things I’ve allowed myself to do without a plan. Zayne would be the other. If that tells you anything.”
That told her everything. Zayne was Ethan’s entire world. He loved him, respected him, and took care of him in ways she had only ever dreamed about. Their relationship was something she admired, something she craved, and something she hoped one day would include her…forever.
“Well,” she drawled. “Maybe while we’re here, Zayne and I can teach you to be a little more spontaneous.”
“I like your optimism, Red. But I don’t know.”
“Oh, come on. I bet we can get him to do something a little crazy.” She gave him a mischievous smile. “Even my papa, who you both know is a very serious man, loosens up when he comes to Paris. There’s just something in the water.”
“Champagne?” Zayne laughed, and Chloé joined in.
“Maybe, and the best part is, I don’t have to stop drinking it here.”
“That’s right,” Ethan said. “You’re legal here.”
“Mhmm.” Chloé waggled her brows. “In all the ways.”
As the car sped through the bustling streets and approached the legendary traffic hotspot the Arc De Triomphe, Chloé braced herself while twelve lanes of traffic converged.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Zayne white-knuckled the handrail over the window as their driver crossed several lanes to join the chaos on the congested road. They zipped by cars and weaved in and out between trucks and buses, and all the while Ethan sat calmly beside her as Zayne cursed under his breath.
When they finally exited, Zayne looked back over his shoulder at the insanity they’d somehow managed to survive. “You know, it’s bad enough when I end up on a roundabout back home. But that thing is the roundabout from hell.”
Ethan had a superior smile on his lips. “And that is why I hired a driver.”
“Smug bastard.”
The rest of the trip was fairly subdued compared to the excitement of the Arc. The drive, that was, not the sights.
As they got closer to the city, there were glimpses of the Eiffel Tower between buildings, and then they’d turn a corner and pass by something as grand as the Palais Garnier.
That was one of the main things Chloé loved about Paris—that around every corner you could stumble on another piece of history.
It was incredible, and she loved every part of it.
The SUV went down one of the long, straight boulevards the city was known for and came to a stop at the curb.
“This is us,” Ethan said.
She leaned across his lap, peered out the window, and saw the elegant carved stone facade of the building towering over them.
The quintessential wrought-iron balconies were on the second, third, and fourth floors, some with flower boxes hanging over the rail and others with cute little tables and chairs for that morning espresso.
It was beautiful, everything she imagined of an apartment in the city.
Zayne appeared by their door to open it. She hadn’t even realized he’d gotten out.
He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Welcome to Paris , monsieur and mademoiselle.”
Chloé laughed, loving his fake accent, following as Ethan climbed out of the vehicle. She kissed Zayne on both sides of the cheek—when in France and all—then inclined her head ever so slightly.
“Merci beaucoup. Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome. If it gets me two kisses, I might do it more often.” He held out his elbow for her. “Well, I don’t know about you, Red. But I’m ready to see our new home away from home.”
Ethan smiled and then unlocked the door before stepping aside and gesturing for them to enter.
“After you.”
* * *
ZAYNE HADN’T BEEN lying—he was ready to see this place. He’d looked at it online several times, and Ethan had shown him a video from his last visit around. But he’d never actually stood inside their new home—until today.
“One of the perks, I’m told, with this place,” Ethan said as they walked inside, “is that there are stairs leading up to all five levels, but…” He headed toward a black and gold wrought-iron door and pulled it open. “The last owner installed one of my favorite things in the world.”
“An elevator!” Chloé rushed over to him.
“You got it.”
“Ah, this is rare here. Our place has hundreds of stairs, but it doesn’t have one of these.” She stepped inside with Ethan, then waved Zayne over. “Come on. Or are you going to race us up?”
Zayne stopped by the stairwell, looked up at what seemed like a never-ending flight of stairs, and shook his head.
“Hell no. Especially not after what you two did to my body last night. Make some room.” He strolled into the small confines and winked at her. “Or don’t.”
She giggled and scooted over, and Ethan wrapped his arms around her.
“Ooh, I like this.”
Zayne pulled the door shut and hit the button. Then he moved in until Chloé was flush between them and gently kissed her on the lips. “I do too.”
He did the same with Ethan, enjoying the contact, and when the elevator stopped and the door slid open, all three of them looked out to a foyer full of grandeur and luxury.
“Oh. My. God.”
He couldn’t have said it better himself. The place was lavishly decorated and full of French charm. But he’d expected no less from Ethan. The Holt Estate was gorgeous too, a place that was well lived in and homey in its own way, but this ?
Zayne took a second to soak in the opulence, then looked at Ethan. I love you , Ethan mouthed, and reached for Zayne’s hand. The enormity of the moment took hold of Zayne.
This was their house.
The first they would share with Chloé from the very beginning.
“Wow. This place is…” Chloé turned. “It’s just perfect for you two, and so romantic.”
As she spun away, presumably to give them a moment, something in Ethan’s eyes softened. “She has no idea, does she?”
“That we’re no longer two, but three?” Zayne shook his head. “I don’t think so, no.”
“We’ll have to change that,” Ethan said. “So, do you love it?”
Love it? The place was like a palace. One a master would spoil his boy—or girl— with.
“How could I not?”
The smile that lit Ethan’s face was one that only came out on occasions. It was open, sincere, and vulnerable. There was no underlying emotion other than pleasure, and Zayne loved pulling it from him.
“Want to see more?”
Zayne nodded as Ethan led him into the living room.
It was a total showstopper, with doors opening out onto a balcony that overlooked the Eiffel Tower.
There was a large marble fireplace and leather sofa that was the perfect place to relax with a bottle of red, and the rug in front of the fireplace had Zayne thinking of naked, sweaty bodies intertwined.
He glanced around the space and landed on Chloé, who stood in front of a bookshelf full of hardbacks with her head cocked to the side as she trailed her fingers over the spines.
“Find anything good?”
She glanced at them, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. “Only everything. Did these come with the place?”
Ethan nodded. “The previous owner was something of an antiques collector. I negotiated some of the pieces with the sale. This collection was one of them.”
She pulled one of the books free and opened it up. “Ah, they’re in French! I was hoping.”
“What’s that one?” Zayne asked, and she flipped the page and turned it toward him.