“Lift.”
“Lift what? Tires? Cars?”
His smirk grew, and he chuckled slightly. “Feels like you’re hitting on me.”
“Just trying to get sex.”
He gave a quiet scoff. “You don’t have to try when it comes to me.”
I drank my wine and stared at him, this quiet, sexy man who’d become mine seemingly overnight. “Bastien and Fleur are nice…”
The smile went away. “Sorry about that.”
“Why?”
He gave a slight shake of his head but didn’t give an answer.
“I got the impression that you didn’t want them to meet me.” He’d told me Bastien was like a brother to him, but when he showed up at the same restaurant, Luca was borderline hostile. “Like you were embarrassed of me or something?—”
“No.” He straightened in the chair and gave me that hard look. “It’s not you.”
“It felt that way.”
“You’re right. I didn’t want them to meet you. But that’s got nothing to do with you.”
“How so?” I asked, trying not to feel wounded by what he said.
He took a breath and gave a drawn-out sigh. “I told you I’m not good at this shit. And I’m not good at it because I’ve never done it. I don’t want Bastien weighing in on my relationship—and I know he will.”
“You called him your brother, didn’t you?”
All he did was stare at me.
“That’s what brothers do. It’s annoying, but that’s how it is. I know you don’t have siblings, so you may not understand. I wish I had someone to talk to about you…” My sisters would lose their fucking minds at the sight of Luca. They’d want all the tea—size, girth, technique…
“Fleur doesn’t have any family either. All she had were her in-laws before she got divorced.”
“She was married before Bastien?”
He nodded. “I don’t think she’s been divorced for even a year yet. It happened quickly.”
“Whoa, that is quick. No judgment.”
“When you know, you know. At least, that’s what they say…”
I still didn’t understand why he didn’t want to share his relationship with me with the person he was closest to, but I didn’t want to press him. I didn’t want to compromise what we had. I decided not to take it personally.
There was a small knock on the door, and then Andre came in with his cart of food. He greeted me with a nod. “Miss Aliénor.” He’d never greeted me so formally, so I’d clearly moved up in status in this house.
He set the platters, silverware, and linens on the table before he removed the lids. He placed a jug of ice water in front of us then rolled his cart back out again, trying to disappear from Luca’s notice.
“Wow, this looks a lot better than what I made you.” It was a piece of steak and greens, along with a side bowl of fries and a cup of soup. There was also a basket of bread in the center. It smelled warm and fresh.
With his arms on the table, he dug into his meat and ate the way he did before, inhaling his food like he’d been starving all day. He didn’t make conversation while he ate, too focused on his meal.
I didn’t mind. I liked watching him eat. It was manly.
Minutes went by, and there was nothing but the scraping of our utensils against the plates. The occasional drink of booze or water. I grabbed a slice of bread and buttered it before I dipped it in my soup and took a bite. “Damn, this is good. I would never leave if I lived here.”
