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Tristan removed his glasses and patted the air calmly. “I apologize. Occasionally I forget that my bluntness is not usually received well. However, I was involved in the drawing up of the surrogacy contract, so you could say that I have some interest in the success or failure of the arrangement. Suffice to say I am pleased that you and Pierce have come to mutually enjoy the contract.”
“Apology accepted,” I muttered. Tristan regarded me with those blue-gray eyes for a moment longer, nodded slightly, and then returned to whatever was occupying his attention on the tablet.
His mention of the contract reminded me of another detail that I had forgotten about in all the helicopter sex excitement. When I had pointed out the loophole in the contract, Pierce replied that it was by design. What did that even mean? How could such a huge oversight be by design?
There were two explanations that I could think of. Either Pierce was downplaying the situation in order to cover up the embarrassment of the loophole, or he had misheard me. The helicopter rotors were still spinning down at the time, so maybe he thought I had said something else. Not to mention the fact that he had the freaking President of Costa Rica waiting for him. He was rushed.
And, perhaps, he was still lightheaded from the mind-blowing sex. Even I had to admit that was probably a cocky assumption, but it was still a possibility: that I had fucked Pierce Benning so thoroughly that he couldn’t think straight.
I chuckled to myself again, which drew another look from Tristan.
“What are we laughing about this morning?” Pierce said as he strode onto the terrace. He wore baggy Italian pants and a blue linen shirt unbuttoned all the way down the front, revealing a sliver of his tan chest. Images from last night flashed into my attention, and I had to consciously push them down.
“We’re laughing about Tristan’s choice in coffee,” I replied.
“Oh, God. Don’t get him started.”
“Too late,” both Tristan and I muttered at the same time. He shared a smile with me briefly, then turned back to his tablet.
Instead of sitting at the head of the outdoor table, Pierce pulled the chair over next to me and kissed me on the cheek. “Don’t listen to him. A ristretto is just an espresso dialed up to eleven.”
“You will not push my buttons this morning,” Tristan muttered.
“But it’s so easy.” Pierce put his arm across the back of my chair and gently caressed my arm. “Sorry for abandoning you last night.”
A kiss on the cheek and affectionate touching, I thought. Maybe last night felt like a first date to him, too. That wasn’t a bad thing, I supposed.
“If it were anyone else, I would’ve been offended. But the President of the country we’re in? You weren’t abandoning me at all. Did the meeting go well?”
A servant arrived with my breakfast and Pierce’s. He thanked the man, then told me, “The meeting was unnecessary. Rodrigo got wind of all the meetings I was orchestrating here and assumed, correctly, that I was preparing for my next business venture. He claimed he wanted to offer his help. It was a waste of time.”
“No meeting that strengthens relationships is a waste of time,” Tristan said. It sounded like he was quoting someone.
“I hate it when you use my words against me,” Pierce said. “But it was obvious that Rodrigo had no real interest in helping me. He just wanted information on what I’m working on.”
I took a bite of bacon and asked, “What are you working on?”
Pierce laughed. “She lasted longer than you expected. What did you guess, five days?”
“Four, actually,” Tristan replied.
“I was the one who guessed five days,” Andrew said while joining us at the table. He flashed a warm, boyish smile. “Although I’m glad to be wrong.”
“Happy to exceed your expectations,” I replied. After a few moments, I added, “Seriously, though. What’s the next big thing?”
Pierce finished a bite of eggs, wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin, then put it down. “Do you mind if I’m straightforward with you?”
“I appreciate bluntness, most of the time,” I said slowly.
“I talk about business all day. Everyone I meet, everyone I interact with, grills me about what’s next. What am I working on. Where’s the next direction I’m turning my attention. It wears me down, Melinda. I know you and I have an unorthodox relationship, but if it’s okay with you, could we not talk business? Last night was so refreshing because I could just be myself without all of that baggage.”
“Absolutely,” I said, putting a hand on his thigh. “I’m sorry for asking.”
“No apology needed!” he replied cheerfully. “I was being blunt for the sake of simplicity, not because I was upset.”
Relieved, I returned to my breakfast.
“What plans do you have today?” Pierce asked me.
