Chapter 54

It would be fair to say Yann's family owned the biggest inn in town. It would also be fair to say they owned the only inn in town. Yann's great-to-the-nth grandfather bought a small house next to the small house he lived in and rented it to travelers. Every successive generation had bought another attached piece of property. They were a whole clan of real estate assholes. Just my kind of people.

They let nine of the thirteen buildings by the room or house and by the day or week. The whole property was on a small cliff right on the pink sand beach that was Brittany's claim to fame.

The boys had known more about this trip than I did and, in honor of our location, the color of the day was pink. Yann and the twins looked a little fem, but Ivan and Sean somehow managed to be dead butch.

Yann's family was friendly enough. Most of his siblings spoke English, although his parents did not. Yann introduced us as his employer and co-workers.

They all looked the boys over disapprovingly. Seven guys, dressed in pink, all of them looking easy-access fuckable. I saw his brother and sister exchange a look with their mother. There was an exchange of French - and then an exchange in another language. Yann was clearly in the middle of it.

Then, suddenly, another sister jumped up. "Ok! Let's get you all settled into your rooms, oui?" She gestured to a pair of young ones. "Anton, Bridgette, take their bags."

"Hey, no problem." Ivan ruffled the kid's hair. "We can take our own." But there was enough for everyone to take something as we trouped out.

"Yannik only booked two rooms, but I think we have others free for the night." The sister said. "Let's go to the office and -"

"Two rooms are fine." I cut her off. "Thanks."

She stopped walking and looked at us. She seemed to take in the way the boys were dressed. She called the kids and told them something in the language I didn't recognize.

"Aw! But Marie -" they started, but the look she gave them did not need translation. They put the bags down and headed back in the direction from which we came, pouting.

When they were well out of earshot, Marie turned that look on me. "What does my brother do for you, Mesiour Jons?"

"I hired him to do household maintenance. You know the sort of thing - plumbing, electrical, yard work." I glanced at the twins. "Although, one of those two is taking over the grounds keeping."

"Yes." "I am."

"Do you two ever not finish each other's thoughts?" Juan teased.

"Pinch one." Ivan suggested. "I bet the other will yell."

"What do you do for Mesouir Jons?" Marie asked him, still eyeing me rather suspiciously.

"Me? I'm his chief. This is my assistant." He dropped his arm around Zane's shoulders. "You should let us cook for you tonight."

"I'm his administrative assistant." Juan said before she could ask. "This is our computer programmer and he's our housekeeper."

I looked up at that. "Housekeeper?"

Juan shrugged. "We don't need full-time interior design and now Ivan can concentrate on the kitchen." Made sense to me.

"What do you do, M. Jons, that you need so many staff?" Marie continued to glare at me. "And that they all dress so ... frankly."

"I'm retired."

"Boss!" Yann ran over to us. "Boss, I am so sorry! I was hoping that Mom would just keep her damn mouth shut for once."

"You look like a stripper." Marie commented. "What do you do for this man?"

"I wear a dress and fuck him in public places!" Yann snapped. "Happy?"

Marie was not happy. Marie launched into what had to be a tirade of angry ranting.

Yann shook his head. "Come on. We're in house four - so Ivan won't wake anyone." He picked up a bag and began walking away from his stunned sister.

"Some people look like sluts, some people sound like them." Ivan replied casually, following.

"Some people have a little decorum." Juan rolled his eyes. "Marie," the woman's mouth was still open. "Trust me, it will all make sense later." He put his arm around her waist and pulled her forward. "Tell me about the pink beach."