Finding Their Balance (18 page)

Stephen touched his subs as if the world beyond didn’t exist. All the time. Henry limited himself to touching Jay in guy-approved ways. Maybe Jay gravitated toward Henry in private to soak up attention he refused to request in public.

Henry switched to her other calf, and sadness washed through her as her muscles unknotted. Anyone paying attention for five seconds would see Claudia and Charlie were two people in love with Stephen and each other. But anyone looking at Henry and Jay? They’d see two men in love with the same woman.

“You’re fretting, my dear.”

“He needs to see he can be proud of himself for being yours outside the apartment.” Maybe Charlie would be a good example.

Staring out at the court, Henry paused his massage. “Yes, that too.”

She downed her drink, he finished the massage, and they settled in to watch the game. Jay and Claudia had pulled ahead. Stephen and Charlie huddled and hustled to catch up.

Lying on his side, Henry propped his head on one hand. The other lay on her bare stomach, her shirt nudged aside as he sketched sweeping arcs with his thumb. Lavishing on her all the possessiveness Jay shied from on a day out.

“I’m sorry, Henry.” She couldn’t leave it lie.

“Sorry for what?” Brow raised, he drew back.

“That you can’t touch Jay like this.” She waved toward the runners and Frisbee-tossers, the dog walkers and kid-wranglers. “Out here, I mean.”

“Ah.” He glanced at the court. “He isn’t ready for that.”

Jay missed a block, his jump a fraction of a second too early to stop Charlie’s shot.

“For now, it’s enough for him to know he has my rules to guide his behavior. He takes comfort in that.”

Stephen walloped Charlie with a hug and a kiss on his head. “Great shooting. Nice hop, little frog.”

Alice held back a sigh. “But you want more.”

“I always want more.” Henry claimed her mouth as a conqueror reveling in his spoils. “To own every last inch of you both.” His smile carried a distinct wolfish pleasure. “Lucky for me, I’m a patient man.”

* * * *

At dinner Thursday night, music blared. Jay hopped from his chair, froze, and turned toward Henry. “It’s Peggy’s ringtone.”

The name rang a dim bell.

“It’s all right. Go on and take your call, my boy.”

Jay raced to the hall table and snatched his phone.

Was Henry sick? No calls at dinner was practically a rule. Hell, it might be in Jay’s contract. The time belonged to the three of them to unwind and talk without interruptions.

“Exceptions to every rule,” Henry murmured.

Jay tilted sideways, almost perpendicular at his waist. “But you said Saturday lunch.” Palm flat and fingers spread, he tapped his thigh. “No, I know.” Rocking foot to foot, he fiddled with the charger cord. “I didn’t—I’m sorry, Peggy.” His head dropped until his chin grazed his chest. “I know you’re doing a bunch of work just for me. I don’t mean to be ungrateful.”

Jay, ungrateful?

Henry shared her frown.

“Who’s Peggy?” Aside from some liar who thought she had the right to make Jay feel guilty.

“Eldest sister. Something of a second mother.” Matching her whisper, Henry rapped the table twice. “He’ll lose this argument, I’m certain.”

“No, it’s not that—I can, but—no.” Mouth twisted, Jay glanced at the dining room. “Okay. I won’t. See you then.” He lined up the phone on the charging pad with Henry-level precision and dragged his feet on his return. “I’m sorry, Henry. I didn’t mean to interrupt dinner.”

“The phone interrupted dinner, my dear boy. You waited for permission, as you should.” Picking up his fork, Henry acted as if dinner would simply resume its normal course. “Have your weekend plans changed?”

Jay slumped into his seat. “Peggy says I need to show up earlier.”

“To what?” She hadn’t gotten an inkling of special plans, but Henry must’ve approved them already.

“Jay’s family is hosting a birthday celebration at their farm.” Henry laid his fork down with a slight
clink
. “I’d intended for us to discuss this after dinner.”

“We’re going out of town?” Last-minute trip surprises would take getting used to. Maybe Henry meant to test her trust, reinforce his control over the household. The cabin weekend had been amazing despite the lack of warning. Fantastic shower, lovely deck—fuck, no sexy thoughts when meeting Jay’s parents. “How early? I can’t cut out of work. We’re…”

Face reddening, Jay stared at his plate. Corner creases grew around Henry’s eyes and mouth.

Shit. She’d stepped in it this time. “I’m not going, am I.” Good enough for the fucking but not for the family. As cream sauce dripped from her fork tines, she forced a nod. “Okay.”

Her flat tone missed
okay
by a mile. Stupid and unfair, because no way did Jay think of her as a part-time fuckbuddy. If he’d suggested taking her home for Christmas six months ago, she’d have freaked. So what if the guys left her home? New puppies needed constant looking after. Not her.

“You’ll have plenty to keep you entertained, Alice.” With his low rumble, Henry coated her in soothing balm. “I don’t expect I’ll be going, either.”

Hold. The. Phone.

“Jay, when does your sister demand your presence?” If Jay leaving him behind upset Henry, he concealed his hurt behind a neutral front.

“In time for dinner.” Not a speck of birthday excitement infused Jay’s mumble. “Friday dinner.”

He’d miss Henry’s time with them. Excellent reason to pout like a kid denied dessert.

“Did you express to her that you’ll have to abbreviate your workday to arrive in time?” No, obviously. Henry had heard every word of his side of the conversation, same as she had.

Jay shook his head. “No, Henry.”

“Because you didn’t wish to inconvenience her?”

“She’s doing all the work—the cake and everything.” His tenor earnest and naïve, Jay shrugged. “I shouldn’t make things harder for her.”

Baking a cake. So much fucking work. Alice bit her lip.

“Are the inconveniences arriving early poses for you less important than those a Saturday lunch poses for your sister?” Henry hooked Jay on the sharp point beneath gentle inquiry.

Jay didn’t want to be away from them Friday night. He just hadn’t been able to put himself first, say “no,” and disappoint his sister.

“It’s all weekend.” He toyed with his napkin. “I’ll be back Sunday afternoon.”

Way to dodge the question. “And we’re not welcome.”

“I’m sorry, Alice.” Apologizing, Jay left lightspeed in the dust. “I’ve never brought anyone home before.”

The fuck? He’d taken Henry to meet his family. They’d been together for years.

“Not, you know”—Jay fumbled toward Henry—“someone special.”

Either Jay had stopped making sense, or her misfiring brain had ceased rational thought.

“I mean, not overnight.” Jay babbled under her stare. “Not with anybody knowing. I don’t talk about”—his crumpled napkin disappeared into his fist—“it.”

It.

His love life. His preferences. His lovers.

She struggled to breathe. Before Christmas, Henry’d said Jay’s family knew them as roommates. His meaning had bounced off her then. Jay made the truth real tonight. To his family, Henry wasn’t someone special in Jay’s life. She was likely nonexistent. An it.

But would she bring Henry and Jay home to South Dakota? God no. Not because her men made her ashamed, but because she’d end up ashamed of her parents. Dad would call her a whore, and Mom would pretend everything was fine.

“It’s okay, Jay. I was just…” Hurt. Angry. She refused to guilt him the way his sister had. “Surprised.”

Celebrating Jay’s birthday last weekend hadn’t been about the timing working out better for her or getting ahead of their sweetly impatient birthday boy. Henry had expected Jay’s family would take priority this weekend.

“Surprised, yes. Alice is correct. We’ll miss you, but your desire to visit family is understandable.” With years of experience cushioning the blow, Henry managed to sound unaffected. “I’ll be certain to assign homework to occupy you while you’re away, my dear boy. I’d hate for you to fall behind.”

“I’ll keep up, Henry.” Eager and smiling, Jay loosened his death-grip on his napkin and sat up straight. “I promise.”

She returned his smile to reassure him, but her twitchy nerves lingered. Territorial—clingy—had never described her in a relationship, and uncertainty pricked like a hedge of sticker bushes. If a right way to feel existed, what was it?

The bastard thorns insisted on staying the night. She slipped under the covers without even a mock squabble with Jay over who’d sleep in the middle. As he flopped beside her, her muscles tensed.

Playfully wrestling with him, Henry delivered a good-night kiss that ended in a smooth switch. Henry claimed the center, and Jay curled on his left.

She lay on her back, inches of distance a yawning chasm, eyes adjusting to the darkness. Henry’s silence weighed as if the ceiling cranked downward. Normally she’d welcome his keen insights and prods to share. But wanting to avoid hurting Jay left her with nothing to say.

Murmuring good night and nothing else, Henry blanketed her in relief. Right now, she needed to process. Alone.

She could leave. Take the bedroom they never treated as one. If being in this relationship hadn’t changed her beyond recognition, she’d sleep fine alone.

Long way to go to prove a point to herself.

Back to her lovers, she hugged the edge of the bed and lay awake as night passed into morning.

* * * *

Jay’s empty seat at the dinner table Friday drew Alice’s eyes more often than it should. By the time she’d finished work, he’d already gone. She should be enjoying her time with Henry. In the eleven months since she’d started seeing—fucking—her men, she’d spent only two nights alone with him.

On those nights, she hadn’t felt abandoned. Unwanted. What the hell was wrong with her? Jay was with his family, not cruising to meet other women. Knowing her attitude wronged him made her feel worse. Ashamed.

“Alice.” Watching her for the last hour, Henry hadn’t challenged her silence. “It’s after seven o’clock. Have you finished your supper?”

She’d choked down four bites. Five, maybe. Didn’t matter. “Yes, Henry.”

“Then tell me your safeword, please.”

“Pistachio.” The ritual lacked Jay’s infectious excitement, their doubled anticipation, the conspiratorial glee of sharing Henry’s attention.

“When will you use your safeword, my dear?”

“When I want to stop,” she whispered. She and Jay heightened and reinforced each other’s arousal. Being without him made her incomplete. “For any reason.”

Why didn’t they have a word that stopped important things? If they had, Jay wouldn’t have submitted to his sister’s demands and left them.

“Do you promise to use your safeword if that time comes, Alice? Lift your head and look at me when you answer, please.” Face unreadable, Henry stared at her with those perceptive green eyes.

Her breath caught in her chest. “I promise, Henry.”

“Thank you.” Surveying the table, Henry stopped on her plate.

He’d require her to eat more, have her clear, and—

“Go to the bedroom and undress.” His tenderness disappeared under pure command. “Lie on your stomach on the bed and wait for me.”

Fumbling, she pushed the chair back and stood. “You’re sure you don’t want—”

“I’m certain I’ve told you what I want from you, sweet girl.”

After a quick detour to the bathroom, she stripped off her clothes, lay on the bed, and steeped in her own nudity. Air wafted across her back. Cool silk sheets cradled her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. The linens retained the faint scent of Henry—and Jay. Breathing deep, she chased the tenuous connection.

Loneliness answered her, the bed empty and her with it.

Henry filled the door frame.

Her heart thudded for his broad shoulders and narrower hips, for his forbidding stare and his strong hands.

He entered in silence and passed behind her. His clothes rustled, faint clues to his movements. The shirt, button by button. The belt with its buckle. Pants. Socks. Underwear.

The mattress sank in slow waves rolling up from her toes. He added his weight to hers, their bodies electrical fields rubbing edges and generating heat. Settling astride her hips, he rested atop her ass. His hands landed on her shoulders.

She sparked hot as a live wire. Christ, how had she functioned all day with shoulders so tight? No wonder sore and empty formed the sum total of her emotional battery.

Henry balanced his palms inches from her head. “You’re upset with Jay, sweet girl.”

Not sweet. An utter bitch pissed at her lover because what, he couldn’t tell his sister no? Worried about them meeting his family? A selfish, immature bitch. “That obvious, huh?”

Warm and tender, Henry blanketed her back. “You’re making yourself tense. Tell me what you feel. Say the words aloud.”

“I’m—” The sheets offered a comforting hollow for her face.

“Alice. Don’t hide from me or yourself.”

“Rejected.” The word burned and scratched her throat. “Like he doesn’t love us.” Her eyes itched. “I know I’m stupid to think that, and he loves us, and I’m being a bitch.” A chill rattled deep in her chest, beyond his reach. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Henry.”

Lips pressed to the nape of her neck, he hummed a low, soothing melody while he warmed her with his breath. Minutes slipped by as she inhaled in deep gulps.

“This isn’t something you’ve allowed yourself to feel before, is it, dearest?” Henry rumbled, his voice as much vibrating against her back as in her ear. “You’ve avoided deep emotional ties with your sexual partners. You hoped, perhaps, you might avoid this moment—this pain when you feel one has wronged you.”

“I know Jay didn’t wrong me, Henry. I get it.” Christ, if he’d let her put the whole damn attitude behind her, she could focus on trying to enjoy the night without Jay.

“Nonsense. You know no such thing.”

“I kn—what?” Where was Henry’s vigorous defense of Jay? His chiding for her unkindness and distance?

Forearm flexing, Henry levered himself up. “What you know is that you are here, and he is not.” Seated across her thighs, he massaged her back and sides, his kneading heavy and deep. “And what you feel, perhaps, is that you are a shameful secret.”