by Cari Quinn
Dinner was a lively affair and for once, he didn’t mind that he didn’t do the cooking. Would he have done things a little differently? Sure. Did it matter in the end? Absolutely not. Kennedy’s first Thanksgiving as a hostess was a success.
After dinner, Hunter dragged Kennedy out the back with the dogs to run off some energy and the food they’d consumed while Tristan and Noah tackled the dishes. The monotonous scrubbing centered his brain. It felt weird to be without Jules and Rand. The three of them had separated for the holidays to see their respective families. Well, his version of family anyway.
So why the hell did he already miss them?
Before he’d gotten involved with Juliet and Sparks, holidays didn’t mean much more than work and a bit of extra harassment with traffic. Even now, it shouldn’t be weighing on his mind. They were just good, clean fun—well, maybe not clean.
Tristan swallowed at the memory of Jules kneeling at his feet with her lips puffy and abused from sucking him off. He gripped the sink edge. Yeah, definitely not what he should be thinking about right now.
The back door opened and the stampede started. Tristan was pretty sure Hunter had copped a feel or two, based on the color of Kenny’s cheeks when they came back in.
“Are they like this all the time?” he asked Noah.
“Sickeningly so. Why I’m glad I work across the country.”
Tristan snorted.
Hunter crossed to the kitchen. “Look at that. Chef boy remembered how to play busboy.”
“Fuck off.” Tristan tossed the dish towel onto the sparkling clean island. “You’re lucky I didn’t make you do this with me. Sticking me with the job so you could go make out with your wife. For shame, dickhead.”
“She smells prettier.”
Noah rocked back on his heels. “My brother’s got you there, Eves.”
Not better than his woman smelled. Tristan grasped the edge of the island countertop. Where the fuck had that thought come from? Sure, Jules smelled amazing, but her plum and spice scent wasn’t that original.
Right, asshole.
A look passed between Noah and Hunter. There was a small nod from Noah before he headed back into the living room.
“All right, what’s going on?”
Tristan frowned. “Did you just handle me via your brother?”
Hunter shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Christ, you really did turn into one of those smug married people I see in the restaurant.”
“Yeah, well, you’re acting just like me, buddy. Pining after a lady? Who’s the lucky three-night-stand?”
Tristan forced his fingers to relax on the granite countertop. Nothing about Jules was in the three-night-stand category. Hell, he wished she did fit in those parameters. His life would be infinitely more simple.
As it was, he didn’t know if he could really say who he was seeing—even if he couldn’t define the relationship—but did he want to? Saying it out loud made it real. When they were in his loft, there was just them and skin. A combined focus with Randy to count the screams that rose out of Juliet’s talented throat. How did he share that with anyone?
Hey, I’m not into my best friend, but we like to share Juliet Reece.
Oh yeah, and I’m fucking terrified that I want more than just sex.
Yeah. How the hell was he supposed to voice any of that?
“I can see it on your face, Tris. What’s going on?”
He shook his head. “There’s a woman. I can’t say much more than that because of the situation, but there’s definitely a girl. And no, she’s not married. Get that thought out of your head right now, son.”
Hunter raised his hands. “I didn’t say anything.”
“It’s not that—exactly.”
Hunter rested his hip against the counter. “That doesn’t sound complicated at all.”
Tristan raked his fingers through his overlong hair. “I’m getting hung up on her. I can feel it. It’s not smart in any way, but I’m having a damn hard time picturing my place without her.” Admitting it took what they had from a fantasy to reality. When he was in the moment, or when he was alone in his loft, it was easy to ignore the specifics.
But here, trying to define her—define them—was impossible. God, there wasn’t a word for it.
Ménage worked for the physical part, but the idea of a triad-based relationship in the real world wasn’t so easy. Especially when two parts of their threesome worked on the road more than eighty percent of the time, at least during a tour.
“Your place?” Hunter’s voice was incredulous. “Have you ever let a woman borrow a T-shirt for more than an hour?”
Tristan’s jaw ached from clenching his teeth to keep from saying something rude. But shit, how could he deny Hunter's insinuation? It was sterling truth. “It’s complicated."
Hunter leaned on the island, his hands splaying out as he stared intently at Tristan. “It’s only as complicated as you want it to be. I remember having the same problem.”
Tristan blew out a breath. “I think I beat you on complications this time.”
“Is she worth it?”
Were they worth it? That was the million-dollar question.
And he was even more reluctant to ask Jules and Randy where he fit in their world.
If he fit.
Twenty-Two
“Okay, what’s going on with you?” Randy’s sister, Harper, demanded.
Randy glanced down at the loaf of fresh bread he’d picked up at a fancy bakery and sighed. When your sister was a rockstar chef and caterer, it was hard to decide what to bring to dinner.
Usually, he went with wine. This time, Harp had requested bread because she was behind and just this once, she and her family could consume store bought.
Now he was thinking skipping the wine was a mistake. Maybe he just should’ve gone with a six-pack.
Mostly for him.
“Seriously?” He juggled the bread and the bag of stuff he had for Lex. “Can’t I even get inside before the inquisition begins?”
“What inquisition? I’m just a worried older sister, as is my right since you tried to eat the cord to the plugged-in iron when you were two. Come here, you big jerk.” She hauled him in for a hug that belied her small size.
Harper was a whirlwind, and having a kid and a career and a hubby with a crazy, non-traditional job had just emphasized how many plates she could balance without faltering.
They’d always been pretty close, and more so since they often found themselves working together since he’d picked up an Oblivion circuit or two in his time. He admired the hell out of her, and luckily, he also liked her husband. Deacon was a decent dude and a good father and he loved his wife and kid without reserve. As far as things went, Randy didn’t think he could ask for more from Harp’s spouse. They were pretty much living the dream.
Even if his sister had claimed to not care that much about getting married or having kids. Falling in love changed a lot of things, he supposed.
Not that he knew anything about that.
Liar.
“I might’ve tried to eat the cord, but obviously, I’ve learned my lesson about electrical and fire safety.”
Even saying the words reminded him, not for the first time, about Juliet’s odd reaction to the mini torches the other night at the concert. Life had been so chaotic since that he’d pushed her momentary panic to the back of his mind, but he needed to figure out a way to bring it up without scaring her off.
He had to let her know that she could trust him—trust them—with anything. Too bad she was almost as tight of a vault as Tris when it came to unburdening emotional things.
“You have, and nice try at changing the topic.” Harper eased back and accepted the bread he held out. “So? Where is she? I thought for sure you’d be bringing your girlfriend to dinner. Not that you told your sister about any of this.” She sniffed. “I’m not hurt. Much.”
Randy had to laugh. “I’d ask how you know, but I guess everyone does now. L
et me guess. Magazine? TV? Or did Lila send out a memo?”
“Memo, definitely. You know our Lila. Hey, man.” Deacon McCoy, esteemed bassist of Oblivion, strolled into the front hall and gave Randy one of those manly half hug deals, clapping him hard enough on the back to bruise a kidney. The dude was built. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“You too. Both of you.” Randy poked his sister’s arm and she just hugged him again. “Seriously, Harp? What’s with all the hugging today?”
“I’m just happy for you. Isn’t a girl allowed to be happy that her brother is finally—”
“Getting some? Kinda creepy.”
“Oh my God. That was not what I was going to say.”
“No, she was going to say that yay, you have a girlfriend so she can stop fielding questions from your parents about your possible interest in the other team.”
Randy cocked a brow as Harper lifted her loaf of bread threateningly at Deacon. “No way. They haven’t been asking that.”
Harper sighed and lowered her bread baseball bat. “Only now and then. They don’t care if you are. They’d be cool either way. It’s just that you never seem to be seeing anyone, period, and you know how they worry.”
“No, I don’t.” Randy started to laugh it off, then he caught the tightness around Deacon’s mouth.
“Lawless, maybe you should let the poor guy get all the way into the house before you start interrogating him.”
“First, it’s the inquisition, now I’m interrogating. Fine. Whatever. I don’t care if you have a girlfriend, but I really wish you’d brought wine with the bread.”
Despite everything, Randy smiled. “You told me you didn’t need any.”
“I lied. So much lying.”
Randy fumbled for something to say. He should have prepared for this moment, dammit. It wasn’t surprising that his protective older sister wanted details about his relationship with Juliet. The parental bit was shocking, yes, but he supposed if he bent his brain a little, he could see their point of view. Though why a lack of known relationships immediately translated into him possibly being gay, he wasn’t sure.
But you’re in a relationship with a guy, aren’t you?
Except it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t. They were focused on Juliet. And sure, they loved each other like brothers, but it wasn’t sexual.
He wasn’t sure his parents would see it that way, however.
The outside world might not either.
Hell, friends and family and everyone they knew might have questions. It wasn’t as if he could just drop that bombshell casually and move on. It would be a thing.
I’m involved with a woman and a guy, but the guy is just my best friend. We both have sex with her, but not with each other.
Right. That would raise as many questions as it answered, especially among those who would never have expected such a thing from him, a relatively conservative guy in a world of people who weren’t.
The sudden pounding of little feet down the hall followed by a jubilant “Unc!” meant salvation had arrived in the form of a tiny brunette with twin ponytails. Lex charged across the hall and crashed into Randy’s legs and held up her arms. “Up!”
Knowing his role, Randy passed the bag of stuff for Lex to Deacon and then hauled his niece up onto his hip. “Hey, beautiful. Happy turkey day.”
“Turkey and stuffing and canberry and yucky green beans.”
Lex’s wrinkled nose made Randy laugh. “Cranberry,” he said, sounding it out for her. “You forgot the pie. The pie is the important part.”
“Very important, since she already sneaked about ten cherries out of the bowl of them, didn’t you, little girl?” Deacon tugged on one of Lex’s pigtails and made her giggle.
“Mommy said I could.”
“Mommy says you can do just about anything.”
Harper rolled her eyes. “Not hardly. Lexi, tell your Uncle Randy that we need his help in the kitchen while Daddy pretends to watch the game, though he knows absolutely nothing about sports and just wants to get out of helping.”
Lex’s little mouth pursed. “Unc, we need help in the kitchen because Daddy doesn’t know…anything,” she finished finally, making her parents and Randy laugh.
“Wow, kid, you just knocked me down three pegs. Maybe five.” Deacon tugged her out of Randy’s arms and tipped her upside down, making her squeal with laughter. “C’mon, let’s go watch the game. You can school me on the ways of ball, since you probably know more than I do.”
“Pfft,” Harper said as Deacon carted a still giggling Lex into the living room.
“She’ll be bored in a minute and he’ll dive into that bag of stuff you brought her,” Harper said. “You spoil that girl.”
“She deserves to be spoiled. I only have one niece, you know.”
Harper gave him a long, thoughtful look that made him quirk a brow, but she turned away and headed down the hall to the gigantic kitchen before he could bombard her with questions.
Not that he would. He was sensitive that way. No question deluges, no probing glances.
Also, the fewer questions he asked, the fewer he hoped would be directed his way.
To his surprise, Harper didn’t spring during the food prep. He helped her wash and chop veggies and put together the green bean casserole, and they talked about easy, natural subjects. Her catering business, Oblivion going on tour and what that would mean for her and Lex since she was the band’s chef on the road, and even a bit about their parents’ latest tour with the Raging Eleanors. All pleasant, casual conversation.
Meanwhile, he sensed all she hadn’t asked yet.
Harper waited to attack until they were stuffed with a delicious turkey with all the fixings and a sleepy Lex was encouraged to take a nap in the other room. She’d already “colored” one of the pages in the book he’d bought her with her brand new markers. She even stayed inside the lines now and then.
“So,” Harper began, once she’d dished out huge slabs of pumpkin and cherry pie. Randy had taken both, because his sister’s baking was to die for and hell, Thanksgiving only came once a year. “What’s the real story with you and Juliet?”
He forked up more pie and said nothing. In a way, he was playing devil’s advocate in the way that would bug his sister the most. She hated when he got silent, so he’d used that tactic since childhood to drive her nuts.
He guessed he’d never grow out of some sibling games.
“Harper, maybe just give him some space.”
“I’m giving him space. I’m asking politely. I don’t think it’s wrong to try to find out the scoop from my baby brother.”
“The scoop?” Randy asked mildly, finally glancing up from his pie. “You working for The Tattler now, sis? Or better yet, do you plan to run back to Mom and Dad and fill them in so they can be relieved I’m not gay?”
Harper let out a long sigh and set down her fork. “They wouldn’t be relieved about it, Rand. You know better than that. They honestly wouldn’t give a shit. We just worry about you, that’s all.”
“Why? Do I look like I’m struggling or something?”
“No. But you’ve been alone for a while, and you’re not that guy. Some are fine being the eternal bachelor. That isn’t you. You’re the traditional type meant to settle down with a wife—partner,” she amended quickly, “and probably a couple of kids and a dog.”
“I’m more of a cat guy, actually.”
“Whatever. I’m just saying. I’ve heard some stuff about Juliet from Margo, and while I’m happy for both of you, I’m just—”
“Like what?” Yeah, he was clearly done eating for the moment. He set down his fork. “What have you heard from Juliet’s sister? Which is, by the way, pretty fucking shady for her own family to be talking crap about her.”
“There was nothing like that,” Deacon said. “Unless it was when I wasn’t around. Margo loves her sister, man. She’s not trying to cut her down.”
“Then what?” Randy asked, trying to keep his voice even.
He knew he was jumping the gun, but when it came to Juliet, there wasn’t much room inside him to be sensible. “What have you heard about her?”
“Nothing bad. Just that she’s impulsive and a bit flighty and well, she’s not one to stay with any one man for long. It’s just not her thing. Nothing wrong with that, unless the man is you.” Harper braced her cheek on her fist. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Rand. That’s all, I swear.”
“What about two men?” He held Harper’s gaze as she angled her head. “I mean, Juliet with two men. Me and…”
“And who? What do you mean?”
“Don’t make me spell it out, for fuck’s sake.” He couldn’t help ducking his head. Damn that tendency to flush. He might as well be perennially sixteen.
Deacon cleared his throat. “A threesome. Am I right?”
“A what?” Harper’s shriek mirrored Lex’s from earlier at being turned upside down, though there was no laughter behind it.
“You know what a threesome is, Harp. If you didn’t have one with this guy, I can bet he can’t say the same.” Randy jerked a thumb at Deacon.
He knew it was cowardly to try to divert the spotlight, but right then, he didn’t care. He’d needed to come clean about the truth to someone, and his sister and her husband were a good choice. But that didn’t mean it was easy.
For a threesome that was supposed to be all fun and games, so far not a lot of it was, at least when they were outside the bedroom. The intrusion of the real world changed the playing field.
Hell, it was changing them.
“I certainly did not have a threesome with Deak or anyone else. What, are they standard operating procedure now or something?”
“No, but you know how it is in bands.” Deacon reached across the table to cover his wife’s hand with his own. “It’s not exactly unusual.”
“Especially not in your band. Bunch of horndogs.”
“Ours isn’t any worse than many others. Or the world in general.”
