by Joey W. Hill
Ironically, it was also part of why she’d finally had to escape from New York, because looking at what she wanted so much for herself every day and nearing forty without it had been too much.
That decision had brought her here, to Des. It was too convenient, too rom-com, so when she looked at it that way, it was petrifying. And that was what scared her about Thomas and Marcus’s visit, wasn’t it? They were the truth-finders. They would know. They could confirm she was the recipient of a miracle, or prove it a lie, and she’d be back to where she’d been before, vowing she’d never go down this road again.
Look how well that resolve had worked.
“It’s so wonderful to see you two idiots.” She ran up the side steps onto the stage and flung herself into their open arms, a three-way hug so welcoming, unexpected tears choked her. Their tight hold suggested the feeling was mutual. She slid back before she completely made an ass of herself, and dashed at the tears.
“Hey.” Thomas caught her face, his thumb passing over her cheek. She thought he was gently admonishing her for her tears, but when he inadvertently pressed on her sore cheekbone, she flinched, and remembered.
“I told you on the phone I had a mishap on the stage. I’m always getting bumps and bruises.”
“You ran face first into a wall on purpose?” Marcus asked, turning her face to study it. “Even for you, that’s a little extreme.”
“Okay, I didn’t lie.” Or rather, it was almost impossible to lie to Marcus when he pinned someone with that don’t-bullshit-me look. “It was a mishap. A guy broke in and attacked me, some lowlife jerk who thought BDSM was an excuse to attack women. Des was here and took care of him.”
“Not soon enough,” Thomas said darkly.
“Well, he wasn’t here when it started, but he was here before it went anywhere. That was the important thing.”
She held onto both of them. It said something about how well Des had helped her get over it that she hadn’t even thought about the lingering bruises on her face, but in the face of their concern and barely veiled desire to murder someone, she realized she needed to cover some ground, fast. “Seriously, guys, I’m all good. I’ll tell you the whole story, but it’s thanks to Des I didn’t even think to mention it. Haven’t even had one nightmare.”
They exchanged a look. She caught the light brush of Thomas’s hand over Marcus’s forearm. Thomas would tear apart anyone that hurt her, but he was the one most likely to rein it back first and hear what she was saying. His touch brought Marcus down a couple notches. Still, she made a mental note to make sure no one told them about the Pablo incident. As scathing and scary as Des had been about it, she expected they’d be equal storm centers about that. And Marcus…forget it. Pablo would need a protection detail for the rest of his life.
“We have so much catching up to do,” she said. “About things way better than that. Let me introduce you to some of my other lifesavers.”
She drew them over to Harris and to Lila, who came up the stairs on the other side of the stage to join them. She explained the woman’s new play to them so that Lila was blushing and fluttering, her already elevated pulse rate around Marcus and Thomas probably skyrocketing. Julie knew she shouldn’t take such pleasure in seeing women so unbalanced by the two, but it was one of her small joys in life.
She was aware Billie had moved up onto the stage, too, only he’d pulled a chair into the center of it. He had his impressive legs in tight jeans crossed as he cooled himself with a white cardboard fan. It was printed with large purple letters: Baptist Mothers for Family Sanctity, Tent Revival, March 10-13, 2000. It had to be one of his own props, though she had no idea what orifice he’d pulled it out of. Regardless, Billie hadn’t wasted a good stage opportunity. Julie smothered a laugh at his bright-eyed gaze on Marcus and Thomas. “Told you,” she said to the drag queen.
“Oh my my my, yes, honey-chile, you surely did. Mm-mm-mm.” Billie emphasized the last syllable and rose, extending a hand. Despite his more masculine travel attire of a fitted dress shirt over jeans, he could still project his female side admirably.
“I was prepared to like you simply because you are Julie’s friends, but I see so very many other reasons as well.” He let his gaze travel over Marcus and Thomas appraisingly while Julie rolled her eyes. Marcus returned the handclasp before Thomas did the same.
“You must be Billie Dee-Lite,” Thomas said. “Julie says you’ve been a lifesaver.”
“I prefer to be the ass saver. So much more fun.” Billie winked. “You are very special to this dear girl. So glad I got to meet two of the three fine men who have won her love. She’s already won all of ours. We’re never letting her come back to your godforsaken part of the world.”
“Trying to keep a New Yorker out of New York is like keeping a rabbit out of a lettuce patch,” Marcus advised. “We always find our way back.”
“Depends on just how tasty the lettuce is down south.” Billie swept his gaze in such a provocative direction, Julie elbowed him.
“Oh my God, please behave.”
“That Puritan ship sailed a long time ago, honey-chile, and it’s never coming back to this port. I only welcome heathens and pirates now. Those with debauchery on their mind get tied up to a very special dick, I mean dock.”
He looked at Marcus. “I’d love to tie this one up, but I can tell he does the tying. That’d make my heart go pitty-pat if I was a sub, like little Harris over there. But this one…” He let his attention slide over to Thomas and Julie hid a smirk as Thomas damn near blushed. He was very much Marcus’s submissive, but he wasn’t into being public about it. “He likes it when you take control,” Billie purred, “and that is a morsel that just begs to be devoured.”
“That ass is taken,” Marcus warned with humor, but a gleam in his eye. “And everything attached to it. Don’t make me get rough with you. Wouldn’t want you to break one of those pretty nails.”
Billie waved the glossy set, painted purple with silver flecks. He dressed as a male for traveling, but he always wore makeup and nail polish.
“I live for the rough stuff. And I hope that ass is taken quite regularly, else it would be a waste.” He winked at Julie. “As much as I’m enjoying the view, this girl must hit the road.”
Billie leaned close, brushing Julie’s cheek with his lips. “Don’t you worry about a thing, honey-chile,” he murmured. “You just let them and Des exercise their delicious male testosterone and work it out. Bat your eyelashes and enjoy being the center of all that big, bad male protectiveness. Take video if that catfight happens.”
Julie rolled her eyes but watched with fondness as Billie Dee-Lite made his other good-byes and then sauntered away, a predictably dramatic exit stage left. He gave Harris’s ass a playful pinch as he passed him. Thomas and Marcus were watching him with equal parts fascination and amusement, the usual reaction to all the contradictions that were Billie.
“So how long are you guys going to be in town?” Julie asked. “Where are you staying? I have a little one-bedroom apartment nearby.”
Madison and Logan had insisted on her renting a nearby place that wasn’t as isolated. Since the theater was taking off, she knew it was time to clear out of the dressing room area, regardless, but she’d stayed one additional night here, just to prove her attacker hadn’t made her afraid to do so.
“I haven’t had a chance to make it my space yet, but I do have a sofa.” The only decoration so far was a set of chimes Des had bought her at his preferred farmers’ market, which she’d put on the small balcony she had on the third floor. At the end of a long day, she’d sit out there with a cup of tea, put her feet up and listen to their music change with the angle and weight of the breeze.
“I could take the sofa while you guys take the bed,” she continued. “The bed’s a queen. We could slumber party. Well, I mean…” Abruptly, she realized she had a variable she hadn’t had when last she saw them, and that was the possibility of Des spending the night.
“Des m
ight be there, but as long as you guys are all okay with sharing one miniscule bathroom…”
Thomas looked at Marcus. “Did we give her permission to have boys sleep over?”
“She’s blushing,” Marcus said, studying her with amusement and something more serious.
“Shut up, both of you. This is new to me. I’m not used to juggling guests with…someone I’m seeing.”
“It’s okay. As lovely as those accommodations sound, I was able to scrape up enough to get us a suite at the Marriott for the week. That recent artist I signed is making a decent amount of commissions. When I can get him to work.”
Thomas snorted. “I’d get more done if my spouse wasn’t so needy and demanding.”
Julie latched onto Marcus’s words. “A week? You’ll be here a whole week? That’s fabulous.”
Marcus shrugged. “We figured we’d pitch in here and help out with your new play, visit with you and get to know Des.”
“Oh God, that would be so wonderful. We’re really short on set work help right now, with my student volunteers involved with exams. Thomas’s handyman skills would be invaluable.”
“And mine wouldn’t?”
Julie lifted a brow. “You’re great for hauling and lifting, but handyman work is not your forte. Remember my toilet?”
“I can’t help that it was possessed by Satan. I told you to call a priest, not a plumber.”
“Regardless, I have a much better use for you. I need you on publicity and community relations. I was trying to figure out how to juggle the radio and TV spots we’ve booked, because poor Madison got a cold and sounds like a frog right now. I can give you the basics and let you run with it. You’re as good as Steve Martin in Leap of Faith, getting everybody out to the tent revival.”
“I take it he wasn’t available?”
“All booked.” She beamed and then impulsively flung herself back into their arms, holding on tight. “I love you guys. I can’t wait for you to meet Des, though I’m scared to death about it. I want you all to like each other so much, I probably need to let you three get together on your own so I don’t turn it into a disaster by trying to control all of it.”
“Have you ever known Marcus to let anyone else take control?” Thomas pointed out.
“I think you know the answer to that,” Marcus rebounded, tossing him a look. Julie raised a brow as Thomas flushed this time.
“Do tell?”
“Nope, that one stays between him and me,” Marcus informed her firmly. “The hint was just to torture you.”
“You love your small torments of us lesser mortals.”
“Exactly.” Marcus pinched her ass and she punched his solid stomach. “How about you show us what we can do for you right now? It’ll take your mind off what we’ll do to Des if he’s not good enough for you.”
She smirked, but as she led them backstage, she couldn’t help adding, “He’s good enough for me. Really. He’s…we fit.”
She stopped and faced them. “Honestly, I think I want you guys to like him so much because I do. I’m a big girl and I know even if you don’t hit it off, that doesn’t matter as much as what he and I feel for one another. But I love you guys and…I love him.” She shook her head. “I adore my idiot family, you know I do, but the two of you are the ones I want to approve of him, dumb as that sounds. I’ve had appalling taste in guys, but he’s different. God, I know that sounds lame and meaningless.”
Thomas and Marcus exchanged a look full of multiple meanings, then Thomas reached out and clasped her hand, Marcus taking the other. “You don’t have appalling taste in men,” Marcus informed her with a direct look. “You just have a very good heart. If this guy is good for you—and he seems to be—I think it will be easy for us to get along. Anyone who truly loves and cares about you will get our vote.”
“That doesn’t mean we won’t bust his balls,” Thomas added with a worrisome twinkle in his eyes. “That’s required. We have to at least throw him in the trunk and make him think we’re going to stake him out in the woods for possums and fire ants to eat his eyeballs.”
“You can take the boy out of redneck country, but you can’t take the redneck out of the boy,” Marcus said fondly.
“Does the Maserati even have a trunk?” Julie demanded. “One bigger than a toddler?”
“Oh, he finally let the Spyder go. Mercedes CLA Class. Much more leg room. And a decent trunk.”
Julie widened her eyes and put her hand on Thomas’s arm as she did a mock stagger. “He got rid of the Spyder? I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Well, he is over forty now,” Thomas affected a stage whisper behind one hand. “He’s starting to grow out of that sports car thing.”
Julie laughed as Marcus went after Thomas, probably intending to take him to the floor and pummel him. Thomas ducked behind her, holding her by the shoulders to use her as a human shield, while Marcus resorted to tickling to get her out of the way.
She shrieked and squirmed away, but threw her arms out in front of Thomas to protect him. “Be nice,” she told Marcus. “You need him to take care of you in your old age.”
“Oh, you are both so dead.”
She’d arranged for Des to first meet Marcus and Thomas at a Chili’s for dinner. She figured the casual atmosphere, good food and busy bar would be a good combination for the three men.
Des had texted her that he’d meet them at the restaurant. She, Marcus and Thomas had time for a round of beers and a half hour of catching up before he arrived.
When he came in, her heart did its usual little tilt, the way it did each time they were apart and she saw him again. Evidence like that supported her resolve that this time things would be different. Even the few times she’d imagined herself in love, she hadn’t experienced the light-as-air reaction to a man as often as she did with Des.
Giving Marcus and Thomas a smile, she slipped away from the booth to retrieve him, since the restaurant was crowded and he might not locate them. It also gave her the excuse to put her hands on his shoulders, lift onto her toes and kiss him without any self-consciousness.
He’d showered, and smelled clean and damp. Over his dark blue jeans he wore a Doctor Who T-shirt. It showed the Tardis as if it was the center point of Van Gogh’s Starry Night.
Gathering her close, he pressed his face into her hair. “You smell so pretty,” he said. “Just as pretty as you look. I missed you today.”
He said that almost every time they’d been apart, but it wasn’t rote. He seemed to mean it every time. They really were kind of gone over one another. As much as she wanted to rein it in, chide herself not to be silly, or to risk too much, whenever she saw him at the end of the day there was no choice but to react honestly, because he did the same.
She drew back. “You look pretty special yourself. Love the T-shirt. I may have to steal that one.”
“Since it’s a size too small for those gorgeous breasts of yours, I’ll look forward to seeing you in it.”
She elbowed him but took his hand, threading back through the crowd toward their table. Marcus and Thomas watched them with observation skills an FBI behavioral analysis unit would envy. “Guys, this is Des. Desmond Hayes. Des, these are my best friends, Marcus Stanton and Thomas Wilder.”
“Pleasure.” Des shook Marcus’s hand first, giving him and Thomas an equally assessing glance. “She’s been so happy you guys were coming to see her.”
Julie noticed Thomas was studying Des peculiarly, his head cocked. It wasn’t unusual to see Thomas looking at someone with a particular intensity, because he was always composing future works in his head. Des would definitely qualify as appealing subject matter. She wondered what Des would think if he inspired Thomas’s next masterpiece, since his focus was often gay erotic art. Des didn’t have any problem being around gay men, but he was damn straight in his own preferences.
When he caught her looking, Thomas lifted a shoulder and his expression cleared. “We’ve only recently heard good things about you
. You’ve been keeping her tied up these past few weeks.”
“In more ways than one,” Des said agreeably. He earned a sharp look from Marcus, which he met with a clear-eyed Dom-to-Dom look that gave Julie a little flutter. He’d taken that opening on purpose. It was a “Yeah, you’re her friends and I hope we’ll all get along, but I’m not going to walk on eggshells or kiss your ass to get your approval.” It was also a not-so-subtle way to confirm she’d told them about his preferences, Dom and rigger. She’d told him she had.
Yet remembering his reaction at the party when they’d talked about Marcus and Thomas with Madison and Logan, she realized the message Des had just sent had been a reinforcement of that, as much for her as for them. She didn’t know if that made her feel better or more nervous.
Des hadn’t intended it as a juvenile joke, either. He’d delivered it with a straight look, tempered with the friendly handshake. Marcus was still considering him while Thomas moved in to smooth things.
“We’ve missed her, too,” he told Des, and glanced at Julie. “New York needs your humor to keep it from taking itself too seriously.”
“You were supposed to be holding up that end of things with your clear-eyed Southern perspective.”
“Marcus has been keeping me too busy. Josh warned me what it would be like to be married to my manager and I just didn’t listen.”
“Now you’re stuck with me for life,” Marcus said lightly, caressing Thomas’s nape.
Julie slid into the booth and Des took the seat next to her, his hand settling on her thigh as she curled her hands around his biceps to hold onto him. Under the lamp hanging over the table, he looked a little tired. The roofing job had been a big one, though. A couple of their usual guys had been unavailable, and the home was an eight thousand square foot estate with two guest houses they’d also wanted re-roofed.
