Page 2 of Binding Their Hearts

His agent dashed off without Henry uttering a word. Everyone should have a handler so competent. Across the room he spied Alice and Jay, Jay’s dark head a magnet for his gaze. They stood in conversation with another couple, but who? He sidled past a knot of gregarious young men, and his curiosity eased. Master Drew and pet Leah, both well known. Not that Alice and Jay couldn’t handle themselves without his guidance. After this summer, with Cal, they’d proven they could conquer any difficulty. Still, the growl itching in his throat reminded him, they belonged to him. Watching them was a joy so complete it stole his breath some days.

Leah bounced in place, her schoolgirl-style braids bobbing, before she flung her arms around Alice. Jay whispered in Alice’s ear, and the pair of them laughed. They deserved the levity; the cloud of rejection Jay’s family had cast over them had yet to fully dissipate. For ten days, Jay had shown greater affection and commitment to their relationship—and a need for the same reassurances in return. No wonder, after their jagged parting. Healing would take time, but at least Jay had agreed to attempt therapy. Requested it, even. Thanks to the club’s resource network, he would have his first appointment next week.

“That’s very kind,” Henry responded to a half-heard compliment, turning his attention to its giver. “What catches your eye about it?”

The lighting and composition, apparently. The young woman knew something of art. He let himself be drawn into a discussion of photographic reference and fine detail. As they talked, they shifted toward the painting—a shadow of a form bound by rope spilled across the floor beneath an empty suspension setup. He’d meant to capture the essence of Will’s loss with Claire’s upcoming departure.

“There he is, the man of the hour.” Will’s jovial, booming voice startled the young woman, who jerked her head up and took half a step back. She made polite excuses and departed as Will handed him a fresh drink. Voice significantly lower, Will added, “I thought you could use a rescue after a good ninety minutes of playing nice.”

Had it been so long? Yes, perhaps so—he’d conversed with more than a dozen interested parties and well-wishers, one after the other, in the rhythm of establishing introductions and manufacturing mystery. Curiosity transformed admirers into clients. He sipped from the glass. Not the punch Jay had brought, but a suitable substitute. Nothing like the bright red liquid—almost certainly unfathomably sweet—in the glasses Jay and Alice held across the room now, the thinner crowd permitting him to sate his hunger watching them. Or rouse it.

“Thank you, Will. The last girl wasn’t much of a nuisance—a photographer. Deeper than the standard inquiries, at any rate.” A glance at his bear of a friend showed Will intent on the painting. “I’m surprised you aren’t upstairs with her yet tonight.”

Will sighed, his mouth twitching. “I could answer, ‘Your photographer? I hardly know her.’”

“You could.” Henry waited. He’d considered titling the work Absence, or Memory, but ultimately opted for optimism: We’ll Meet Again.

“Claire’s girlfriends wanted to take her out to celebrate her new job and the move. Her final weekend fling in Boston.” Will scrubbed at the white-blond beard along his jaw. “It’s fine. She’s been a wonderful rope bunny, and I wish her well.” Clearing his throat, he turned his back on the painting and scanned the room. “And yours? How are they after the…” He waggled one hand. “The dust-up with the family.”

One intractable woman—and the cold indifference of Jay’s parents—for shame. The fierce snarl coiled in Henry’s gut became a low grunt. “Family can be difficult.”

Will’s bark of a laugh cut the air. “That’s quite an understatement.”

Truly. Jay’s family, at least, resided several hours distant. Will shared a home with his tormenter.

“We’re managing.” He studied them easily, in a small circle of friends at the far end of the room, Jay attentive and thoughtful, his hand resting on the bare skin revealed by the plunging back of Alice’s dress. She’d had to forgo a traditional bra this evening but squirmed enticingly as he’d applied the adhesive replacements. “Developing a healthier support system, one might say.”

“That’s good, good.” Will absently rubbed his index finger along the side of his glass. “It’s important to have people one can count on.”

“It is.” The topics Will might sidle up to and shy from numbered exceptionally few. His boisterous nature typically proved sufficient to overcome any reticence. Henry hunted for an entry point. “And Liam? Is he settling in at school?”

“Senior year, ha. He’s practically running the place.” A grin gave Will’s face its usual cast, bright and cheery, his blue eyes conspiratorial. “You remember what it was like. I think he has a new love, though he hasn’t said much, not that I expect he’d brag to his father, though he did mention how much he enjoyed our traditional sendoff lunch. We’ll have to pepper him with questions at the winter break, if he doesn’t travel with friends.”

“Our gatherings have been a treasure. I’ll miss them.” Their seventh and final time for that particular tradition. Will’s son had grown into a man year by year, no longer the nervous, bravado-spouting boy he’d been at eleven, before his first year at the academy his father had attended. Someday, perhaps, Henry would invite Will to help him offer the same guidance to his own son or daughter—assuming Alice agreed to children in the first place, and that Alice and Jay agreed to send their children to a boarding school that turned out graduates like him and Will. “Endings are difficult, too.”

Will glanced over his shoulder, the weight of the painting yet with them. He ambled along the row, and Henry kept pace. Will stopped in front of the night’s centerpiece, the portrait of Silke and Lacey. The mistress gripped her pet’s throat from behind, baring her neck, the collar visible between her spread fingers. Lacey’s head rested on her owner’s shoulder, her expression a blissful haze as vivid as the moment he’d seen it in life. As vivid as the ecstasy Alice and Jay showed at his own expressions of dominance. Some craving in the atoms themselves, undeniable and inescapable, to be claimed. To belong.

“I tell them up front, you know.” Will stared at the portrait, though his stillness and the distant cast of his gaze suggested he saw something else entirely. “That I won’t collar them, that they are free to play with whomever they choose.”

“For some, that is enough. Their preferred mode of moving through this world.” Not for him, for all that he hadn’t collared Alice and Jay. They belonged to him nonetheless.

“Hmph.” Will knocked back a healthy swig of the rosemary-tinged drink. “I could never offer them all of me—not even most of me—and if Vi found out, they’d be a target.”

Through long practice, Henry maintained a neutral expression. Will’s wife stood second only to Jay’s family in his measure of disdain. Her lies and manipulations had wrenched something asunder in his oldest friend. “She is a vindictive sort, I’ll grant you.”

“Always with the understatements.” Will’s barrel chest surged out; when he exhaled, the gust stirred the curtain. “I’m going to do it. Soon. Now. It’s time.”

Relief swelled, as if lightning had split a stone in two and the river could run free once more. “You deserve to be happy, Will. You know I’ll do all I can to support you in the endeavor.”

“Liam will be eighteen in a few months. No custody battles. Her threats on that count are empty now. He can make up his own mind about the kind of father I’ve been to him.”

“You are an outstanding father, and Liam has a level head. He isn’t about to cut off contact with you just to please his mother.” Though the mother, were she anything like Jay’s sister, might threaten those ties in an attempt to bring Will to heel.

Cheek twitching above his beard, Will nodded. “I’m finally going to file and end this marriage.”

“It’s the right choice.” Across the room, Alice stood face to face with their beloved Jay, sweeping his hair back as she often did, nuzzling his ear, trailing kisses toward his mouth. Jay clasped her waist, his fingers dipping into the folds of her dress and exploring the bare skin just above her ass. On any other Friday night, their games would have begun hours ago. New and inventive, but also a blissful routine for the household they shared. “I’m going to start one.”

“Start—” Will swung his head around, then followed Henry’s gaze to the intimate pair. He stepped closer and bent near. “A marriage?”

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