Page 24 of Binding Their Hearts

She pushed against his cock. “But you want him now.”

Hands at her waist, he lifted her to her feet and stood. He turned her, setting them face to face, and raised her chin with thumb and forefinger, his grip firm but not painful. In his eyes he contained unfathomable depths, endless love and hunger and self-control swirling in a green storm.

“But it will mean more to him then.”

For Henry, dominance held no higher purpose than that. She was starting to understand. “I want to do something special for him. Not tonight—something bigger. Long term. Will you help me figure it out?”

When Henry smiled, his eyes glowed. “I would be absolutely delighted.”

Chapter twelve

Jay

The PA system boomed, still trying to find the poor guy who’d left his lights on. The garble hardly registered over the noise on the concourse and the competition between Jay’s nephews to see who could order more food. They had eyes bigger than their stomachs—if Kevin actually let them order all that, they’d need a wheelbarrow to get it back to their seats before the game started again.

“So how long does this halftime last?”

Dylan and Evan shook their heads and rolled their eyes, Ev doing a damn good impression of his dad’s exasperated sigh. “It’s intermission, Uncle Jay. Halftime is for football.”

“They’re going to play football next?” He bugged his eyes out cartoon-style. “I thought this was hockey?”

Dylan took his hand and flapped their arms before headbutting his ribs. “It is hockey, Uncle Jay. It’s the best sport. I’m in Mites this year but it’s my third year and next year I get to move up and Ev is in PeeWees and he’s learning to tend goal but not me I’m a defenseman and when I get bigger I’m gonna smash guys into the boards.”

Headbutts from an eight-year-old could get pretty intense. Jay snaked his hand down to Dylan’s chest and held him off with a straight-arm hold, which only made him laugh and try harder, running in place and windmilling his arms. “I think you’re gonna crush ’em, killer.”

Kevin pulled his phone from his pocket and dangled it in front of both boys. “Take turns. No hitting, or I’m putting it away.”

Evan got first dibs—he was eleven, so he probably got to do everything first. That was how being brothers worked. Must’ve been different being so close in age, though. Jay had never competed with Kevin for anything, except maybe the chance to earn something Mom and Dad would appreciate as much as they did the basketball trophies Kevin had brought home.

“Can you believe”—Kevin pinched the top of his nose and rubbed his eyes—“they were both at the local rink at six this morning? I can’t even remember having that much energy. Char played chauffeur today, and she was dead on her feet by two.” He shuffled forward as the line moved a few inches, keeping the boys corralled ahead of him. “Thanks for meeting us here. Sorry for the late notice.”

“No, it was nice to get the call.” He hadn’t heard the voicemail until after Alice’s flogging training with Leah this afternoon, when he’d retrieved his phone from the front desk at the club. Kevin’s offer of his wife’s ticket had come straight out of the blue. “I’m sorry she couldn’t make it, but thanks for thinking of me.”

He wasn’t as clueless about hockey as he’d pretended to amuse his nephews, but tonight was still his first Bruins game. Not having his phone on him had been a lucky break—no pressure to answer on the spot. No stupid charging ahead alone, like he’d done calling Mom in August. He’d played the message for Henry and Alice and talked through what he wanted from hanging out with his brother and what he might expect, and what he should do if things didn’t go well.

“Well, you know.” Kevin stared up at the concessions menu. They had a good dozen people ahead of them. “I said we should catch a game, and we’d been planning this outing for the kids for weeks. I don’t know how I managed to end up with two hockey fanatics. All-state in basketball, and I can’t even get them to shoot hoops with their dad.”

Always running off on that damn bike of yours.

He scrubbed the back of his head to kick out Dad’s voice. “Sometimes people just aren’t who you want them to be. You can be disappointed, or hate them for it, or you can let them show you who they are and maybe find out you love them anyway.”

The sudden vacuum of sound meant he’d said the wrong thing. Or no—Danny would say to look again like a friend had done the thing instead of him. Was it still bad? What would he say to the friend? Unexpected. Yeah, not wrong, just unexpected. He’d surprised Kevin, and people didn’t always react their best when they were surprised. “Wow, that was heavy. I must be hungrier than I thought. Scatterbrained.”

“Jay, I—” Kevin blew out two hard breaths and cleared his throat. “You’re my brother. No matter what, okay? You’re great with kids, and I know you try hard.”

His chest pinched. Kevin didn’t mean to call him a failure. Only Jay’s inner kid stuff made it sound that way.

“You leap into stuff with your whole heart. Fearless.”

Kevin had to be joking. The guy who was afraid of every fucking thing, fearless? Yeah. Right. Anxiety dug its claws into his shoulders all the time and came along for the ride, trying to steer him in the wrong directions. Like now, worrying one wrong step would blow up this relationship again and he’d be back to being the ungrated Parmesan. What did Henry call it? Persona non grata, that was it. Latin or something for unacceptable cheese.

“I had a pickup game this morning.” Basketball would be a safer topic. One that didn’t make Kevin uncomfortable. “We weren’t out on the court at six, though. More like ten. Lazy city folk.”

He laughed to show Kevin it was okay to join in but got only a smile and a puff of air.

“Henry said you still played. I’m glad you’ve got friends to hang with. I don’t do that kind of thing these days. The kids’ schedules make it impossible—practices and games for both of them now through March, and extra camps over the summers.” Kevin’s shoulders relaxed, and the strain in his voice disappeared. “I think Evan’s going to make the elite squad next year, and that’ll mean more traveling.”

His weeks had gotten kinda full, too, but not with anything he could share with Kevin except the basketball. Therapy sessions, room checks with Alice, the origami project, Friday night playtime, helping with Henry’s classes and keeping Alice company during her flogging training, going on house-hunting outings—that plus running the business kept him plenty busy. But good-busy, happy-busy, like the way Kevin warmed up when he talked about the boys. “He sounds like a good player. You must be proud.”

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