Page 47 of Binding Their Hearts

Sudden stillness held Will captive before his chin dipped and he shook his head with increasing speed. “Of course, the wedding.” A smile rolled across his face as he turned. “A thing I am well aware of and not at all surprised by.” His bellowing laugh echoed in the space, and the accompanying bear hug was a welcome if slightly painful accompaniment. Stepping back, Will gripped Henry’s shoulders and rattled him. “You went from considering proposing to actually proposing in under two months? You? Did I miss the fireworks and the skywriters?”

Henry ostentatiously smoothed his suit jacket, shoulders and lapels both, then tugged the sleeves into place. “One month, in fact. And I did so spontaneously, without any plan at all.” Surely his eyes twinkled as he offered innocent, coquettish blinks. “The proposal turned out splendid.”

Will narrowed his gaze to flinty blue chips. “This is so unlike you.”

“Brace yourself.” He rarely got to tease Will anymore; something about this season of change had reinvigorated him, awoken some youthful optimism—some belief in dreams. His were coming true, and he wouldn’t quibble if they all chose to arrive at once. “I’ve handed over planning duties for the ceremony to Jay.”

Will pressed the back of his hand to Henry’s forehead. “Hmm, no fever, but the symptoms are beyond suspicious. Turn your head and cough.”

Laughing, Henry brushed him aside. The windows offered a view of rooftops and sky, with glass-and-steel high-rises in the distance. Somewhere the perfect home for his family sat waiting. “He made a convincing case for himself. If I may grant Jay a greater sense of belonging and validation by giving up my desire to control every last detail, then I will do so a hundred times over.”

Stepping up beside him, Will leaned an arm against the glass. “He’s a smart boy. Wholly dedicated to you and your girl. I’m sure he’ll do a fine job.”

Jay’s sentimental depths made him well suited for the task—the event was merely a level of responsibility Henry hadn’t asked of him yet. The shifting of boundaries would warrant a contract discussion once the happy occasion passed. If more responsibility would assure Jay of his place in the relationship, he would receive more opportunities to flex those muscles. The arrangement wouldn’t even be an unusual one for a submissive; Henry need only balance it with his own bottomless hunger to be a caretaker and provider. Simple in thought. In action… Well, they’d see, wouldn’t they.

“He did inadvertently remind me of how much Emma handled for Victor, and still handles for the club. I’ve been delegating certain rituals to Alice in the last few months.” The room checks, at least, seemed a source of relaxation for his sweet girl. Her initial nervousness had passed, and now she basked in Jay’s devoted service. “I suppose I can unbend enough to give Jay the same opportunity when he so dearly needs to recognize that his life is a success—and that his own choices and actions are the primary driver of that success.”

“A lesson we should all learn so well.” Will pushed off from the window and crossed the suite. “This calls for a toast.” Crouching in front of the mini fridge below the miniscule countertop, he pulled out a bottle. “Sparkling water will have to suffice. I’ll take you all to dinner and fete you properly with champagne when time allows.” With a practiced pour, he filled two stemmed glasses. “When’s the ceremony?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea.” He accepted the glass Will proffered as the bubbles danced to the surface and burst. “Jay plans to consult with Emma after I share the news with her.” He ought to have time yet to track her down before Alice’s flogging session with Leah; Alice and Jay had gone out to obtain lunch and return with something for him. “I’m certain he’ll manage better than I’ve done with the house hunt. I now have thirty-five days to secure other lodgings and remove our lives from the apartment entirely.”

Will staggered back, one hand clutched over his heart. “Well now I know you’re serious about these two. Marriages can be undone, but you’ve had that apartment, what, fifteen years?”

“About that, yes.” He’d lost Will’s focus, though. His old friend’s light mood slipped, revealing distant eyes in a face weighed down by—regret, perhaps? “Tell me.”

“I’ve talked to the lawyer.” Will swirled the water in his glass as though it were spirits he meant to inhale. “We’re filing the papers. She’ll be served within a week or two.” Scrubbing his beard with his free hand, he grimaced. “The house came down through Viv’s family, so I suppose I’ll be searching for a new place of my own soon.”

Bedroom, bathroom, sitting area—for a man who didn’t cook, the suite could serve as a temporary landing place. “You could always stay here while you look.”

“I could say the same of you three.” Will spread his arms wide, encompassing the room—which, while spacious, would quickly become cramped as a living situation with no privacy. “What’s mine is yours.”

“Live without a full kitchen?” Henry donned a mask of shock and dismay. “Alas, I must pass, as generous as the offer is.” But the timing meant Will would almost certainly be displaced from his home before the holidays began, unless they waited for—“Will you tell Liam at the Thanksgiving break?”

Will flattened his mouth and shook his head even before Henry had finished the question. “I’ll drive up and tell him in person before his mother can weaponize the news. He’s traveling with friends for the holiday.” He curled his lip in a cocky half smile as he threw Henry a sidelong glance. “You remember what that was like.”

“Love interest?” Their final year at prep school had been delightfully adventurous owing to one insatiably curious shared girlfriend. Liam should be so lucky.

“Possibly. He hasn’t brought anyone home, but with his mother and me, I don’t blame him.” Blinking, Will blew out a hard breath. “I can’t say I’ll miss Thanksgiving dinner with Vivian’s family.”

A man couldn’t pass up such an opening.

“You ought to dine with us.” Alice would be thrilled; he’d promised to consider her insights, and here he was, willy-nilly inventing a formal dinner party on the spot. His mother would understand his absence, particularly given that he’d practically promised to haul Alice and Jay home for Christmas. “Thanksgiving is a day for good friends as well as family. We’ll invite Em, recapture the spirit of the old days.”

Relaxation reshaped Will’s bulk in an instant; he shed his stiff back and tight neck, loosened his crossed arms. “I’d enjoy that. Spontaneity is a good look on you. I don’t think I’ve seen it in years.” He barked the booming laugh that everyone who met him described as jolly, because what else could one do when presented with a pale beard and a rounded belly? “You’re inviting me for Thanksgiving dinner at an unknown location and your wedding on an unknown date. I’m surprised the uncertainty hasn’t driven you mad.”

“The results of that experiment are yet to be determined.” He hadn’t devolved into madness, no, though his equanimity had undoubtedly been disturbed. But he couldn’t rush perfection, and he couldn’t present Alice and Jay with less than that. “I need to give them a home, Will. A true home, bright and open and loving. They’ve both been deprived of one for far too long.”

A low hum of agreement met his declaration. Will paced past the bed, past the chairs where Henry had sat and sketched Claire for hours over the summer, past the empty suspension rig. He leaned against the column between the windows and crossed his ankles. “You’ve named the answer already, you realize—Emma. Between her father’s business connections and the legwork she did for Victor all those years, she does know everyone.”

As if he hadn’t gone that route first. “We’ve been availing ourselves of her suggested agent. She’s doing a fine job.” Though they resided in a frustrating limbo in which no property satisfied his conditions, the woman kept trying to find what he sought. “The house I want either doesn’t exist or isn’t on the market.”

“Then ask Em personally.” Will’s words slowed; he held his water goblet curled protectively against his chest. “She’s been known to work miracles.”

He saw it then, the quality Alice had noted because she’d been paying attention to his friends in a way he hadn’t—getting to know them instead of seeing what was expected from long acquaintance. Will’s tone changed when he spoke of Emma. His body language shifted. How long had that been happening? “I think I will. I do mean to speak with her before Alice’s flogging session this afternoon.”

“How’s young Jay handling that?” The warmth in Will’s voice and his concerned squint betrayed the sensitive friend beneath his burly exterior.

“Joyfully.” He let the pride wash through him, a slow burn seeking out every bend and corner. Of all the concurrent projects they were balancing, Jay’s continued recovery from trauma, via a mix of therapy and desensitization, remained the only unqualified success. “He amazes me.”

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