Three Men and a Woman_Jubilee

by Rachel Billings

  He seemed to wait for another snort, but it didn’t happen. Brody spoke seriously instead. “He’s trying to say he loves me. And Henry, too. Our friendship is a big part of our lives, to each of us. If we left it for you to choose one of us, it would probably cost us that—our friendship—and it would be a hell of a loss.” With his gaze, he checked in with Keith for confirmation, then looked back at Jubilee. “He’s good with the systems shit. But if you want to talk emotions or relationships, I’m your better choice.”

  Jubilee couldn’t hide her smile. “Good to know.”

  “Plus, it goes without saying, we all know you’d choose me.”

  Now Keith snorted.

  Brody smiled. “Just sayin’.” He pressed his arm against hers. “I got a lot of dough, in case you don’t know.”

  “Nice,” Keith muttered.

  “It is what it is,” Brody responded with a smirk, and Jubilee knew however much money Brody had, it mattered to none of them.

  They were a quiet for a few minutes, and Jubilee let a little bit of happiness settle around her. A bit of hope. And she realized it was more than she’d had—much more—for the last two years. But then she remembered that hurt in her heart. “What about Henry?”

  “His loss,” Brody said abruptly.

  She looked at him. “But you love him, too.”

  That brought a sigh. “Yeah.”

  Keith spoke up. “He’ll be in.” He went on when Brody looked his doubt at him. “I think he will be. He’s just more…”

  “Stick-up-his-ass-like,” Brody muttered.

  Keith ignored that. “He’s more grounded,” he said. “He doesn’t see the possibilities so easily. He can dream about robots and AI, but not about…”

  “Humans,” Brody filled in. He looked at her. “He’s pretty alone in his life. He doesn’t have high expectations from relationships.”

  Jubilee thought of what she’d learned about Henry. He liked control and ownership. He said he wanted her, not that he might love her.

  “I think he’ll see it,” Keith said into her silence. “If we give him time.”

  Jubilee was pretty sure they were both less confident in Henry than they made out. And—they loved him. She had to consider that they might choose him over her.

  “What about you, sweetheart?” Keith ruffled his fingers through her hair. “Can you see it?”

  * * * *

  Their girl wasn’t sure.

  Keith and Brody waited for her answer. A couple times she started to speak, but she didn’t get a full word out. Finally, Brody had to take the pressure off her.

  “It’s okay, baby. This is new and…odd, right? You don’t have to make big decisions now.” He pulled her to her feet. “Maybe it’s good you have a few days away. Time with your family. We all have that coming up. Probably that will be good for all of us. In addition—” He nodded toward the stairs. “—we have tonight. We can sleep on it.”

  It wouldn’t hurt for all of them to take a step back and look at what they were doing. It was no small thing. He could even wonder if they all weren’t a bit crazy, but Keith had that plan of his, and he was as practical, realistic a sort as could be. If he had it worked out in his head, Brody would pay attention.

  Upstairs, it was clear he and Keith were thinking alike, and that in itself was nicely reassuring. Without speaking of it, they both undressed and were content to lie with Jubilee between them and simply fall asleep.

  Well, “content” might have been overstating the case, but it was a good thing to do. They’d pushed a lot this weekend, seducing Juby into four-way sex, convincing her to consider a significantly outré relationship. Plus there’d been whatever edgy stuff Henry had done, and the obvious bruise to her heart when he’d walked out. So, if it felt reassuring to her for them to settle for a night of cuddling, he was all for it. If she noticed the boner he sported—Keith no doubt nursed one, too, though Brody refrained from checking—she was polite enough not to mention it.

  But neither Brody nor Keith, in the morning, could leave her for the week without something more. Keith’s phone alarm went off first, and Brody listened as Keith kissed Jubilee awake. And then he kissed her hot, so she didn’t object when he rolled her over to his side of the bed and made love to her. He was really very sweet about it, though Brody tried hard not to listen.

  When Keith went off to the shower, what could she expect? Brody reached out his hand and found hers, and, when he tugged, she came to him. He kissed her, too.

  “Good morning, baby.”

  “Hi, Brody.”

  He leaned over her, stroking down her neck and shoulder until he could cover her breast with his palm. Her nipple was already tight when he ran his thumb over it. Even though she’d just had what sounded like a pretty good orgasm with Keith, her gaze flared as he circled with his thumb. She was so damn responsive. Brody pushed a leg between hers, humped her thigh a little, and reminded himself what a lucky guy he was. He kissed her again, lingering quite a bit at the edge of her jaw.

  “You know what I’m thinking?” he asked.

  “What?” she asked, and he could feel the smile curve her lips. She probably thought he was thinking he wanted to fuck her. Not that she was wrong, but—

  “I was thinking how happy I am that Keith is an idiot and fell into a creek in the middle of a snowstorm.”

  She chuckled, and he felt it right then. His heart went splat. He guessed that was what happened when you were falling in love and then got all the way there.

  He had to be inside her. Having to search out a condom and get it in place was a damn nuisance—he was totally on board with that birth control plan—but he made quick work of it. Then he centered himself between her legs and pushed into her.

  All the way. Every last inch.

  He had most of his weight on his elbows, and he cupped her head with his hands, leaning in so he could kiss her again. “Sorry.”

  She had her warm hands on him—his neck, his shoulders—and her fingers toyed with his hair. It was all sweet and gentle, like she wasn’t miffed at him. “Sorry?”

  He nodded. “That was a little abrupt, the way I just shoved into you. But I—I have to tell you I love you, and this seemed the best way.” He considered how that might sound. “I mean I wanted to be here when I said it. Inside you. I’m not implying f—making love to you is the only way I have of showing my feelings.” It felt so fucking good to be there, though, that he couldn’t help giving one long, slow stroke. “Though it does. And it feels so fucking good at the same time, I can’t lie about that. I just…like this so much.” His body had its own mind about it and kept on gently fucking her. “Just being connected like this. It seemed the best way to say it. The only way.”

  This wasn’t going exactly as he’d planned. He was seriously fucking her now, his body thrusting into her intently, his left hand working her nipple, his head really pretty much out of the game. And Jubilee wasn’t objecting. She had her lips at his shoulder and then—Oh, God—her teeth. She was murmuring in pleasure and rocking her hips in time with his. He grasped at the thread of his thoughts, but he was having a tough time of it.

  “Jubilee,” he said.

  “What?” she asked on a quick rush of breath.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Brody, are you still talking?”

  That made him grin. It also made him remember what he was about. He held one last thrust into her but kept his fingers diddling her nipple. “Jubilee,” he said again.

  She was panting and squirming a bit under him, trying to work herself against him, but her efforts didn’t have a lot of effect given the way his weight held her down. “Brody.”

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “What?”

  He smiled some more. That hadn’t been a question so much as a—demand. “Jubilee.” He gave each syllable plenty of time.

  She huffed out a breath on a little shiver and kind of collapsed down onto the bed. “You said…this was the best wa
y. Connected.”

  Brody held over her now, gaze on hers, waiting.

  She worked her fingers into his, halting his action at her nipple. Her eyes cleared a bit from that sexy distraction he’d worked her into. “You said you love me.”

  “I did. I do.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Brody.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “That’s good. Shall we finish this, then?”

  “No, thanks. I’m good now.”

  He laughed out loud, happy as could be, and rolled with her. He let her take over for a bit, riding him, bringing herself to orgasm as he played with her tits and knuckled her clit. But he was back on top of her before he ended it, before he dealt her the drubbing of a fuck he needed to give her and that he needed to have.

  Chapter Ten

  Jubilee’s parents, James and Rita Reynolds, met her at the airport in Asheville. She hadn’t seen them since they’d moved from New York in midsummer, so she’d have been happy to be held in their arms no matter what.

  But it had already been a day. She’d woken to Keith’s soft kisses, followed by his gentle lovemaking. He’d whispered sweet words and touched her tenderly until, quietly but urgently, they’d both fallen into orgasm.

  All while Brody lay next to her.

  His turn came next, and he, too, loved her sweetly. He drove her into need and then distracted her with endless blather that had ultimately contained a declaration of love.

  One that she returned, once he’d nudged her into it.

  All while Keith was showering and dressing.

  They were both gone before sunrise, leaving her time to take her own shower, pack a bag, and spend a much-needed, soothing hour at her loom. Time to gather herself before facing Henry Brooks.

  There was nothing gentle or sweet about Henry that morning. He’d arrived in a Mercedes sedan. He’d knocked at her door and waited—ostensibly politely—for her to open it. With no more than a nod of greeting, he stepped inside, helped her into her coat, and took her bag. He was still silent after he settled her into the heated, leather-seat luxury of his car.

  A couple inches of fresh snow had fallen overnight. Once he got to the relatively clear highway, he took her hand. “Have you come to any kind of decision?”

  “No,” she said, not needing to ask what he was referring to.

  “Bro and Keith?” he asked.

  “They both…want to be with me,” she said.

  “You can’t be thinking of saying yes to that, can you?”

  Jubilee took her hand back and turned her face to look out her window. “I guess I can be thinking about it, Henry.” Kind of, she didn’t think it was his business to be telling her what she could or couldn’t be thinking.

  He lifted his fingers, both hands on the wheel now. “I’m sorry. I just…I wish…” He sighed. “I don’t know what I wish.”

  “Brody said that if I chose one of you, it would probably be at the cost of your friendship. It seems like I can have none of you or all of you. And you don’t want it to be all.”

  “You’re assuming my friendship with Keith and Brody is more important to me than you could be.”

  “I don’t want you to have to make that choice. I know you love them. Besides, I do, too.”

  “You love them. Both of them.”

  Jubilee sighed and then owned it. “Seems like.”

  He was quiet for the rest of the drive. Traffic was a little heavier as they neared Rochester, taking more of his attention.

  She opened her own door when he pulled up to the curb outside the terminal, but he got out and came around the car. He made as though to hand over her bag, but he kept hold of it so their hands gripped it together. They were face to face, and she looked up at him.

  “What about me?” he asked, his gaze searching hers. He went on when she didn’t answer right away. “Do you love me?”

  Jubilee took an unsteady breath. “You…kind of left me yesterday, remember?”

  “Shouldn’t that maybe be forgivable, given the circumstances? I’m here now, standing right in front of you. So tell me. Do you love me?”

  “Henry,” she said, wondering how she’d gotten herself into this fix. She touched his face, still smooth from his morning shave, then owned this, too. “Seems like.”

  Still, she’d tugged her bag from his hand, took a step back, and walked away from him.

  He so wasn’t easy.

  All of it wasn’t easy.

  So she closed her mind to it as much as possible and enjoyed the scenery and the light chatter from her parents as they drove out into the country. They were making a new home for themselves in the area, both of them busy with their art. James was a woodworker specializing in gorgeous, inlaid tables, and Rita made stained-glass windows. Jubilee knew they’d already built a studio on their land.

  She asked about Bill’s parents.

  Marnie and Aaron Wright were also artisans, both glassblowers. They’d been close friends with Jubilee’s parents since the two couples had joined the Finger Lakes Guild in their late twenties. Even without their connection to Bill, they were very dear to her, like godparents or an especially close aunt and uncle.

  Rita turned in her seat to look back at Jubilee. “They’re doing okay,” she said in an obviously measured response. “I think the move here has been good for them. Healing.” Between the seat backs, Jubilee saw her mother and father clasp hands before Rita spoke again. “They live with us, you know. We bought the house and built the studio together.”

  “No,” Jubilee said. “I didn’t know. I’m…a little surprised.” She thought about it for a moment. “More that I didn’t already know than the fact of it, I guess. I know how much you love them. It’s probably good, with the move. And with Bill’s death. It’s good you can be so much together.”

  Rita turned her gaze to James, and Jubilee met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “We weren’t really sure how it was going to work out,” he said. “But we’re very happy. I think Marnie and Aaron are, too.”

  Jubilee nodded, hating to admit to herself she felt a bit left out, but having to anyway. “I’m glad. And it will make it easy for me to see them, too.”

  They were there, then, and Jubilee smiled. She’d seen photos, of course, but it hadn’t really struck her until now how similar their place was to the home she’d grown up in and still loved. They’d bought another old Victorian—like it was a lure, the work of old craftsmen was irresistible to James. The pretty house was painted a soft gray-blue and clasped in a background of hemlock and poplar trees. As they went up the drive, Jubilee caught a glimpse of the studio farther up the hillside. It was a modern affair built of natural wood and glass.

  Inside, the house was as lovely as expected, filled with gorgeous wood and glass pieces. It was larger than Jubilee’s home, with a bedroom suite for each of the couples on main floor. Upstairs were the guest rooms where Jubilee would stay and her brother and his family, too, when they came in a few days.

  “This is beautiful, Mom,” Jubilee said. After settling into her room, she’d found Rita in the kitchen. She was rolling out biscuits, and Jubilee knew the pot on the stove would contain her mother’s famous beer beef stew.

  Even in North Carolina, dark fell early. Jubilee was setting the table for five when her father and Bill’s parents came in from the studio. She hugged Marnie and Aaron, sweet greetings that brought tears to everyone’s eyes. They ate around a big oak table mostly talking about their art, much as had happened all of Jubilee’s life.

  The two couples appeared very comfortable together, more so even than Jubilee remembered from the past. They all worked together to clean up the kitchen after dinner, and Jubilee saw the way her father touched Marnie’s back as he reached around her into the fridge. And the way Rita’s and Aaron’s upper arms touched as they stood together at the sink.

  They finished their wine in the living room, in front of the fire, and
it felt very like home. If it had been two years back, Bill would have been sitting next to Jubilee, and, during a lull in the conversation, she was pretty sure they were all having that same thought.

  Marnie was the one to put words to it first. She sat on a sofa between Aaron and Rita, and she took hold of a hand of each before she spoke. “We’re happy here, Aaron and I,” she said. “We miss Bill every day, but we’ve found a way to be happy.”

  Jubilee knew Marnie was having to work to hold tears back, and her own were threatening. “I miss him every day, as well. I’m working on being happy, too.”

  “You know that’s what we want for you.”

  “I do know that.” Jubilee dredged up a smile, but she was aware what little success she made of it.

  Aaron was notoriously a man of few words, but he spoke up. “She means she wants you to find a man and fall in love again.”

  “I…appreciate that. I realize that must be hard for you to say. And harder, I would think, if it actually happened.”

  Aaron nodded. He kept Marnie’s hand in his, but slid his other arm along the back of the couch to wrap it around her shoulder. “We’ll manage it,” he told Jubilee. She thought he might be telling Marnie, too. “We’re strong. Stronger than we knew. Just like you, eh?”

  Jubilee nodded, not sure she was going to keep the tears from falling. Yes, that was how a person learned about strength, she understood. Losing a son or, at age twenty-six, a husband.

  Curled alone on a loveseat, Jubilee gave her father-in-law a wobbly smile. Next to her, in his big easy chair that he’d moved from New York, her father put his hand out. He offered her a blue bandana, the same one in essence, if not actuality, that he’d pulled from his pocket countless times over the years to mop up tears or blood or spills, all with about exactly the same steady, understanding, generous acceptance.

  She dabbed her eyes. She might have said then that she’d met someone. She might have even used that worn out sentence, “It’s complicated.” But she didn’t, she couldn’t. Without question, she accepted the goodness and strength of Marnie’s and Aaron’s hearts. She was bone-deep sure of her parent’s love and their willingness to trust her to make good judgments.