This time, when he’d flown back from San Antonio, there’d been no text from Henry asking when he was getting in. There’d been no Merry Christmas text either, or a sympathetic inquiry about how he was holding out against the hellions, which was how Henry referred to Brody’s cluster of nieces and nephews.
The ordinary deal wasn’t happening right at the moment.
So this time, when he’d arrived in Rochester, he’d called for Keith to pick him up, and he was putting up in that one’s significantly less classy, mattress-on-the-floor “guest room.”
Keith hadn’t heard from Henry over the holiday either, except that the dude showed up for Christmas Day festivities at the Hutchinson home just as he had for about ten years. Keith said it was like high school, like Henry hadn’t been ready to tell Mrs. Hutchinson that he’d broken up with her son.
There’d been no real discussion between the two guys there and no reminder about the New Year’s Eve party.
Brody and Keith had talked it over several times during the last few days. If Henry was going to break up with them, they decided, he was going to have to do it to their faces. If he didn’t want them at his party, he was going to have to toss them out into the cold himself.
Brody asked Keith numerous times to stop using the phrase “break up,” but he’d had to finally let it pass.
Whatever, he thought, as his gaze took in Jubilee. If their buddy could toss this vision out into the cold, well, Brody and Keith would know exactly what to do with her.
Brody was looking forward to it, in fact.
The guys had limited themselves to heavy petting when they’d gotten Jubilee home. They all had to get gussied up, and there was only one bathroom. So they’d fed their girl a light dinner, listened to that extremely helpful and inspiring story about her parents and her former in-laws getting a foursome deal going on—bless their hearts—and pretty much waited for Juby to get ready.
She was totally worth the wait. Brody congratulated himself on what a good job shopping he’d done.
Though she seemed to have a different opinion when she came out of Keith’s bedroom all glorious-looking.
“Really?” she asked, when she stood in the doorway. “What’s the temperature outside?”
Keith said, “Seven degrees.” But his nose was in his phone, so Brody nudged him to take a look. Then, “Oh.”
“‘Oh,’ my ass,” Brody said. He stood up and gawked a bit. “You look”—there was no other word for it—“spectacular.”
She did, but he got her point about the cold. She was in a little cocktail dress—emphasis on little. He’d had to work through an awful lot of basic black to find the dress that did Jubilee justice. He’d gone with a shimmery blue, reminding him of an evening sky in Sedona. The beading on it was a work of art, like spending the night atop Cathedral Rock and watching the stars swirl around the earth. The bodice covered her breasts but left a fair tease of cleavage, and the thin straps that went over her shoulders—Brody had circled his finger in signal, so he got a look—crossed along her back, which was bared all the way to just below the waist. The scalloped hem ended quite a ways above her knees, so, between the low back and the zippered slit up the center, the dress left her ass enticingly within reach.
If you were the kind of guy who liked to get his hands on a woman’s ass. Which he was.
Lord, their girl had curves.
He’d done okay with the shoes, too. They were four-inch heels in silvery blue. Jubilee didn’t go much for high heels—he’d checked her closet—and Brody couldn’t blame her. He figured she’d consider them ridiculously uncomfortable and injury-causing.
Too bad they were so damn sexy.
Tonight she’d have two men at her side to make sure she didn’t wobble. Plus, if she wanted to kick them off when they got to dancing, so much the better.
He had a solution for the little dress and the big cold, too.
“I can see,” he told her, “why you’d be concerned about the weather…if we hadn’t got you this.” He walked to Keith’s tiny front closet as he spoke and took out a coat. He held out so she could slide into it.
“Oh,” she said, which he took to be another significant understatement.
The thing was gorgeous, if he had to say so himself. In slightly off-white wool, it had a snug, tailored top and then a wide flare of skirt that fell to her ankles. It was trimmed at collar and cuffs with white fur and was embroidered with white and silver snowflakes. Another work of art for their girl who was all about beautiful fabrics.
Jubilee shuddered with pleasure as she slipped it on. “This is wonderful.” She looked up at him with a smile that warmed his soul. She did a little spin, her fingers catching at the swirl of her skirt. “It’s beautiful. Thank you. I feel like…like a Russian snow princess.”
Brody grinned. “Well, for that, you’d need these.” He handed her a white fur hat and then a muff.
She laughed even as she took them. “Of course I would.”
She looked sweet as could be, their snow princess, with just a few wisps of her black hair visible beneath the hat and the red of her lips a hot splash of color.
“Thank you,” she said again, seriously, leaning up—though not so much, with the heels—to kiss him.
Turning to Keith, she extended another kiss. She had an inch or two on him now, with the heels, but neither one seemed to care.
“Thank you,” she said again and looked from Keith back to Brody. “You don’t have to buy me things.”
“He let me buy the muff,” Keith put in, making her smile.
Brody probably would buy her stuff, and she’d probably get used to it. But this current situation hadn’t been an indulgence so much as necessity. “You’re walking uninvited into Henry’s party tonight, on our arms,” he pointed out. “You got a dress in your roller bag that will stand up to that?”
She took a breath, no doubt reminded the night would take some courage. “No, I don’t. Thank you for helping me feel…armed.” Opening the coat, she moved her fingers over the dress. “This is beautiful. Perfect.”
Brody had been certain she’d appreciate the texture of the rough silk overlaid with beads. He tried not to get distracted by what her hands were doing. Apparently, though, that was a fail, because he realized he’d lost track of the conversation.
Keith was telling her how Brody had developed woman-dressing skills. He spun it pretty well, making it funny at Brody’s expense, but Brody just went back to admiring his handiwork and didn’t care much.
His mother was a free-spirited hippie at heart, though she’d been born a bit late for it. Luckily, she’d married her high school sweetheart, and, though Brody’s father indulged her in nearly every way, he was a practical-minded, grounded engineer. Janie Connors could raise her kids on organic, whole foods, homeschool them through middle school, and celebrate each full moon with a family midnight walk, but Richard Connors kept them living in a house rather than a teepee. And he got them into high school for the advanced math and science courses he figured they—his son and the three girls who followed—needed if they were going to know anything about how the world worked.
Janie wore long, full skirts, Birkenstocks, no makeup, and usually no bra. She had the sweetest heart in the world, but, when it came time for the girls to doll up for prom or whatever, she was absolutely zero help.
Through no particular sense of rebellion, Brody had found girlfriends among the girlie girls. He just liked them—the look and smell of them, the enticing pleasure they took in the femaleness of their lovely bodies. Yeah, he’d taken it too far when he’d married one when he was twenty-two. Over the long term, Candace’s pretty looks couldn’t make up for what turned out to be a fairly lazy mind and stingy heart.
It was the stingy heart that had turned out to be toughest to live with.
So, he’d learned and moved on, and the woman he was looking at now was bright and warm-hearted and gorgeous all at once. She had a fair bit of spunk, too. He was sure hi
s mother would like her, rather than turn up her nose like she’d done—politely, even so—with Candace. His ex hadn’t been smart enough to get it. Though she had been smart enough to get, before he did, that he couldn’t love her like she needed.
Anyway, that was how he’d learned about what made girls and women look and feel good. And how he’d become the best resource his sisters had. When it came time for each of them to start high school, he’d done the clothes shopping with them and wandered the sports section of department stores while they’d sat at the beauty counter learning makeup.
He’d dressed them for their dances and proms.
It was a natural progression from that, though Keith made more of it than necessary in telling the story, for Brody to coordinate the occasional makeover of the nerdy girls he’d studied with and still worked alongside. Inevitably, for most of them, there came a time when their interest in a guy—or another girl—motivated a late-blooming attention to clothes and makeup. He wasn’t exactly famous for it, but, yeah, he’d helped a handful of programmers and game developers get their girl on.
He knew who he had to work with, and he never took it over the top. Though, sometimes, a certain amount of cajoling was involved.
He was good at it, and he enjoyed it. Not as much as gaming—it would never be, like, a second career or anything—but he had fun at it. And he especially loved it when there was as much potential to work with as Jubilee possessed.
She was kind of his dream girl.
But time was a-wasting and they had a party to crash. Brody and Keith were already in moderately good dress-up clothes—humorously, Brody thought, just about exactly what they were wearing the night they showed up unexpectedly at someone else’s house. Jubilee’s.
Well, the second time they’d showed up there unexpectedly.
So he took from his pocket the last couple things he’d bought for their pretty woman—things Keith hadn’t seen yet. They were a necklace and earring set, so clearly meant for the dress that he hadn’t been able to resist.
Keith rolled his eyes and said, “Dude,” at the same time Jubilee said a blunt, “No.”
She was the first to speak again—“Just, no”—but he answered Keith first.
“You bring other things to the party.”
Keith looked at Jubilee. “You think he’s talking about my big dick?”
She laughed but gave her attention to Brody when he spoke again. “I have money, and this is what I want to do with it. And remember—Henry.”
With a little sigh, she stood still for him while he fastened the rope of sapphires and diamonds around her neck. Her eyes were on him, though. “Are you setting aside for your retirement? Paying your employees well? Covering their health care?”
He grinned and took care of replacing her earrings, too. Carelessly, he put the classic pearl studs he took from her in his pocket. “Yes, Mom.”
She was serious, though. “I mean it.”
He nodded. “So do I.” His hands on her shoulders, he took a little step back. “You’re perfect. Beautiful. Let’s go knock Henry on his ass.”
Pleasing him, she had to stop by a mirror to admire herself before she walked out with them, a hand on each man’s arm.
No matter who else was there that night, she was going to be the prettiest thing climbing out of a badass pickup truck.
Chapter Twelve
Jubilee sat between Brody and Keith, snuggled warmly in her fantastic snow fairy coat and ridiculously sweet hat and muff.
Though they hadn’t spoken of it, she knew exactly what the men were doing. Having geared her up sexily, extravagantly, they were going to flaunt her in front of Henry.
It was a gambit. She sensed Brody’s game-playing mind behind it, though certainly all three men would have learned man-game strategy in their college hockey careers.
They were going to show Henry what they had. And what he could have, if he wanted to join them.
She knew without their saying so that they would do nothing to hide the fact that she was with both of them. They weren’t intending to be subtle.
But there was a more important significance to their actions. They were putting her first, over their friendship with Henry. Jubilee felt the heavy burden of that but accepted it was their choice to make. For herself, she would honor what was in her heart. If Brody and Keith would both love her, she would love them back.
Henry would have to make his own choice. However it happened, she would accept his decision and do her best to support the friendship among the three men. She wouldn’t come between them if she could help it.
Brody pulled over outside a beautiful home that was brightly lit up. Decorative white lights adorned the trees and shrubs, enough that she could see the lovely winter landscaping. The house was composed of wood and stone with a pretty, columned front porch, interesting roof lines, and a lighted deck that started along the west side and wrapped around the back, to the south, as well. On the second floor, a couple small balconies or cut-out porches were visible.
Keith boosted her down from the pickup and held her there in the lee of the door, his hands still at her waist. “Ready for this?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“No pressure,” he said with a quirk of a grin.
“Right.”
But he gripped her firmly. “I mean it. I love you. Brody loves you. Whatever else happens, we’re good.”
She gave another nod, this one more certain. “Thank you, Keith.”
“You love me, too.”
“I love you, too.”
“Let’s go kick ass.”
She smiled and went with him, pretty sure if she was a guy they’d have exchanged high-fives and butt-pats. She thought maybe Keith had just given her her first coach’s pep talk.
The circular drive was already full of vehicles. The three of them picked their way among the cars—Jubilee steadied by a helping hand on either side—and went up the walkway that traversed pretty stone terraces to the entry.
There was a double door at the end of the porch, and so she did, indeed, step into Henry’s house on the arms of her two men. The house was pretty swank, and the party was, too. Uniformed staff greeted them at the door to take their coats, and caterers passed trays of hors d’oeuvres and flutes filled with champagne.
Jubilee was aware the three of them made a fair entrance. She handed her hat and muff to the help first, so, by the time she was unbuttoning her coat, Henry’s gaze had found her. He was across the big living area, near the glass doors that went to the deck. The entry was a couple steps up from the rest of the space, so she assumed he had a pretty good view of her.
Brody and Keith had prettied her up, so she determined to make the most of it. Deliberately, she slowed her fingers on the buttons, though she figured snow princesses didn’t normally go in for stripteases. Warm, male hands helped her out of it on either side, and Brody seemed to find it necessary to run his lips along her neck at the same time.
Then he took the coat away, and Keith grasped her waist again, turning her for a kiss. She made the most of the turn, so, when Keith moved one hand closer to the territory of her ass, Henry would be sure to get a look at the back of the dress. And her ass, if he cared to have a peek.
She turned again and, holding a hand on either side, she stepped down into the party. By the last step, Henry was there in front of her. He must have abandoned the little cluster of women he’d been entertaining pretty abruptly.
He stopped a good pace away, though, a distance that precluded any kind of touch. His gaze left hers to take in Keith, then Brody. “I’m glad you came,” he said, finally, into the little silence. He was still looking at Brody. “I…expected you here sooner.”
“I’m bunking with Keith this time,” Brody said.
“That’s not necessary,” Henry offered. “You’re welcome here.”
Brody nodded. “Good to know.”
Then Henry’s gaze was on Jubilee, running down her body and slowly bac
k up in a way that was mighty satisfying.
“You look amazing,” he told her.
“Thank you.”
“Your family is good?”
Jubilee smiled, feeling the squeeze of her hands from both sides. “They are.”
Henry waved them in, the movement a bit awkward compared to his usual grace. “Come in,” he said. “Keith and Brody, I expect you know most everyone. Jubilee, may I introduce you around?”
He held out an arm then, his green eyes steady on hers.
Brody answered first. “Sure.” He took Jubilee’s fingers to his mouth and kissed them in a sweet, courtly gesture. He crossed behind her and slapped Keith’s shoulder. “Let’s find food, buddy.”
Keith was still looking at Henry. Relenting finally, he said, “Sure,” too. But before he let go of her hand, he leaned in and kissed her. “See you in a bit, baby.”
Henry turned when she put her hand on his arm and led her into the happy crowd. He covered her fingers with his for a brief moment, securing her more to his liking, apparently. “These are mostly my work group,” he said. “Some are college or grad school friends. I don’t have any family here. Or anywhere, really.”
“I know, Henry.” She pressed his arm sympathetically. Keith and Brody were his family.
He broke into several groups and made introductions, though Jubilee noticed that the little fan club of women he’d been with originally had dispersed by the time they reached the doors to the deck. Everyone was friendly and cheerful, clearly enjoying the last of the holiday parties.
Clearly, also, they respected and enjoyed Henry. He was well-liked.
After a while, he held her hand and kept her more to himself. He found wine for her and shared a plate of food. Later, when the music he must have programmed for the night turned slow and sultry, he asked her to dance.
They weren’t alone on the little dance floor that she assumed usually held his dining table. But they might have been. The space was lit only by the lights out on the deck, including small, glittering trees in containers scattered there. He held her close, intimately, though their bodies didn’t quite touch. His lips were close to hers when he spoke.
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