Crossing the Lines (4 page)

“It’s okay. They were mine first. I can show you how to use them.” Jay hadn’t stopped grinning.

“So, umm, what do you use them for?” She peered through them. Oh. Right. Lens caps. She pulled the binoculars away and fiddled with them.

“Me an’ Henry go camping in the summer sometimes. On weekends. He likes to bird-watch on Saturday mornings. But that’s so not for me. Too boring.”

Henry cleared his throat. “Well. That’s—”

“I’d rather bike. Or kayak. Or anything other than sitting still for hours. Being hurt? It’s totally like bird-watching. But I thought, an’ I thought, an’ I thought, and the perfect gift came to me.”

“Jay, perhaps—”

“I’m giving you the binoculars ’cause now you’ll camp with us, and you can sit still for hours with Henry. It’s perfect.”

Henry sucked in a breath like he might choke.

Oh my God.
She couldn’t look at him. Summer was five months away. Jay expected she’d not only still be in their arrangement but that she’d join them on trips? No way did he have that authority.

“You might have mentioned the purpose of your gift in advance, my dear boy.” Utter neutrality left Henry’s voice almost unrecognizable.

Would he ask her to go with? Or arrange their camping weekends on Fridays she didn’t spend with them? Great. Now she’d host a daily parade of worries about something that wouldn’t be a question for months, if it ever was.

Jay’s smile dimmed. “Are you mad at me?”

Henry exhaled, his soft puff rippling as though it held back a storm. “Never for long, my boy. It’s a fine gift, and I’m certain Alice will find a use for it.”

“Absolutely.” She faked a cheerful tone and a matching grin. “It’ll be great for spotting architectural details. I’ll take you on a tour downtown sometime.”

Henry excused himself to attend to dinner, his back rigid as he walked away. Maybe he thought she expected an invitation from Jay, on drugs, no less, to be binding. The math added up to Henry not wanting her to join them.

Jay patted her shoulder. “Don’t you wanna go camping? If you don’t like bird-watching either, it’s okay. We’ll make Henry stay in bed later.”

“No, I like camping fine, Jay.” She launched into a story about camping with her sister on their aunt and uncle’s ranch, ending with two screaming girls fleeing a flash flood after a leaky water tank burst open.

She figured he’d laugh. Not enough to hurt his ribs, but a chuckle. Instead, he eyed her with solemn intensity. “Don’t worry, Alice. Henry would never let that happen. He’ll take good care of you.”

She forced a laugh of her own. “He takes excellent care of you, that’s for sure. Tell the truth—the warm socks were his idea, right?”

He wiggled his toes. “Yup. You want some?”

From his chaotic bedroom? “Umm, no. Thanks, but my socks are warm enough. Not so stylish as yours, of course.”

“But you could have some like mine. Henry would give ’em to you. Just ask.” He shouted, “Right, Henry?”

She winced along with Jay. The movement must’ve aggravated his ribs.

“Please don’t shout, my boy.” Henry’s voice carried easily from the kitchen. “It’s not good for your health.”

“But you’d give Alice socks if she wanted, right?” Jay didn’t quite shout, though his voice rang in her ears.

“Are your feet cold, Alice?”

“No, I’m fine. I don’t need anything.” She mock-glared at Jay. “Jay is teasing me, I think.”

“He does enjoy teasing. I would hope he’s minding his manners at least somewhat, however. Jay, you recall we discussed appropriate boundaries for this evening. Relaxed does not mean nonexistent. Alice is being very generous with her time tonight.”

“I know, Henry.” Jay sighed. “I just said if she wanted something I have and she asked you for it, you’d give it to her, too. Like…comfy socks.”

The lengthy silence roused her curiosity enough to bring her up to her knees. Henry stood at the kitchen island, facing their direction with his eyes closed. Doing nothing. Just breathing. She hunched back down.

“If and when Alice decides she wants socks, Jay, I will provide them.” Weariness bled between his words. “Until then, please stop trying to force her into them. I doubt she appreciates it.”

“It’s okay, Jay.” She squeezed his good hand. “I’ll be sure to ask for socks when I want some, all right?”

He rolled his eyes, a petulant child missing only the tongue sticking out. “No you won’t. Your feet are cold. You need socks. You’d be happier if Henry would just tell you to put them on, and so would he.” He wriggled his toes. “I am.”

“Jay.” Henry’s sharp tone cut off in an instant.

Her desire to comfort Henry warred with the understanding that he hadn’t wanted her to see him upset on Wednesday. She didn’t want to disrespect Henry. He was the only man she’d ever met who was so worthy of respect.

Jay’s shoulder made an excellent blind. Henry had his back to them. His bowed head and slumped shoulders resurrected her concern. One hand rested on the far counter beside the stove, as if he couldn’t hold himself up. He’d raised the other to his face.

She launched herself halfway to her feet before indecision caught up with her. How far did relaxed boundaries go? He hadn’t gone over safewords. She could say she wanted a glass of water. Lie. To Henry.
Not gonna happen.

“Enough, please, Jay.” His voice had regained its lightness. “Alice is likely as tired of hearing about your sock obsession as I am.”

She didn’t buy it. Stressed and upset, he’d tried to cover with humor. But the moment passed as Henry moved. She dropped to the pillow in a flash.

“You’d be happier,” Jay grumbled.

Henry hadn’t been kidding about Jay’s moods. Worse than her little sister with a cold. Not as bad as her father, thank God, but bored, cranky and turning every conversational topic into a battle. Henry deserved a break.

Swallowing her annoyance, she tried light chatter, avoiding the growing list of Things Not To Mention, which now included socks and camping, of all things. Jay’s short responses and turned-away face made her effort meaningless. She should’ve agreed to put on some fucking socks.

“Alice,” Henry finally called. “Come and fetch a plate, please.”

She smiled at Jay and rose to her feet. She’d explain to Henry he didn’t need to worry, because she hadn’t taken the camping invitation any more seriously than she’d taken Jay’s babbling about socks. Sweet Jay, wanting to make things fair. Henry didn’t need to take her camping just because he took Jay.

“Come back soon, okay?” Jay gazed up at her with sad eyes. “I’m hungry.”

She squeezed his good hand. “Quick as I can.”

When she reached the kitchen and started to speak, Henry held up his hand in a “stop” motion. He studied her with an unfathomable expression. Pained, almost.

The desire to hug him hummed beneath her skin. But not if she’d make him uncomfortable. Break his in-charge image with too much vulnerability.

“Alice, do you recall what you told me this afternoon when we spoke?”

“Yes, Henry.”

He raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to elaborate.

“I said I needed to take care of you both tonight.”

“You also asked how such a scenario might not focus on your needs. How such submission might be different from other nights.” Resting his hand flat on the counter, he tapped his thumb in rapid, minuscule rhythm.

The night’s nonsexual start already marked a difference. Friendliness didn’t bother her. It was nice. But Henry’s uncharacteristic motion bothered her. She wanted to do more. She nodded.

“I think you need to appreciate that difference more fully.”

“Like Jay thinks I need comfy socks?” Maybe teasing would draw him out. Get him to tell her to drop to her knees. A blowjob would cure his stress. “So you’re going to provide some?”

He frowned. “I don’t expect you’ll find these socks comfortable. But I would like for you to think about that difference. Can you do that for me?”

“I’ll do my best, Henry.” Uncomfortable socks. Was this still about the camping thing?

“Thank you, Alice.” He pointed to the counter. “Load the tray and bring it to the living room, please. I’ve made enough for three.”

“We’re all eating now?” Feeding Jay first on Wednesday, they’d had time to sit together with their meal and talk afterward. “I thought—”

His hand, palm front, stopped her cold. “Jay has been granted relaxed boundaries tonight because of his circumstances, Alice. You have not.”

He’d praised her for her initiative before, even if he controlled their activities.

“Your independent thought is not required, only your obedience. Surely you didn’t mean to question my instructions. Perhaps you feel I was unclear?”

Holy shit. Throat tight, she rushed to shake her head lest he take her silence for insubordination.

Beyond different. Callous, dismissive words from Henry’s lips confused her. But his tone lacked anger. He prodded. Like reminding a puppy to sit and stay.

“No, Henry.” His tired vulnerability had morphed to distant dominance. As if her ability to listen and obey defined her purpose. Bewildering. “I’m sorry.”

“If you’ve already eaten, contrary to my instructions, simply bring enough for two.” He gestured at the counter. “Shepherd’s pie. No side dishes required. Water will suffice for everyone to drink. You know where the cutlery is. I’ll be with Jay if you have further questions.”

He ignored her as he strode around the far side of the kitchen island. She rated no higher than a servant. A piece of furniture. Kneeling with swift precision, he nuzzled Jay’s cheek and whispered in his ear, a tableau of tenderness. For two.

The starry granite counter invited her to fall into the void. He hadn’t looked at her sexually or called her his dear. He wasn’t planning to dine alone with her. He didn’t care if she dined at all, unless it meant she’d gone against his instructions.

Except he hadn’t once sounded angry with her. If the gift upset him because Jay believed Henry owed her something or her miserable failure to comfort him Wednesday bothered him, he wasn’t punishing either of them for it. He intended to teach her something.

“Alice, don’t dawdle,” Henry called. “Jay is waiting.”

She loaded the tray with three bowls of shepherd’s pie. They had a name, the round serving-size ceramic dishes that went in the oven. Henry would know.
For God’s sake, don’t ask him. That would be independent thought, and we can’t have that, now can we?

She added glasses and poured water from the refrigerator. Snatching three spoons from the drawer and napkins from the holder on the counter on her way, she carried the tray to the living room. Her floor pillow had gone missing.

“On the coffee table, Alice.” Henry sat behind Jay, providing support, and Jay seemed content despite the turned-off TV. Of course he did. He had Henry’s arms around him. What could hurt him there?

The table had been pulled closer to the couch. Round impressions in the rug marked where it belonged. She set the tray down.

“Leave room for yourself to sit, Alice.”

She pushed the tray over and sat.

“Alice always gets to be on the table.” Jay’s laugh vibrated with nerves. “It’s ’cause she tastes so good, right, Henry?”

“You’ve often said so, my boy. But Alice won’t be your meal this evening. She’s simply serving it.” Henry’s formal nod and empty eyes painted a portrait of exile. “You may begin, Alice.”

She picked up a bowl and spoon. Cuddling with Jay, watching her with disdain, Henry didn’t extend a hand to take it.

“I, umm, did you want to take yours while I help Jay?” Fear of a reprimand seized her. Unquestioning obedience fail. How dare she try understanding his needs.

“No. If I had wanted to do that, I would have told you, Alice.”

They’d lost something beyond the sex. Where was her spark of joy from obeying Henry? He didn’t seem pleased with her, and she wasn’t pleased with herself. Taken together, the displeasure left her hollow.

“Do you find my instructions lacking? Perhaps you’re incapable of following them?”

Prodding her again. With disappointment? Disapproval? Boredom? She opened her mouth to answer, and he waved a hand.