Room at the Edge (39 page)

“He knows there’s a chance we’d be naked. He’d call or text us. And he wouldn’t do that to us. Not when he knows how much we’ve missed him.” Jay sounded so sure about it, his trust in Liam absolute. Austin felt a surge of relief that Jay’s attitude had changed for the better when it came to Liam. The weird thing was he thought Jay was even more relieved, as if he’d been silently begging for Liam to take him in hand and desperately grateful when Liam had listened.

The door opened a short way; then Liam called out plaintively, “Can someone help me here? My arms are full.”

Austin leaped forward and pulled the door open wide, then reached out to rescue a small box balanced precariously on top of a stack of other items in Liam’s arms.

“Careful with that,” Liam said. “It’s a crystal paperweight. God knows what I’ll do with it, but I suppose it was a nice thought.”

The quiet house was suddenly filled with voices and noise. Austin was swept along with it and part of it, adding his greetings to Jay’s once Liam had deposited his gifts on the kitchen table, crowding in close as Liam gathered them both to him for a hug. He smelled of cold air and frost, his face cool against Austin’s lips.

“The car got stuffy, and I was falling asleep, so I opened the window,” he explained when Austin commented on it. “Someone make me coffee, please? I’ll bring in the rest of the stuff from the car since you two aren’t dressed.”

“Didn’t seem worth it,” Jay said with a demure look at Liam. “Not if we’ll be back in bed soon.”

Liam dealt out a playful slap to Jay’s ass, a broad grin on his face. “Thinking about what I plan to do to you both was another way I kept myself awake. Late night, early start. Not a good combination.”

“You’re home now,” Austin said and took one last kiss before Liam went to get his suitcase, marveling at how smooth Liam’s chin was. The guy would take time to shave with a tornado on the way.

He turned to unpack the paper bag Liam had been carrying. At the top were a couple of books—proof Liam hadn’t taken his time in packing, since if he had, they would have been at the bottom where they belonged. One was a mystery Liam would probably enjoy; the other was an inspirational story about some man who’d made a cross-country trek, exactly the kind of thing Liam dismissed as sentimental drivel.

Under the books were three pairs of thick, wool-blend socks unlike the dress socks Liam usually wore under his very expensive shoes. They were still wrapped in their shiny cardboard sleeves. Austin wondered if Liam would ever wear them or if they’d be relegated to the back of his sock drawer for years.

“Hey, cookies!” Jay had peeked inside a metallic red gift bag. “Liam, can I have these cookies?” he called toward the garage.

“Of course,” Liam said, coming back around the corner without his suitcase—he must have set it down in the hall. “I can’t vouch for their quality, but Ben suddenly decided in the last few months he’s going to be a pastry chef and he’d start by baking all his gifts this year. I managed to make the excuse that I was watching my waistline.”

“You’re an idiot.” Jay spoke through a mouthful of cookie. “These are amazing. Austin, try one.” He held what looked like a chocolate-dipped sugar cookie out toward Austin, who took it and bit into it. It was amazing; it tasted like butter and almonds. The chocolate was bittersweet, and the cookie crumbled delicately. Austin caught the crumbs in his hand, not wanting to waste them.

“That good?” Liam asked with a bemused look on his face as Austin swallowed the last of the cookie and licked his palm clean of the crumbs. “Maybe I owe him an apology.”

“He’s your son,” Austin pointed out. “If he takes after you, he doesn’t do anything unless he can do it better than anyone else.”

That got him Liam’s full attention. For a moment they stared at each other. Then Liam said softly, “Thank you,” leaving Austin tingling with pleasure at putting that stunned, grateful expression on Liam’s face.

“Coffee’s brewing,” Jay said. “Want to go through to the family room, and I’ll bring it in with some more of the cookies?”

“If we leave you in here with them, will there be any left to bring?” Liam asked.

Jay grinned. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Ben will be delighted they were so popular. I’ll be delighted if you leave us some,” Liam said pointedly but with too much affectionate underlying his words for them to come close to a reproof.

By the time Liam had shed his coat and shoes, freshened up, and changed into a sweater, the dark cranberry color unexpectedly good on him, the coffee was ready. Liam took his usual place between them on the couch and chatted as he drank his first cup and ate two of Ben’s cookies with evident approval.

“It was great seeing them, but the whole time I was there, I kept thinking of you,” he told them after Jay had brought him a refill. “I know I was only gone for three days and we managed a few phone calls, but it still felt as if I was in the wrong place.” He set down his mug after a sip and took Austin’s hand, his fingers warm and strong. “How did it go with your mother?”

“You had to ask,” Austin groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. “I don’t know. Okay, I guess. It was awkward, but it could have been worse. She wasn’t rude to Jay, at least. Um, she wasn’t, was she?”

Jay shook his head. He’d curled up, his feet on the couch, half-tucked under him. “She was fine. Maybe a little awkward, like you said, but like she was trying to be normal, pretend she hadn’t learned anything about me she didn’t like. If that makes sense.”

“It does,” Liam said. “On some level it’s a shame we couldn’t have hidden it from her for longer. She would have been happier.”

“But I would have been more stressed.” Austin eyed the last two cookies but told himself sternly that he’d had enough. He’d eaten at least half a dozen cookies yesterday—although to be fair none of them had been very good. If he’d had a little more self-control then, he could have eaten these now with a clear conscience. “I mean, I don’t like lying to her. But sometimes it’s easier.”

“There are some things parents prefer not to know about their children,” Liam said, patting his knee. “And April?”

“She’s kind of like a different person,” Jay offered. “Only not. She still can’t cook.” He was grinning at Austin, clearly remembering the gravy debacle. “But she’s nicer. Or…well. Like she was always nice, underneath, but she was miserable on top, and that made her a bitch.”

“She’s never had a reason to be miserable.” Austin knew it was stupid to object, mostly because Jay was right on one level. “Her whole life has been easy.”

“Thanks in large part to you.” Liam shook his head. “Never mind. It occurs to me that you’re either showing superhuman levels of patience about your presents, or you’ve peeked at them while I was away.”

“Sir! We wouldn’t.” Jay was blushing an adorably guilty shade of pink. He saw Austin’s knowing grin and said hotly, “It’s not peeking if you see your name on something and pick it up. That’s traditional. It’s allowed.”

“He’s been good, Sir,” Austin said, reaching across Liam to pat Jay’s cheek. “We both have. We took a few presents with us to open at my mom’s, but we saved the important ones to open with you.”

The tree was small, but the woodsy scent filled the room, and it was beautifully shaped, the branches evenly distributed and the needles a glossy dark green. Jay and Austin had decorated it when Liam was at work, but it had a little of all of them on it. The golden strands of lights, the delicate icy sparkle of the star on the top—they were Liam in Austin’s opinion, providing structure and a focal point. The scatter of red and green baubles, traditional, warmly bright, were his, and the twisted, fantastic shapes Jay had made from copper wire, beads, and feathers were unmistakably the work of an artist.

Under it lay a scatter of gifts, wrapped with varying levels of skill. Jay, for all his deft fingers, couldn’t fold paper around a box with any dexterity at all.

 “It’s the tape,”
he’d explained, shaking his hand to dislodge a piece clinging stubbornly to his fingers.
“It hates me. We’re mortal enemies. If you wrap everything that isn’t for you, I’ll do the dishes for two days.”

 “Deal,”
Austin had agreed promptly.

“So shall we take it in turns to open them?” Jay asked.

“Sure,” Austin said. “Who goes first?”

“I’m not pulling rank on you at Christmas,” Liam said. “Let me see. Hm, how about that little blue one on the end there?”

“That is for you,” Jay said, getting up and going to fetch it. “Now who peeked?”

“I admit nothing,” Liam said.

“‘He knows when you’ve been naughty…’” Austin sang, breaking off when Liam began to tickle him. “Ow! Sir! I’m still full from breakfast.”

The next hour passed by too quickly. Each gift was opened and praised, breaks to kiss were frequent, and Austin endured the buildup of torn paper on the carpet without commenting on the mess. For this one day, it didn’t matter.

When the last of the presents under the tree had been unwrapped, Jay cleared his throat, his nervousness plain to Austin’s eyes. God, he hoped Liam appreciated how many hours of work had gone into the diorama. He’d admired Jay’s work in the past but without showing more than polite interest. “Everything I gave you was just little stuff, Sir. Your real present’s in the basement. Would…would you like to see it?”

Liam reached out and squeezed Jay’s hand. “Of course I would. Lead the way.”

The three of them trooped downstairs; it wasn’t until they got to the bottom of the staircase that Jay shivered. “Should have put a shirt on.”

“Here, have this.” Liam shrugged out of his sweater, leaving him in just his button-down shirt, and handed it to Jay.

“It’ll be too big,” Jay said but put it on anyway, then stood there looking like a little kid wearing his older brother’s castoffs. “I look stupid.”

“I like it.” Liam pulled him close and kissed him.

Austin smiled, realizing they were technically all wearing Liam’s shirts, though Liam hadn’t commented on the T-shirt he had on.

“Okay, come on.” Jay tugged at Liam’s hand and led him toward the table where the diorama was neatly covered with a clean sheet that had a big red bow strategically balanced on it. He shifted back and forth from one foot to the other nervously.

“Relax,” Liam advised. “I’m sure I’ll love it. Whatever it is.” He frowned and looked at the outline, tilting his head to one side. “Is it sports related?”

“Not really,” Austin told him when Jay didn’t answer. “Maybe you should just see it. Should he just see it?”

“Remember when you came downstairs and I yelled at you?” Liam nodded, and Jay touched the sheet, then drew back his hand as if it were hot. “I was working on this; that was why. I didn’t want you to see it.”

Austin loved Liam’s face when it was set in stern lines, but he loved it more when it softened as it did now.

“I understand why you snapped, and I’m sorry I almost spoiled the surprise. But I can see it now?”

“You probably won’t like it,” Jay muttered.

Liam gave a growl of pure exasperation and strode forward, taking the sheet off carefully, making every effort not to snag it. Jay stepped back, his gaze fixed on Liam, his lip caught between his teeth, and Austin held his breath.

The diorama was detailed enough to repay anyone willing to spend a while studying it, but even the initial sight was impressive. Austin hadn’t seen it for a while; Jay had kept it hidden from him as it neared completion. He drifted over to stand by Liam, taking in the dozens of tiny toys laid out on shelves, the realistically rendered walls and floor. He wanted to shrink down and step inside the scene, but in a way he was already there. He could see the miniature version of himself, kneeling in front of a Dom holding a thin strip of leather in his hand. A collar. The figurine representing Jay was tied to a whipping post, bare to the waist, his head turned to look at them, a collar already circling his neck.

“My God,” Liam said quietly after a long silence that was somehow like applause. “Jay, I’m overwhelmed. Truly. It’s incredible. I don’t have the words to tell you how much I love it.” He reached out, stroking his fingertip over a black leather chair, high backed and deep, without arms. “Imagine me sitting in this and having you over my knee, with plenty of room to swing my hand or a paddle. Or making you ride me, Austin, so slowly you were sobbing by the end, begging me to touch your cock.” He gave a shuddering sigh, his delight in his gift plain, and turned, crooking his finger at Jay, who’d retreated to the wall, his face pinched with anxiety. “Come here. Please? I want you to show me everything.”

If Austin hadn’t already been in love with Liam, the man’s careful, tender treatment of Jay over the next fifteen minutes would have been enough to make him fall. Austin could barely pay attention to the diorama—which, to be fair, he’d already spent hours admiring. He was too focused on Liam’s face as Liam smiled widely, asked Jay questions, listened to the answers, and offered compliment after compliment.

Slowly Jay relaxed. The tense line of his shoulders rounded out, and he stopped tucking his hair behind his ears every ten seconds. “And this cabinet opens,” he was saying, and reached to demonstrate. “Only some of the toys fit inside, but I thought they looked better on the shelves anyway?”

“Much better,” Liam agreed. “You should always trust your instincts about things like that.”

Jay grinned and took half a step closer to Liam, who immediately put an arm around him. “They have little water bottles, see? So they stay hydrated. They’re made from beads, and then I shrank and printed the labels and cut them out with a craft knife. I must have cut out at least a dozen trying to get three that weren’t crooked or frayed at the edges.”

“It’s amazing. It must have taken hundreds of hours.” Liam was still wide-eyed, marveling. It made Austin want to kiss him.

Hell, it made Austin want to kneel down and kiss his feet. He couldn’t help but feel the same sort of gratitude and wonder that was written all over Liam’s face. “Three hundred at least,” Austin said.

“It was a labor of love.” Jay’s voice was soft and dreamy.