Season of Gifts (Neighborly Affection #8)

61. Alice

Chapter sixty-one

Alice

H ow Henry and Jay could abandon a warm nest of blankets was a mystery. Grumbling, Alice swept her arms out on both sides and came up empty. The mattress hadn’t gone cold yet, so she hadn’t missed them by much. Dragging their pillows in tight, she breathed in their scents and sagged like a cooked noodle falling off the spaghetti spork.

Last night had broken the logjam. They had plenty more to talk about, but at least the information was flowing freely. The knot of anxiety in her chest had unraveled and slithered off somewhere to sulk while she basked in the relief that every problem could be solved.

Untwisting Jay’s tee around her stomach, she scooted off the bed.

A thin seam of light marked the bathroom door. She wandered closer, scrubbing at the back of her head. Water hummed steadily, the quiet drumming of the shower. Perfect. Maybe she could coax Henry or Jay into washing her hair and trade them whatever relaxing favor they wanted in return. Soft touches would be a soothing foundation for any ruffled feathers when she and Jay wrested some responsibilities away from Henry today.

“Stupid fucking…”

Jay groused like he’d slipped a wrench working on his bike.

Hand on the door handle, Alice held her breath.

“Not the damn time…”

Still Jay. Was he in there alone?

“Just go away .”

He couldn’t possibly hear her over the shower; she’d been quieter than a stalking cat. But he would never in his life aim that harsh tone at Henry.

The hum of the water changed pitch. A tenor yelp rang out.

She pawed the handle and shouldered the door open, stumbling two steps forward. Shoving the shower curtain aside, she swore at the icy water slapping her hand. A sharp yank shut that shit down immediately. “What the hell? Are you—”

Okay , she meant to say. But she didn’t need to ask.

Jay stood shivering in the tub, trying to shield his erection behind cupped hands, his arms dotted with goosebumps. His hair lay like a coat of black paint over his scalp, strands clinging to his forehead. Droplets of water flicked from his eyelashes as he blinked at her. “I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart, why?” She grabbed a towel from the rack and swung it around his shoulders. A second, folded and hung over the side of the tub, made a decent enough seat. She nudged him forward. She shouldn’t have woken up so damn happy; she’d been asking for something else to go wrong. “C’mon. Sit for me. Tell me what happened.”

Mentally crossing her fingers and praying for a malfunctioning shower wouldn’t sway the outcome, but she tried it anyway.

“I thought I should…” He bunched his fingers in the hem of her shirt—his shirt, really. “I don’t want…” He pressed his face to her stomach, mumbling incomprehensibly.

She cradled him closer, roughing his shoulders through the towel and curving her fingers against the back of his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you, honey. One more time, please.”

Burying the top of his head against her, he blew out a hard breath that whispered over her feet. “What’s wrong with me, Alice? Why can’t I just…”

Her detective skills needed more than that to go on. “Just what?”

“It’s not the time for sex and games. I don’t want to be a bother to Henry. I want to help him, like you do, you’re so good at helping and I’m stupid-fucking-Jay dreaming about cocksucking and waking up with another goddamn hard-on that won’t go away.” He bear-hugged her thighs, his shoulders heaving. “I can’t make him smile with joking and I can’t make him relax with a blowjob and there’s nothing I can do, there’s nothing…”

“Hey, hey, sweetheart…” She carefully loosened his grip and crouched in front of him. “Shhh. First, you are not stupid, or a bother, and there’s nothing wrong with you.” Tipping his chin up, she dotted his face with kisses. He hadn’t shaved yet this morning, his jawline fuzzy with stubble. “Second, what happened last night, that’s on me, not you. I made a mistake, and you got hurt because of it.”

She’d been so certain she knew what Henry needed, that reconnecting their bodies like they had in September was the answer. But that had been one night of panicking and mourning while they were missing Jay. This had been two weeks of high-intensity stress, more than she’d understood. His body needed time to stop screaming at him before that kind of relaxing would help.

She held Jay’s face in both hands and corralled his gaze. Those sweet brown eyes mesmerized her with a plea as easily as Henry did with a commanding stare. “Sweetheart, do you think you aren’t allowed to be aroused just because Henry’s not in the mood?”

The start of a shrug and the pinch of his lips spoke volumes. “His mom’s sick, and I’m sleeping in her house, and of course he’s not thinking about getting laid. But here I am, distracting him with my stupidity.”

“Not stupidity.” Fuck, tiptoeing around phrasing was Henry’s skill, not hers. Jay had the highest sex drive of any man she’d been with, sure, but he didn’t usually attack himself for it. “You’re so angry with yourself. Why all of this anger? Why the cold water?”

His showers had standing orders from Henry to take himself in hand, so— fuck . They were standing orders, but personal. Henry added nuances, like a sprinkle of cinnamon in the hot chocolate. For two weeks, Jay had been operating without anyone taking an interest. And last night, Henry had pretty definitively shut down Jay’s seduction, if she was reading correctly between the lines.

She reached out slowly, listening for any hint of objection, and brushed her knuckles along his cock. He’d lost a little firmness, but the arousal hadn’t faded, and he twitched under her touch. Widening her eyes, she lifted an eyebrow. “Why not just wake me up with this beauty?”

He flinched. Drawing his head back, he stared at the shower wall.

Fuck, she’d fucking said the wrong thing. Or done the wrong thing. “Sweetheart?”

“I didn’t...” He shook his head, eyes closing. “I wanted...” His hands balled into fists on his knees. “You shouldn’t have to...”

She stroked his forearms, trying to get those hands to relax. To get her husband to stop judging himself so harshly for a feeling she intimately understood. “You wanted Henry.”

“You’re not a substitute.” Jay’s rough whisper sent a shiver down her back. “I wouldn’t use you like that.”

“I know you wouldn’t, sweetheart. I know.” There were times for her, too, when only Henry would do. It didn’t mean she loved Jay less, or he her. If what he needed this morning was Henry’s acceptance, she would give it to him. Balancing her hands on his arms, she pushed to her feet.

“Alice?” His eyes leapt open.

“It’s okay, I promise.” She swung one leg over the tub and cozied up to his side. “Close your eyes for me.” She rubbed his back under the towel in slow circles and laid her chin on his shoulder, her mouth alongside his ear. If she did this right, her thick, throaty purr would bypass his brain utterly and dive straight to his cock. “Tell me about your dream.”