Season of Gifts (Neighborly Affection #8)

82. Jay

Chapter eighty-two

Jay

N ine people crowding the entryway was a squeeze, even for Henry’s mom’s house. Jay hugged the wall beside Alice, doling out high-fives every time Mia marched past with an on-its-last-legs purple stuffed cat. Brooke bounced Riley on her hip; the baby was headed for her afternoon nap once they finished their goodbyes. She was about the age of Bethie’s youngest. Be weird not watching Gracie grow every year and sharing in the excitement when she was ready for her first bike.

The new home health nurse waited at the other end of the entry hall. She’d be taking Mom to her rehab session today. But Mom didn’t seem in any more of a rush than Henry—the two of them and Lina stood under the big light in the center like they’d been for the last fifteen minutes, since Jay loaded up the car.

Alice tipped her head against Jay’s, swiveling enough to put her lips to his ear. Her hand slipped into his. “Might need to take our bags back upstairs and stay another night.”

They could, if Henry wasn’t ready to go. Tomorrow would be New Year’s Eve. Alice didn’t have work until after the holiday. But Henry had been honest with them in bed this morning about his feelings, not pretending like he’d never worry about Mom again. “Give it a few more minutes,” he whispered into Alice’s hair. “I think he’s got this.”

The last few days had been busy-busy with folks in and out turning guest bedrooms into cozy personal spaces. But they’d gone through the whole digital photo album from Avery, too, and picked out pictures for printed wedding albums for their house and Mom’s. The gals had officially moved in yesterday afternoon. This morning Henry had done shaped pancakes to celebrate before the nurse showed up to chat with Mom while they packed. Then Henry and Lina had joined Mom and the nurse in the parlor for more talking, and Alice and Brooke did the getting-to-know-you chatter while Jay played roaring dragon chasing the girls all over the library.

“—absorbed in the work, you’ll neglect to notice when you need to rest.” Henry settled his hand on Mom’s forearm, his lips tightening. “I have been guilty of the same myself, and I am not perched on a ladder crafting an entire mural wall.”

“I promise I won’t work alone on the ladder, darling.” Mom tucked Henry into a hug with one arm, swaying like they stood on a dance floor. “But my creativity is surging, and I want the girls to have a bedroom that feels like their own.” Her smile took over her whole face, sending out tiny waves of wrinkles. “I can’t recall the last time I undertook such a large project. I am practically bouncing in my sensible shoes to get started.”

“She won’t work alone at all.” Lina rubbed Mom’s back between her shoulder blades. “And you can be sure I’ll make her take proper breaks so she won’t be dizzy or forgetting to eat.”

Alice nodded against Jay’s cheek. No need to trade a glance when they were both thinking the same thing. Lina had a steady kind of confidence that made it easy to believe in her promises. The nurse would make sure Mom didn’t overdo it, sure, but Mom would listen to Lina and trust her opinion.

Henry let out a slow breath, a sigh on mute, and swept his arms around Mom and Lina. “It’s a joy to see the light in your eyes again, Mother. I know you will take special care—that you both will—so we all may make many more happy memories together.”

As Henry bent his head between his moms, Jay fished for his phone. But Alice already had hers up, silently snapping photo after photo. Henry getting simultaneous cheek kisses, check. Henry lowering his arms and clasping Mom and Lina’s hands, check. Henry peering over at Alice and Jay, his mouth twisting with amusement as he lightly chuffed at them, check.

Alice shrugged with worry-free, boneless comfort. “I’m not the best shot, I know, but at least one of these has gotta turn out if I just keep tapping the button.”

Mom giggled in a rising trill like she’d played on the piano for them last night. “Send me copies, please, darling girl.”

Wagging her phone, Alice lifted her chin and winked. “Swear. They’ll be yours by the time we hit the highway.”

“And on that note”—Henry ducked in for another quick hug with his mom—“we ought to be on our way. You’ve indulged my anxieties long enough this afternoon. I won’t make you late for your rehabilitation session.”

“Time with you needs no excuse, Henry. I loved you before you came into this world, and I will love you long after I leave it.” Mother scrunched her nose. “Which won’t be for a great many years yet, as I have so many wonderfully competent and loving helpers.” She waved Jay and Alice forward, her tiny hand as commanding as any gesture from Henry. “Come here, darlings. It’s been at least twenty minutes since I’ve properly hugged you, and I’ve forgotten the feel. You shall all have to visit more often to renew my memory.”

Alice, laughing, wrapped both arms around Mom in an X and hugged her close. “Pretty sure we can manage that, Mother.”

“Anytime you want.” Jay nestled in tight after Alice, careful not to squeeze too hard. Mom smelled bright and summery, a field of flowers humming with life. “I never run out of hugs.”

“Nor do I.” Gripping the top of his shoulders, she kissed his cheek. “You visit me whenever you like, Jay. And if you—any of you three, mind—need a mother’s love or a mother’s advice, I remain a simple phone call away.”

A chorus of thanks and goodbyes and scrambling final hugs nudged them toward the door, until the three of them stood on the far side of it, ambling down the cleared walk to the driveway. Jay swung the car keys from his fingers. He’d only held onto them because of loading their bags. But just because Henry usually drove didn’t make it some requirement. It wasn’t overstepping to offer help. Better to speak up and let his dominants decide what they needed.

“I could drive.” He spun and walked backward in front of Henry and Alice, matching their strides in reverse. “Give you time to rest.” His winter coat hid his new bracelets, but he could toss it in the backseat and push up his sleeves if he drove. The leather braids teased his wrists either way. “Lots of big emotions today.”

They got all the way to the car, his butt bumping chilly metal, before Henry clasped his face in both hands and lightly fused their lips together. “I would greatly appreciate the time for reflection. Thank you for your compassion, your gentleness, and your thoughtful service, Jay.”

Not a bad way to start a road trip.

Three hours passed in flashes, the sun glinting off fellow travelers and patches of snow. At the farm he might’ve tried taking the kids snowshoeing on a day like this one, all bright and crisp and waiting to be explored. He pulled onto their street maybe half an hour shy of sunset, with buildings blocking the fading light and long shadows pushing the heater to work harder. Through a narrow break in the curtains, their tree looked to have held its needles.

“Bet the tree missed us. It’ll be thirsty.” He cut the engine. “I’ll check on it as soon as I get the bags in.”

Except Alice insisted on helping with the bags so they could all go in together. Then she rushed past him and flipped on lights—in the hall, in the living room—and let out a big ol’ gasp.

“What? Did it drop?” He dashed through the opening into the living room. Dead branches wouldn’t be making a comeback this far from cutting. He should’ve added a second watering system— “Whoa.”

“Yeah. Nat didn’t say…” Alice, shaking her head, brushed her hand against a new banner draped across their Christmas tree. “That’s way more than the favor I asked. I hope you like it?” Lips tucked together, she eyed him with a hopeful lift in her brows. “You both? I, uh…”

Henry stepped up against Jay, hip to hip, his arm snug around Jay’s back as Alice dug in the bag of gifts she’d carried inside. She pulled free an old-timey popcorn tin with a winter sleighing scene. “These are for you.” She held the canister out toward Henry. “And these”—she thrust a hand toward the pile of half a dozen boxes that had joined her shoebox from South Dakota under the tree—“I guess are all Nat’s doing?”

“There appears to be a card.” Accepting the tin, Henry tipped his hand toward a creamy-white envelope cradled in the branches. “Jay, perhaps you would care to read it to us?”

“Uh-huh, yup. In a second.” Once his heart stopped pounding and his eyes stopped blurring and he was sure he wasn’t gonna wobble off his feet. “It’s a pretty nice banner, right?”

It was a glorious mess. Started as a bedsheet, probably, before it became a canvas for red-and-green paints. Giant brushstrokes spelled out the message:

Merry Christmas to Uncle Jay, Uncle Henry, and Aunt Alice!

Love,

Fourteen sets of handprints and fingerpainted names filled up all the empty space, from Becky and Aaron’s grownup palms to Gracie’s chubby baby-fat fingers.

“It’s the best banner,” Alice murmured, cozying up to his other side. “We’ll have to hang it every year.”

“I hope nobody got in trouble—” His brain snapped pieces together. “Wait, Nat was here for Christmas? At our house?”

“I left her a key with Emma before we went to Maine. But honest to God, I only asked for a little favor. I just wanted…” Alice tapped the popcorn tin in Henry’s arms. “Well, open it and see.”

Henry popped the lid with a brassy twang. Acres of tissue paper peeked over the rim. He dipped his fingers inside and browsed the same way he finger-tiptoed through records when he put on music. “Are these—” He folded back paper and lifted something small and colorful. An egg? Painted with a yellow dotted star at the center and repeating patterns spreading all around. “Mother and I made several of these one winter. How did you…?”

“I kinda enlisted your mom’s help to pick out yours. You haven’t seen mine yet, but—” Alice dropped to her knees in front of the tree and dragged out the black-and-white shoebox. “I brought them back from home after Mom and I went through ornaments. I don’t know why, after ten years apart, that was the most important thing. It just, it just was.” She clutched the shoebox to her stomach, both arms wrapped tight around the raggedy cardboard. “And I thought you two should have things you love for our tree, too. Not that the fancy bows and balls look is bad. It’s a beautiful tree. It’s just different.”

“You made the house a home. But with trees.” Jay pressed his hand to the banner. Soft cotton bedsheet, one hundred percent. Every one of his nieces and nephews had signed it. How Nat had managed that—well, he’d ask her later. The card might say. The front, in Nat’s slashing print, read The Webbs .

Master Will had introduced them that way after the wedding ceremony. A real good day, that one. Jay plucked the envelope loose, trying not to bobble it. The back was tucked inside the flap, not sealed. He pinched the card and tugged it free. Two elf mechanics worked under the hood of Santa’s sleigh. The Happy Belated Christmas! printed text had been scribbled out. Beneath it, in Nat’s scrawl, blue ink blared: So you need a Christmas tune-up…

His laugh sparked grabby hands from Alice, so he flipped the card around to show her and Henry. “Nat’s gotta put her individual style on everything.”

Henry settled on the floor beside Alice. “I daresay we were indeed in need of a recalibration.”

“And we’re running better for it.” Alice draped her head over Henry’s thigh and beckoned Jay down to the rug with them.

He tipped his head back, his ear touching hers while their bodies stuck out like a T with Henry as the center. Raising the card over his face in one hand, he cleared his throat. “Here we go.”

Merry Christmas to my marvelous little brother and his amazing spouses! I didn’t know what this trip was gonna be before I started, but now it’s—well, I owe you. Thanks for the inspiration and the opportunity and the place to stay. We might’ve gone overboard, but I’m not sorry about that. If anybody deserves extra, it’s you, Jay. I needed Becky’s help to pick out ornaments like Alice asked, and you know how snoopy her brothers are. So you’ve got what I think are your favorites, plus fourteen new ones the kids made for you, plus the banner because they miss you. And there’s a gift from me and one from Kevin. I hope you know how loved you are, Jay. Henry and Alice, too—they have a bunch of pint-sized admirers up at the farm. All right. The dryer’s done, and Devon says I gotta stop stalling and wrap this up. See you sometime soon, I hope.

All my love,

Nat

Alice squinted at the card, grasping his wrist. “Who’s Devon?”

“No idea.” Fuzzy warmth curled up in his chest like a purring barn cat. Alice loved him enough to ask Nat for a favor. Nat loved him enough to road trip from wherever she’d been lately and lead the kids in a revolution before coming down to Boston to leave all this stuff for him. “Guess I’ll ask her when I give her my thank-yous.”

“Sooo…” Alice gently clonked their heads together in a slow beat. “Wanna open some presents and redecorate a tree?”

For sure he did. But first they agreed on a timeout for bathroom breaks and for Henry to check on whether the kitchen had anything that could become dinner. Jay rolled to his feet and offered Alice two hands. Pouty-faced, she took them, and he threw in more oomph than he really needed. She landed against his chest and laughed, planting kisses under his jaw.

“Ideally, I may take something out to thaw, and dinner will not be delayed.” Henry crouched on the way to standing, his dark pants hugging his ass, one broad hand planted on the rug. “We shall see.”

Henry strode off toward the kitchen, and Jay squeezed Alice extra-double-plus hard. The jumble of boxes beneath the tree all had his name, some in Becky’s neat hand and the rest in Nat’s chicken scratch. “Thank you, Alice. I mean it—you brought home to me. I was thinking I’d kinda sailed that ship, and you and Henry would be my only real family from now on.” He’d tried to figure on that being enough—no more decorating trees he’d tended for seasons, lifting the littlest kids onto his shoulders so they could hang ornaments from the top branches. “But it’s more like shaping a tree, right? Nurturing the branches I want to grow and pruning away the dead wood. Thanks for showing me”—shit, the words needed to get out before his heart clogged his throat—“showing me that I have a bunch more good branches than I thought.”

She kissed him again and again, covering his face, her hands sliding up the back of his neck and bending him down to put his forehead in reach. “Nat’s right, you know. You have so many people who love you, Jay. Me and Henry are the biggest, of course—”

A full-throated, barking laugh shot out from the kitchen. “That scamp!”

Jay’s gaze met Alice’s, and they took off at a trot fit to set a record for the quarter mile.

“What scamp?” he hollered. “Did Nat mess with your kitchen?”

The house was theirs, but he had to be honest—the kitchen was all Henry’s domain, no less than the playroom upstairs.

“Not this time.” Henry gestured to a towering gift basket on the island as they rounded the corner. A small card dangled from his hand. “Alice, you said you left the key with Em?”

“I did, yeah.” Alice circled the island with ambush energy. The piled fruits and pastries and snacks didn’t seem like they meant to make a dash for freedom. “She didn’t mention anything about this. I did text her to say we’d be home later today, though.”

“And she took it upon herself”—Henry passed over the card—“to ensure dinner would be supplied.”

From The Cap & Feather, even. They just had to call when they were ready, and a full meal would be delivered. Emma and Master Will had both signed the card.

Alice elbowed Jay in the ribs. “More branches growing.”

He mock rubbed the spot she’d targeted. “I can feel them.”

The funny thing was, he could. All the love strengthened his insides like training rides strengthened his outsides, building up the muscles so he could take on anything.

Henry laid a finger against his lips and hummed softly. “I believe I have a contribution for the tree trimming. If the two of you will create a small tray of snacks from the basket, I shall fetch us an accompaniment.”

Henry disappeared down the hall and up the stairs, his footsteps echoing on the hardwood as he climbed. A tray of fruit slices and nuts and cookies formed spontaneously on the counter as Alice played finger-footsie with Jay for the best treats.

She smiled and giggled with him, but she must not’ve put the pieces together yet like he had, or she’d be jumping out of her skin. His anniversary gift was sitting right where he’d left it, displayed on Henry’s chair in the playroom. Which—yikes. Well, if Nat had opened that door, she’d have known enough not to touch anything and back right on out. But Alice’s gift, that was still wrapped and unknown and ready to be opened right freaking now, in front of the tree.

He carried the tray to the coffee table, floating and spinning and wriggling with I-know-something-you-don’t-know energy.

“You, sweetheart”—she booped his nose like he was her favorite puppy, and he added a wriggle just for her—“are massively happy about those snacks. Are you starving? Should we have stopped for food on the road?”

She fed him a candied almond from her fingers, so his answer had to wait until he’d licked her fingertips clean. Footsteps on the stairs promised Henry would show her in a second anyway. “You’ll see.”

But Henry wasn’t toting the gift sacks from the playroom. In one hand he carried a bottle, and in the other, three glasses hung from his fingers. “I had intended this for our anniversary evening. Jay thoughtfully left it in place when following the clues.” Henry set the bottle on the table, turned the glasses upright, and pulled a hand towel from his pocket. “Thankfully, it will make an equally suitable aperitif while we place our newly reclaimed ornaments on the tree and Jay opens the rest of his gifts.”

Henry couldn’t have forgotten. But it had been a busy month. The details might’ve slipped his mind.

“Alice still has a gift to open, too.” Jay subtly tipped his head toward the stairs a couple of times. “I could fetch it now, if you want.”

Cradling the bottle as he freed the cork, Henry gave no sign he’d heard the suggestion.

“Oh!” Alice jabbed at the air, her index finger wagging a solid half-dozen times. “Is that what you meant in the final Advent card? You said we still had a surprise at the house.”

Well hell, now he’d forgotten a thing too. They still didn’t know what their final present was, either. Today was like a whole second Christmas for just him and Henry and Alice. That was worth celebrating no matter what order they opened stuff in. But his collar and cuffs—they’d be even weightier than his bracelets, wider, with Henry’s claim right there in his seared-on initials.

“I suspect Jay means something else. But in any event—” Leaving the bottle on the table, Henry sat at the center of the couch and patted the cushions beside him. “Sit with me, please.”

They sat. Jay pressed his body against Henry’s from hip to knee, leaning into that steady presence. Henry lifted Jay’s hand and cupped the bracelet at his wrist, stroking his fingers along the leather, tickling the underside of Jay’s wrist and sending tiny shockwaves up his arm.

“You’ve waited much longer than I intended for my anniversary gifts to you.” Henry’s hushed baritone flowed like a hot shower pouring over sore muscles. “Before the month changed so dramatically, I had anticipated having you wear your gifts to the New Year’s Eve gala at the club tomorrow night.”

The collar and cuffs would announce him to everyone as Henry’s. Friends and strangers would see the real Jay, the Jay who belonged, who always had a place at Henry’s side.

Henry slipped his finger beneath Jay’s bracelet and tugged it taut. “We may still, if you wish.”

For five years, he’d had few dreams bigger than that. He had it now, though, didn’t he? Already. Not monogrammed around his neck, but they’d spent more than a week at Mom’s house, and not one person had questioned his place at Henry’s side. He was Uncle Jay with four new nieces and nephews to amuse. He was husband Jay, walking through the grocery store with his hand in Henry’s. He was brother-in-law Jay, sneaking in gifts so the kids wouldn’t find out the truth about Santa Claus yet. He was bonus son Jay, listening to Mom tell stories while he decorated the tree and baked a cake and learned the importance of a proper boiling for tea. He was attentive submissive Jay, who listened for what his dominants didn’t say as much as what they did. “Is that what you want?”

“Clever boy.” Henry leaned into him, letting Jay take the weight from his shoulder. His perfect posture unbent just enough to almost be called a slouch. “I find I most hunger for time alone with my loves.”

Alice curved her hand over theirs, guarding Henry’s hand between them. “I’m feeling that too. Cozy homebodies.”

“Then if you both agree, those gifts will wait for tomorrow, when we are well-rested and have no other calls on our attention.” Henry dragged his free hand through Alice’s hair, pausing and gripping thick hanks of wheat-blond waves as he went. “Many months ago, I promised my pets a decadent night before a blazing hearth.”

At Master Will’s cabin. The fireplace sat dark and empty across from them, but the kindling cradle held plenty of pieces to fix that.

“Circumstances forced us to miss the opportunity on our anniversary.” Henry bowed his head, his eyes closing, his hand tightening on theirs. “I would greatly appreciate the chance to rectify that on New Year’s Eve, if you will grant me your service from sunrise until the clock chimes midnight.”

A full day of service. Collared and commanded. Henry’s demands and praise for hours and hours, his entire focus on their relationship without distractions. Jay shuddered in his seat, his cock eagerly casting its vote by thumping against his thigh. “I pick that one, please. This year has been ours, and I want to end it that way, too. I want to start the next year at home with you so the whole year ahead gets the message.”

Leaning forward, Alice tipped her head sideways. Her hair swayed as she darted in and kissed Henry’s chin. She nipped at his mouth, hunting for more. Her eyes gleamed. “ Obey and enjoy has become a favorite of mine. I pick that one, too.”

Henry devoured her, burying his hands in Alice’s hair and claiming her with a rumbling growl that surged through Jay’s cock. His turn came next, Henry clenching the back of Jay’s neck and driving him into the back of the couch with a twist of his hips. The room had two fireplaces and two trees by the time they came up for air. Jay blinked the world back into focus.

Raising a glass and pouring bubbly like he hadn’t just been domming his spouses into dizziness, Henry cleared his throat. “Tree trimming tonight, my dear ones. With perhaps a trial run for the fireplace, and dinner here in the living room. I should like to call Emma and Will to thank them for thinking of us and suggest we reciprocate next month. First, however, I will call and let Mother know we three are safely home.”

“And I’ll call Nat to let her know we love the banner.” And maybe ask about the mystery Devon.

The bubbles in Henry’s glass crested just shy of the rim—full and hearty but not too much to handle. They’d found that level too, the good balance for all the pieces of who they were. This normal would be even better than the one before it. Their marriage had been tested by fire, burnt down to the frame, and come out stronger than ever.