Now, Lyle understood what they’d meant. No, she had not been processing things before now. Not really. Maybe in a superficial way, but her emotional numbness, the shock, had cushioned her at first.
Getting her brother’s cremains back had triggered her true grieving, a shattering of the bargaining and denial phases in an irrevocable way and forcing her farther along the path. The memorial services, held for people she didn’t feel a need to be strong for, had only cemented that loss.
Maybe after tomorrow’s service she could finally start rebuilding her life.
They obviously hadn’t been sexy with her or each other since Monday night, her state of mind and their own helpless sorrow on her behalf killing any thoughts in that direction for them both.
They just wanted to make her smile again. Wanted to bring forth the little bit of joy they’d glimpsed early on when she was trying to stay in denial.
And the next day, when they reached the club, she pretty much responded the same way she had the day before, withdrawn, barely responsive.
Hell, they’d hardly been able to get her to eat anything the past week. Tilly had brought a couple of cases of protein shakes in different flavors on Thursday, something they could coax Vanessa into at least sipping.
To the men’s knowledge, the last real meal Vanessa had eaten was her lunch on Tuesday.
After the service concluded and they declared lunch was served, Tilly showed up with a plate with a few pieces of cheese, a couple of finger sandwiches, and some crackers, as well as a bottle of water.
“Okay, missy,” Tilly gently said, setting the plate down in front of her. “I’m going friend on your ass. Don’t make me go nurse on you. I need to see you eat all of that.”
“I’m not hungry,” she protested.
Lyle still couldn’t get over how weak she sounded. Not just physically, but emotionally. Even the very first night they’d met her she hadn’t sounded so weak.
So broken.
Devastated.
“I didn’t ask you if you’re hungry,” Tilly said. “You will eat that.” She pulled out a chair and sat down. “You will nibble on it until you finish it if we have to sit here all night. You can’t live on protein shakes. You’re going to get sick, and then what would Tony think of that, huh?”
He was glad Tilly was willing to play that dirty, because he didn’t have the heart to and knew Reed didn’t, either.
Finally, he breathed a sigh of relief when Vanessa reached out, picked up one of the crackers, and started nibbling on it.
“Good girl,” Reed softly said from her other side. “That’s our good girl.”
* * * *
Tilly ordering her to eat felt like a foglight in the solid inky blackness. Logically, Vanessa knew her friend was right. If Tony were here, he’d be upset at her not taking care of herself.
It took her a while, but by the time they were ready to head home again, she’d managed to finish everything.
She never could have done this without her men.
And yes, she was already thinking of them as her men.
They’d made it clear they weren’t going anywhere unless she wanted them gone.
She most certainly did not.
She never would have made it through the week without them, or their friends.
Her friends.
So much she’d lost, but so much she’d gained. Not that she wouldn’t trade all of them in a heartbeat to have her brother back, because she would.
But the cosmic irony didn’t escape her. In losing her brother, she gained a whole village of people stepping in, stepping up, and standing beside her, supporting her because of their love for her brother and her.
She lost a brother and gained two Sirs.
When they pulled into her driveway, she was stepping up onto the porch with Lyle when she heard Carlo growl behind her.
Headlights swept over them, and she turned to see a car pulling in behind hers.
Reed had Carlo on his leash, and the dog stepped back, ears flattened.
Shit.
The car shut off. Kelly got out, hesitated, and started walking toward them when Carlo barked a warning.
She stopped.
“Can we help you?” Reed asked.
“I…I’m Kelly. Tony’s ex. I wanted to come speak to Vanessa.”
“You can talk from there,” Reed told her.
While Vanessa didn’t have the energy to deal with her, she processed and stored away her enjoyment of Reed using full-on Dom tone on her and holding her there in her tracks.
Vanessa clutched the urn a little more tightly.
“I just wanted to say I’m so sorry. Can I come in and talk to you? For just a minute?”
Reed looked back at her, waiting.
She realized he was waiting for her to give him a sign one way or another.
How would Tony have handled it?
She nodded at Lyle, who spoke up. “You can have five minutes.”
They got Vanessa inside and seated on the couch. She wouldn’t let go of the urn, afraid if she did that Kelly might want to touch it.
She didn’t want her touching his urn.
Kelly looked more than uncomfortable sitting on the chair across from the couch. Reed had to put Carlo in his crate because he wouldn’t stop growling at Kelly, and Vanessa was afraid that, under the circumstances, he might actually bite her.
The last thing she wanted was that bitch trying to take Tony’s dog away because of a bite.
“Well?” Lyle finally said. “What did you want to say?”
“I’m sorry, we weren’t introduced,” Kelly said.
“No, we weren’t,” Reed said. “And your time’s running out.”
Kelly went red in the face, obviously not used to being talked to like that.
Finally, she spoke. “Look, I know you and I didn’t always get along great, and I’m sorry. I loved Tony. He was a good man. I’m sorry I didn’t come to the private service, but I couldn’t get away.”
Vanessa didn’t even want to know what pressing matters were so important it would overshadow that.
She didn’t care, either.
She stared at Kelly.
The other woman forged on. “I just…I didn’t want your last impression of me to be some greedy, spiteful woman. Things just didn’t work out between us.”
Knowing what she now knew, Vanessa kept her mouth shut.
One more try on Kelly’s part. “I hope we can be friends.”
At that, she laughed, and found her tongue unsealed. “Friends? Seriously? You didn’t want to be friends when he was alive, so why would I want to be friends with you when he’s dead? And by the way, no, he didn’t mention you in his will, if that’s what you were edging around for.”
Kelly straightened in the chair, her face going an even deeper shade of red. “That’s not why I’m here!”
“Bullshit,” Reed said. “You’re a horrible liar.”
Lyle stood. “And that’s time. Thanks for stopping by. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”
Kelly stood but now that Vanessa could speak, she wouldn’t stop. “He loved you enough to let you go to be happy,” she said. “He knew he couldn’t be happy with you or make you happy, so he let you go and let you think you took him in the divorce. You treated him like shit, said some pretty horrible things to and about him, when all he was trying to do was spare you the truth. Even after the shitty way you treated my family.”
She glared at Kelly. “All the times you tried to make him choose between his family and you, and he still was decent to you when he didn’t have to be. He could have simply up and left you one day while you were at work, and he didn’t. He wanted to be fair to you because he felt guilty. So while I’m sure he’d want me to show you some compassion, frankly? I don’t have any for you. Fuck. You. That’s something I wished I could have said to you long ago when I first met you and realized the kind of person you are, and I didn’t because I didn’t want to hurt
my brother’s feelings.”
“I was right about you,” Kelly said. “You weren’t smart enough to go to a real college and get a real job, so you stayed in the first place dumb enough to hire you and probably slept your way—”
“Out!” Reed bellowed, rising from the couch. Both he and Lyle started toward her.
“Get out,” Lyle said, “or I swear we will heave you out of here ourselves.”
Vanessa stood. “Kelly, I feel sorry for you. I really do. Because Tony was happier in the last four years of his life, even with the divorce, than he’d ever been before. And you’ll live the rest of your life as a miserable person.
Lyle had already made it to the front door and was holding it open for her while Reed followed Kelly to the door.
Kelly turned and glared at Vanessa. “I wish I’d never met your brother,” she spat.
“That makes two of us!” Vanessa screamed at her.
Lyle closed the door in her face, flipping the deadbolt and putting the security chain on.
“Wow,” Reed said, turning. “What a fucking bitch.”
“Please let Carlo out,” she said, her legs shaking as she sank back onto the couch. She leaned forward and set the urn on the coffee table.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Lyle said as Carlo rounded the couch from the other direction, a wubbie in his mouth. “We shouldn’t have let her in.”
“No, it’s okay.” A peace had settled over her, as if a bubble had popped, a blister, emotional pus slowly draining from her. Like a dose of virtual hot sauce onto her mental palate, shocking her back to reality with its heat and burn.
“It’s really okay.” She stared at the urn.
Cobalt blue, it was made of metal, she didn’t know what kind, the enameled finish usually shiny but right now smudged with her hand prints.
After a few deep breaths, she felt steady enough to stand and picked it up, carrying it back to the kitchen counter. She got a clean dishtowel and started polishing the urn until no more smudges remained.
The men had offered to install a shelf for her, wherever she wanted, so she could safely put it somewhere and see it.
For now, she couldn’t think that far ahead.
The men gathered behind her.
“I actually think I needed that,” she said.
“Needed what?” Reed asked. “A greedy bitch insulting you?”
She nodded, still staring at the urn. “Yeah. Because Tony was right. Life’s too short to be unhappy.” She finally turned to face them. “And I’d rather choose to be happy. And she’ll never even understand that’s a choice she can make.”
Chapter Twenty
The next eight weeks Vanessa spent with the men were a blur. Every night, either they were at her house, or Vanessa and Carlo were at theirs.
She wasn’t about to give them up, and they were in no hurry to get rid of her. They’d done a lot of talking, about them, about Tony, about where they were heading, the three of them together.
Four, counting Carlo.
Their friends were openly cheering them on from the sidelines, with Tilly especially dropping not-so-subtle hints about when could they plan a wedding or collaring or something?
They weren’t in a hurry for that.
The sex was hot, even hotter as they taught her what they enjoyed and let her explore what she liked to do to them. She found she enjoyed strap-on play, both as an active participant and sometimes as a passive one, being tied up and vibrated while wearing the strap-on and they took turns fucking themselves on it.
She even discovered she liked giving them some impact play, even though she didn’t want to totally dominate them. Still, the men were thrilled with that, and had expressed no desire to play with anyone but her.
She’d realized that while she liked to submit to them sexually, and for sensual play, even some light impact play, she wasn’t submissive in any other way outside of the bedroom. She had grown to love the term “baby girl,” and one night a few weeks earlier, together, they’d all changed their relationship statuses on FetLife to reflect them being her Sirs and her being their baby girl.
They’d celebrated by tying her up and vibrating her with a Hitachi until she safeworded. And since they’d never violated her safeword, and plenty of times had stopped their fun before she was ready to stop, her trust in them had long ago been sealed.
And even more unbelievable?
It was a Saturday morning, and she was going out on a boat with Reed.
Taking. Time. For. Her.
Yes, they’d have to play it a little cool because of the charter passengers. But they were one of his regular groups that he took out, and since there were only three of them, they didn’t mind if Reed brought one more. Sometimes, Lyle went out with him.
Today, it would be her, because Lyle had to be in Orlando for a day of seminars for one of the companies he wrote policies for. He couldn’t miss it, or he’d have been on the boat, too. He’d actually driven over the night before and stayed there since the first one started at eight that morning.
In a way, it was nice being able to have a little alone time with one of them. Not that she minded spending time with both of them together, obviously. But, last Saturday and Sunday, Lyle had her to himself during the day on both days.
It was only fair Reed got some solo time, too.
And she loved the boat. It wasn’t uncommon for them to go out in the evenings during the week when Reed didn’t have charters, Reed having her run the boat and gaining confidence with it as they ate dinners and watched the sun set.
She also liked boat sex, under the stars with her two men, feeling free, feeling happy. She still didn’t have enough confidence to bring the boat through the channel after dark, so she would hold the spotlight, finding channel markers with Lyle’s help and lighting them as Reed drove.
When Reed pulled into her driveway at five-thirty that morning, she was ready and waiting and hurried into the truck, giving him a quick hello kiss.
As he put the truck into reverse, he winced. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, just indigestion,” he said, rubbing at his stomach. “I’ve had some bouts of it off and on, and it’s been getting worse the past few weeks.”
She cleared her throat at him, making him laugh. “I scheduled the appointment already,” he assured her. “Next Tuesday.”
She leaned in to kiss him. “Thank you.”
“It’s okay, though. Indigestion is a little different than a fever and being sick. I think I might have that, what’s it called? Reflux? Sometimes if I take stuff for that, it goes away immediate. I probably need to quit eating crap and change my diet. Please, don’t let it upset you. I nuked a greasy breakfast burrito and wolfed it down with hot sauce before my shower. It’s just not settling right in my stomach is all.”
She relaxed. Yes, that was probably all it was. “I promise I won’t drag you to the doctor as long as you’re following up on it.”
“Oh, I am. It wouldn’t shock me if it’s the start of an ulcer, either. Which I know isn’t good, but my dad, three of his brothers, and my grandfather had those. I know in the grand scheme of things, those are usually easily treatable.”
Yes, they were. She refused to let her mind go down that rabbit trail of what-ifs.
Reed was an adult. And he was already on top of it. He knew it was a trigger for her, and she trusted him to make a sound decision.
Within an hour, they were on the boat and headed down the channel toward open water. It felt freeing with the boat up on plane and speeding over the glassy water. She’d left her cell phone locked in his truck, only taking her ID and her tote bag with her towels and other sundries. She wouldn’t need anything else out on the boat.
It was supposed to be fun, even if it was work, technically. It couldn’t be for nothing but pleasure, because the men had met Lyle before and knew he and Reed were a couple, so Reed had introduced her—truthfully—as a friend who’d recently lost her brother and needed to spend some time away
from home as a result. It saved an awkward conversation about poly relationship dynamics. So, technically work.
Yes, she enjoyed her work, or so she’d thought. This kind of work…she could understand why Reed had made the trade-off.
He leaned in so he could talk in her ear and she’d hear him without the wind ripping his words away or their passengers up front hearing him.
“We should look into getting you a captain’s license,” he said. “Then you could come out with me any time you wanted and even run the boat.” He smiled down at her.
“We’ll see. Never say never.”
He’d warned her ahead of time that, with a paying charter on board, he needed to be at the wheel due to liability and Coast Guard regs, so she wouldn’t be running the boat today.
The thought of maybe being able to do this for a living, even on the side, had never entered her mind before.
Why does he always have damn good ideas?
Because now that he’d planted the seed, she felt it already growing roots that were taking firm hold in the fertile ground of her brain.
They’d done well at their first fishing spot of the day and headed out to the second after the tide changed around noon. They ate lunch, and then Reed dropped another chum bag into the water off the stern before they started their second round of fishing about twelve miles offshore from Sarasota.
She’d taken a moment to discreetly tinkle off the swim platform before he’d put the chum bag in. When Reed turned back to the center console, she spotted something wrong. He was rubbing at his stomach again and wore a pained look.
“Did you bring anything to take for it?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
He shook his head. “There might be something in the first-aid kit. It’s in the side storage hatch in the console.”
She went in search of it. The customers weren’t paying any attention to them. They already had their hooks in the water and were on their fourth beers each. Reed had assured her they always stopped drinking before he headed in at the end of the afternoon, and were sober and safe to drive by the time they hit the dock. One of the reasons they liked going out on a charter was that they had the freedom to drink if they wanted and not worry about breaking the law.