“Costumes?” Cait asked.

  Evan sighed. “We’re not wearing costumes.” Hoping to distract everyone, he gestured to Nick. “Cait, Nick. Nick, Cait.”

  “The blond god,” Cait said, putting her hand out.

  “I see my reputation precedes me.” Nick grinned, and kissed her knuckles instead of shaking. “Is that how Evan described me? I want to know everything.”

  Evan could tell she was trying to be at least a little bit wary, but Nick’s charm was effervescent. “You want to let go of my woman’s hand, you jerk?” She spun around on him and he pretended to dodge behind Nick. “Sorry, sorry, was joking!”

  “I’ll show you my woman, Evan Derwent!”

  Nick shook his head, grinning. “I like you two. That’s always so nice. Anyway, I need to fetch coffee for my man, if you will, but I look forward to talking to you more later, Cait.”

  “Oh, me too.”

  He slipped out from between them and Evan stuck his tongue out at her. “You told him what I call him.”

  “You called me your woman.”

  “Uh huh.”

  She stepped in closer and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Let’s go downstairs. Where you can show me exactly how I belong to you.”

  “Oh fuck. Yeah. Though also…uh, the walls are thin. Like, if we basically make any noise at all, they’ll hear.”

  “I’m good with that, Ev. Unless you’re choosing now to be shy.”

  He swallowed, more than a little turned on by the idea of being the one whose partner was moaning. “Uh. No. Not…if you’re okay with it.”

  She pulled him into a kiss and he deepened it, the hand not holding his coffee smoothing over her hip, her ass.

  A throat cleared. “Don’t mind me,” Will said. “I’ll just be over here, frustrated I can’t get my woman on the phone. It’s cool. Make out all you want.”

  They broke apart, smiling breathlessly.

  “Sorry, Will,” Evan called, and grabbed Cait’s hand. “We’re going somewhere else now.”

  “Yeah, hot. You bastard.” But Will was teasing, to say nothing of smirking.

  As they were heading down the stairs Cait whispered, “Did he say his woman?”

  Evan laughed. “Seriously.”

  “I should make fewer assumptions about people based on who they kiss in front of me.”

  “Around here you definitely should. Come on.”

  He told himself he wasn’t going to be extra intense just because they sort of had an audience, but he must have been doing it anyway because in the middle of plowing the hell out of Cait, she bit his ear and mumbled, “You showing off?”

  He blushed and tried to slow down, but she wouldn’t go for it.

  After that she made sure her gasps and groans and whimpers were even louder, for whoever might be listening, but mostly for the two of them in this strange bubble of unexpected bliss. And because it was fun to play exhibitionists once in a while.

  They napped after that, a decadent floaty cuddle in mid-morning while rain began to tap on the windows.

  Chapter Nine

  The day wasn’t quite as lazy as the morning. Apparently New Year’s Eve preparations at the beach house were serious business.

  Somewhat unexpectedly, Eddie was in charge, with Will and Nick assisting. Nick was the one who ordered people around. Will earnestly attempted to actually assist.

  “Jesus, I can’t believe I bitched about Risk last year. How the hell did we have twenty-seven hours of our lives to just sit on our asses?”

  “We started the day before.”

  Will wiped sweat from his forehead. “Why didn’t we do that this year?”

  “Because we didn’t.”

  Evan worked it out first. “Oh. Because we drove to the airport.”

  Eddie shrugged. “We could have cooked during the day. We did other things instead. It’s all going to get done. Plus, Will hates Risk.”

  “Did someone say Risk?” Nick asked, coming back into the kitchen with Cait hot on his heels.

  “I love Risk!” she said. “Do you have Risk?”

  Will groaned. “Oh god. I had to bring it up. Why did I bring it up?”

  “Oh, honey.” Nick bowed over his arm. “We totally have Risk. You want to clear off the table?”

  “Hell yes. I’m going to destroy you, by the way.”

  “You want to make a wager on that?”

  “No,” Evan interjected. “She doesn’t.” When Cait opened her mouth, he added, “The last wager I heard Nick make had to do with being spanked in public, just so you know.”

  Cait closed her mouth.

  “Not in public. In the living room. There’s a difference.” Nick tugged Eddie to him, and Eddie, looking like he was trying hard not to smile, went. “Eddie likes my wagers. Right, Eddie? You want to proxy for Cait? If I lose, I get to spank you in the living room? You think your Sir would go for that?”

  Before Eddie could answer Will whooped and scrambled his phone out of his pocket, almost falling on his face in an effort to get to the front door.

  “Whoa.” Evan raised his eyebrows. “So…that must be the girlfriend calling?”

  “The lovely Molly. So interesting that we didn’t seen her at New Year’s last year, and again this year…”

  Eddie pinched him and he yelped.

  “What? It’s true! I only speak the truth!”

  “Let go of me, please. I have to get the biscotti out of the oven so it has time to cool before I cut it.”

  “Fine. Does that mean I shouldn’t ask Leo if I can beat your ass in front of people?”

  Eddie shot Nick a look.

  “You’re probably right. He’s a terrible sharer. So I’ll probably ask him anyway, just to see his jaw go all tight like he’s pissed at me.” Nick grinned. “I love a big strong man trying not to act like a baby.”

  “Sir is not a baby.”

  Nick kissed his cheek. “I like fucking with you. And him. Both of you at once is best of all.”

  “Go find a dry place for the grill. When you’re done with that, start draining the tofu.”

  “We grilling this early?”

  “The storm’s supposed to get worse.”

  Nick saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  Eddie only sighed.

  “You were right,” Cait murmured. “This is like being inside a movie.”

  “I know. Only we came in halfway through and I only kind of understand what’s going on.”

  “Exactly. I’m gonna go clear the table for Risk.”

  “Got it.” The oven timer went off and Evan waved Eddie out of the way. “I can get this.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Uh, does it really bother you? Nick teasing like that?”

  “Yes and no. It would bother me if he said he was going to ask Mistress, because she’d say yes. But asking Sir is just a tease. Because Sir would never agree to Nick spanking me in front of people.”

  He delivered it all like it was perfectly casual.

  “What if…you didn’t want to?”

  Eddie turned, eyes hitting somewhere around Evan’s chin, slight smile on his face. “I want to do what they want me to do. Even when I don’t.”

  “Uh.” Huh. “Okay.” He contemplated it long enough to realize he was just standing there holding a dish of what was going to become biscotti, but was currently just a sheet of baked cookie. “So for the record, I’m pretty sure that would be really hot. If that’s not a weird thing to say.”

  “What would be?”

  It seemed like Eddie didn’t fuck with people. Except sometimes it seemed like he did.

  “Uh, Nick spanking you.”

  This time he got an actual smile. “Oh, it’s hot. Super hot. Anyway, you can put that over on that trivet to cool. Then I think we should probably start prepping the veg I want to grill, though it’s not worth grilling it early. I can bring the tofu back in the oven later, but the veg should be eaten immediately. If we can’t grill later, I’ll just roast it.”

  “Okay.” But man, now Evan was thinking of Nick with Eddie over his knee and damn, that was fucking hot.

  He might need to have sex again. Like really soon. Which was when Lucy made her way down the ladder with her usual accompanying shouted greetings and salutations.

  And god, she was in leggings and a tight black tank top. A glance at Cait made Evan grin; she was almost drooling. It wasn’t so much Lucy had a body—Evan didn’t think he was all that focused on body shapes, really—but the way Lucy entered a room was a demand, and when you gave her a little bit of attention she flourished.

  “I’m ready to kick ass tonight. How many hours must I wait again?” She lounged back on the ladder, every bit intentionally, as if waiting for someone to pin her there.

  “Mistress,” Eddie said, as if he had an entire tone dedicated to just that word.

  Lucy laughed and detached herself, making her way over to the table. “Cait, Cait, Cait, we have to talk about very important things. Can you tear yourself away from Risk?”

  “Do I want to?”

  The shark smile, in full force, with a very significant glance in Evan’s direction. “I think I can make it worth your while.”

  Cait hesitated, but only for a second. “Okay. Your place or mine?”

  “I am so glad you’re here. And yours. Definitely yours. Leo would not be pleased with me if I brought you upstairs while he—”

  “Mistress.”

  Lucy waved. “Anyway, darling, take me to your suite.”

  They went downstairs and Evan looked over, torn between being turned on and…well, he was definitely turned on. But he had the impression he should probably be worried about any plan Lucy and Cait came up with together.

  “Veg,” Eddie murmured.

  “Should I go down there?”

  “Depends how much you like surprises. Mistress is really good at surprises.”

  “So is Cait.”

  Eddie smiled down at his hands. “I wouldn’t go downstairs.”

  “Okay. Right. I’ll just keep helping.” He adjusted himself. “And try to not be totally thinking of sex while preparing food.”

  A low laugh. “Good luck.”

  The door slammed open and Will came inside, dripping and windblown. “The call dropped! Oh my god, I’m going to kill someone! Hugh! Next year you’re buying me wifi for fucking Christmas!”

  He swept through the house and banged into the master bedroom without stopping.

  Eddie’s smile had deepened, even though he wasn’t looking at anything in particular.

  “The boss—Jason—calls this ‘the family’,” Evan said, softly, as if sharing a confidence.

  “Yeah. It’s my family, too.”

  Which was, in its way, perfect. He didn’t have to know anything about Eddie’s past to recognize someone else who couldn’t go home again.

  “So, veg?”

  “Veg. I’ll show you.”

  “Okay.”

  They worked side by side while the household ebbed and flowed around them.

  * * *

  The day built up, intensity growing. There were moments of calm—the beginning of the Risk game, for example—but for the most part it was a steady increase. At least until Cait crashed sometime that afternoon.

  Evan went downstairs with her, intending to stay, but she banished him back to the game.

  “I actually need to sleep, and if you’re here, I won’t be able to.” She snuggled deeper into the bed. “Really. I need my rest.”

  So he kissed her and went back upstairs, though past a certain point Risk was an almost foregone conclusion. It was still fun to play, and snack, and hang out.

  The big costume reveal happened right before dinner, with a whole lot of silliness. Cait came upstairs, still sleepy, and stretched out on one of the sofas with her head in his lap, while the different groups emerged from their lairs. She had on sweat pants and a black blouse he recognized as her “pajamas when guests are over” ensemble. He could picture her in their kitchen wearing it, and snuggled in front of the computer monitor they used as a TV.

  It felt weirdly right to see her in it at the beach house.

  First Hugh and Truman, both tricked out in beautiful suits, with a veiled Will between them in a long pink dress.

  He twirled for Evan and Cait, grinning and blushing. “What do you think?”

  “You look beautiful,” Evan said. “Who’s going to marry you and push back your veil, though?”

  Will sputtered and was rescued by Truman, who wrapped one arm around him and said, “I’ll marry you any day, Mr Derrie.”

  The blush got worse, but then Truman was pushing the veil back and kissing him, and probably Will wasn’t too worried about blushing at that point.

  Cait laughed. “That’s adorable.”

  Looking slightly debauched, Will turned back. “But you guys didn’t dress up!” Then he covered his mouth. “I mean—fuck—I didn’t mean guys like guys—oh fuck—I’m sorry—”

  “I understand accidents,” she said.

  He shook his head. “Fuck, I’m really trying to be aware, sorry. And now I’m the dude who wants people to make him feel better about being a total jerk—”

  Cait shrugged. “If it helps, I don’t plan to comfort you.”

  “Ha. Yeah, actually. Anyway, I’m gonna go stick my face in the freezer. Don’t mind me.”

  A scuffle on the stairs drew his attention before he could go anywhere, and then they were all looking, waiting, for the crew from down below.

  Bernie had on some kind of fake fur…rug? Blanket? That he was using as a coat, or a pull-over. He also had on a faded black bowler hat, which actually suited him really well. Nick had on a crisp white shirt and a somewhat ill-fitting golden vest.

  And the boss looked…like a bellhop. With a flat round red cap strapped on his head.

  Evan snorted, because it was funny, but he still didn’t understand what they were going for. Cait and Will seemed to get it at the same time. Cait called, “Idris Elba!” right when Will yelled, “Macklemore!”

  Nick did some kind of flashy dance move that was part Michael Jackson, part “Pretty Fly for a White Guy”. “Don’t ask me to actually sing the song, but if you want me to go around stirring shit up, I’m good for that.”

  “I have no idea what I’m looking at,” Hugh said. “Am I supposed to know what I’m looking at?”

  “No one expects you to know shit, Reynolds.”

  “Wait, wait, hang on—” Will tapped on his phone, scowling. “Dammit, I can’t get enough signal to load YouTube.”

  Hugh held up his hands in surrender. “Wifi next year, I know, I know. A verbal explanation would be acceptable.”

  The boss sighed. “Christ, you’re pathetic. You’ve never heard of Macklemore? Skinny white guy, makes something like music, from Seattle?”

  “Mackle…more?”

  Truman laughed, Jason sighed again.

  “He’s an independent artist,” Bernie explained. “He writes popular hip hop songs that wouldn’t be nearly as popular if a black man wrote them.”

  Nick did another dance move. “He’s definitely not big for his dance skills.”

  “I like Macklemore,” Cait said.

  “I don’t dislike Macklemore.” Bernie resettled his ridiculous fur rug over his shoulders. “I just think taking bites out of The Man when you’re an unthreatening white boy isn’t exactly a novel approach to a brand.”

  “Ooooooh,” Will said. “Fight, fight, fight!”

  Truman tugged him down on the other couch. “Are you being an instigator?”

  “You gonna punish me if I am?”

  Evan met Nick’s eyes across the room—both of them staying out of the Cait/Bernie Macklemore debate—and smiled.

  Nick’s returning smile made him a little horny. Which wasn’t a bad thing with Cait in his lap. To say nothing of Lucy—

  The unmistakable opening chords of the Ghostbusters theme suddenly blasted out of the attic. He heard Nick say faintly, “She didn’t.”

  But she had.

  Lucy, Leo, and Eddie descended their ladder, all three of them in beige jumpsuits with proton packs.

  “I will bust all your asses!” Lucy called, waving the hose of her pack around. “Oh, wait, what’s this?” She extracted something that looked…like a cane from the tip. “Now this is what I’m talking about. Who wants to go first?”

  “Holy shit,” Nick mumbled. “You’re such a cheater.”

  “There aren’t rules!” She looked him up and down, then Bernie, then the boss. “Jase, you missed your calling. You can hop my bell any time.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure that makes no sense.”

  “But do you see who we are, Mistress?” Bernie asked, raising one eyebrow.

  “Why, Mr Elba. So good of you to join us.” She smirked back at him. “It was a good attempt.”

  “It would hardly be fair if you were the arbiter of our contest.”

  “Hugh can’t do it because he won’t get the references.” She surveyed everyone else.

  “I remember Ghostbusters,” Hugh protested. “I didn’t miss the entire nineteen-eighties.”

  A chorus of groans from his friends. Evan and Cait laughed.

  “There’s a new one,” Leo said gently. “It came out over the summer. There were women in it.”

  Hugh’s astonishment was amusing all by itself. “Really?”

  Jason shook his head, making his little cap shift to the side. “Listen, Small Fry, I don’t mean to be critical, but you have a pathological avoidance of popular culture.”

  “Are you qualified to diagnose that?”

  “Some of the guys I’ve dated, I really think I am—”

  Lucy and Bernie started pointing out the relative merits of their costumes, Jason and Hugh continued bickering, Truman took the opportunity to kiss Will more, and Nick made his way over to crouch beside the couch.

  “So.” His eyes all but twinkled. “Who would you rather see ass-up, Ev? Me or Lucy?”

  “Who would you rather be ass up?” Evan asked, watching carefully even though both of them were smiling.

  “Oh, there’s something appealing about Lucy going at me. She does that now, Bern will have to amp things up downstairs later to make it clear I belong to him, and that’s always a good time.”

 

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