I’ve never been the kind of architect who shows up to work at the crack of dawn, but I know my friends well, and it took the sun quite some time to make it over the mountains this morning. I push my way into their offices, my hands laden with coffee and pastries and heartier fare.
Rafe heads straight for the bag of breakfast burritos. I can’t blame him. They smell outrageously good.
Matteo takes two of the coffees. “Any of these fancy?”
I know my friends. “Black, all of them.”
Rafe chuckles. “That will work for me, but Liane is softening Matteo up. He takes all kinds of frippery in his these days.”
Matteo shoots him a dirty look. “I can drink it plain.”
Rafe just grins. “I can tie it up in a karada dress, give it a little decoration.”
Matteo snorts. “Your karadas can barely stay on hairy legs. You’d never make one stick to a coffee cup.”
I take a seat, enjoying the banter. It harkens very much back to the day we met, right down to rope ties and hairy legs. I smile at Rafe. “As I recall, you were an excellent rope bunny.”
He snorts. “Don’t tell India that, or my life won’t be worth living.”
I met the delightful Liane last night, but I haven’t met the woman who has charmed Rafe yet. “Tell me about her.”
He smiles. “She’s prickly and tender and volcanic and she can do things with metal that will tear your heart out and give it back to you more whole.”
I’ve seen her work. I take a sip of my coffee, which a Canadian winter has cooled off nicely. “I bought one of her sculptures for Gabrielle for Christmas.”
Rafe laughs. “Thank you. I told her to put a handful of them up on her website for a week. If none of them sold, she could take them down and go back to pretending she’s just a jewelry maker.”
I consider him thoughtfully. Of the three of us, he’s by far the trickiest Dom. “There was only one on her site when I went shopping.”
He leans back, a very satisfied look on his face. “Yup. She put up six. They sold in five hours. You got the last one.”
Matteo laughs. “How many people did you email, dude?”
A shrug from a man well pleased with himself. “Just a few. No one since then, and they’re still selling almost as fast.”
As well they should. The one I managed to acquire rendered my niece speechless. “She lets you push on her. That’s lovely.”
He rolls his eyes. “You don’t get served burnt dinner every time a sculpture sells.”
That’s lovely too. Rafe thrives on pitting himself against opposing forces, and if India’s smart enough to let herself be one some of the time, that will only strengthen them. “You sound very well matched. I’d like to meet your India.”
He grins. “Oh, I’m pretty sure that if you’re sniffing around Daley, she’ll find you.”
I hide a smile behind my cup. “I’m not sniffing.”
They both give me the kind of skeptical looks only experienced Doms can pull off.
I inhale, the smell of coffee always far more useful to me than drinking it. “She’s fascinating. I spent the afternoon with her yesterday.” I nod at Matteo. “As you already know.”
His lips quirk. “I don’t think I got all the salient details.”
“Last night I wanted to get to know Liane and the two of you together. She’s helped you to find your center. I’ve seen you happy before, but never quite this content. It was a delight to be in the company of that.”
His eyes soften. “She’s amazing.”
I pick up one of the foil-wrapped burritos. “You’ve both done very well for yourselves.”
Rafe reaches for one as well. “Going to make it three of us, old man?”
This is what drew me into a life of kink. Not the accessories or the power or the sex. The river of honesty, deep and wide, that runs through it. “I don’t know yet.”
Rafe’s eyebrows fly up. “But you’re considering it.”
They’ve both known me a long time. Since Ellie passed, I’ve been a very contented bachelor. “I’m intrigued, in a way I haven’t been in a long while.”
Matteo’s watching. Quieter, like always. “She won’t make that easy.”
I nod. “Noted.”
Rafe snorts. “Already ran into that brick wall, did you?”
He’s a man who sees things in a way most of us can’t. He also honors boundaries with more care than anyone else I know. “What can you tell me?”
He takes a bite of his burrito and chews, thinking. “They’ve been a trio for a long time. Really close, and getting a lot from each other that you might normally get in a good relationship.”
I saw hints of that. “Has that unraveled some with the arrival of the two of you?”
They look at each other, and then both heads shake. It’s Matteo who answers. “No. They’ve all been really careful not to let that happen. And Daley’s around a lot.” He casts me a careful look. “She handles us as well as any vanilla not-sub I’ve ever met.”
My looks might be more subtle than most Doms, but they’re no less potent. “I’m not yet elderly enough to have lost my powers of observation.”
Rafe shakes his head and swipes Matteo’s hot sauce. “Idiot.”
Matteo shrugs. “I like Daley.”
He’s got more than that to say. I wait. He’s not a man to be rushed, but what he comes out with is always worth the wait.
He sighs. “She comes across as really confident and insightful, and she is. She pushed on Liane and Daley at just the right times to give both of our relationships a helping hand. But I think she’s got some roadblocks inside herself, and I don’t know how well she sees them.”
He’s a good friend, even if he’s telling me what I already know. “A thoughtful Dom could help her with that.”
A slow smile. “He could. She’s worth the effort, if my opinion matters any.”
They both think very highly of the woman who’s caught my attention. It’s a good feeling to know that. I’m not a man who’s swum in these waters often. “Do you have any suggestions?”
Rafe grins. “Find Beatrice Monk and snag her fried-chicken recipe. I’ve been trying for five months now, but she’ll probably go for that Irish brogue of yours.”
It’s always amused me that the accent of Irish farmers causes swooning all around the world. “I’ve heard the lovely Beatrice sing. If her fried chicken matches the wonders of her voice, it’s a quest well worth pursuing, but I’ve other priorities for the moment.”
Rafe’s got a mouth full of burrito, so it’s Matteo who answers. “It will help with those priorities. Daley really likes fried chicken.”
For a woman who can barely heat soup, Daley has excellent culinary taste.
Matteo adds enough hot sauce to his burrito that I hope there’s a fire truck nearby. “Does she know yet that you can cook?”
She wasn’t wrong when she accused these two of being matchmakers. “It didn’t come up. Hopefully she’s discovered one or two of my other redeeming qualities, though.”
“Oh, I think she has.”
I cast Rafe a surprised look. He sounds awfully sure of himself.
He smiles and nods his chin behind me. “Whatever your next steps are, figure them out fast. She’s standing outside the door.”