Smolder (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, #29)(70)

“It took me a long time to understand how you saw our relationship. I thought you were just my boss, all business.”

“I do not date my dancers; it has been a hard-and-fast rule until very recently.” He said that last with a smile, holding his hand out toward Nathaniel, who came and took the offered touch.

“I had no idea that you and Nathaniel were dating,” Richard said.

Nathaniel looked at Jean-Claude and I knew that he would wait for the vampire to answer the question, because it was Nathaniel who had pursued Jean-Claude, and he had said yes only recently, and now suddenly Richard was back. Someone Jean-Claude had pursued. Jean-Claude said,

“Nathaniel and I are not dating, Richard; we are living together.”

I felt Nathaniel let some tension go, like he’d expected Jean-Claude to dump him the moment that Richard returned. Our beautiful flower-eyed boy was secure in his beauty and sexual prowess, but not in his emotions about relationships. We all have our issues.

“Okay, I shouldn’t be surprised by that but I’m not sure what it means for all of us right now,”

Richard said.

“What do you want it to mean, mon lupe?” Jean-Claude asked.

“It means I’d planned on the three of us sharing the shower, but now knowing that Jean-Claude and Anita are both living with Nathaniel I don’t know what to say.”

“So, if I hadn’t been closer to Jean-Claude than you expected, you’d have just assumed I could be brushed aside, and you get Anita and Jean-Claude to yourself?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Richard said.

I drew away from Richard. “How did you mean it? Nathaniel is my fiancé.”

Richard frowned. “You’re marrying Jean-Claude, or did I miss something?”

“You missed a lot,” I said.

“If it were possible to marry more than one person, there would be multiple grooms at our wedding, mon lupe.”

Richard looked stricken. “Who else would you marry?” His emotion was so strong that I heard/saw him thinking through all the people in our lives, and he left out some important ones, ones that he knew were in our lives. We hadn’t added any new people to our polycule since he vanished on us, but he had no sense of the dynamics. That was interesting and so blind that I wasn’t even angry.

Jean-Claude raised Nathaniel’s hand and laid a kiss on the back of it. “Nathaniel has become the heart of our home, our domestic god.”

“I knew Nathaniel was Anita and Micah’s like 1950s wife, but I didn’t realize he’d become yours, too.”

“Who do you think chose the dishes in the new kitchen at the Circus of the Damned, or helped design it in the first place?” Jean-Claude asked. Nathaniel wasn’t as close emotionally to Jean-Claude as he was to Micah and me, but in that moment Jean-Claude acknowledged the truth that Nathaniel made it all work. He planned the menus, did most of the grocery shopping, had been the go-to for the remodel of the kitchen and the extra guest rooms. Nathaniel had chosen all the new colors and pieces at the Jefferson County home and not only had Micah and I both liked what he chose, but it had been a wonderful mix of all three of us. Jean-Claude’s tastes ruled at the Circus of the Damned, except for people’s private rooms, which they were allowed to decorate themselves, but everything else was him except for the kitchen and the guest rooms, which were Nathaniel’s—well, and the exercise areas. The last had been part mine, part Nicky, Claudia, and Fredo, because the last two oversaw our private security, including their training, but then any important guests who saw the gym area were there to work out, not to admire the decor.

“I’m sorry,” Richard said, “I didn’t mean to offend anyone.”

“Apology accepted, mon lupe.”

“Accepted if it doesn’t keep happening,” Nathaniel said.

“That’s fair, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Nathaniel said.

I stood there and let the men work it out. Poly had taught me patience; therapy had taught me to shut up and let other people talk and work their shit and only interject if I really had something to add.

They stopped talking and we all looked at each other. I was debating on how to move the conversation forward and actually get a chance to clean up in the showers. Not for sexy reasons, but just to wash all the makeup off and get out without a fight breaking out. We were almost at a record with the four of us being together without arguing.

There was a sound in the hallway, which made us look that way. Wicked was in the doorway. Tall, broad-shouldered, with blond hair falling straight and thick to his shoulders. He was movie-star handsome with pale blue eyes, high cheekbones, a square manly jaw, and a deep dimple in his chin.

He’d put his tailored suit jacket over the Guilty Pleasures staff T-shirt. He looked underdressed without his normal dress shirt.

“Is there something you needed, Wicked?” Jean-Claude asked.

“We were told to help you stay on target for tonight.”

“We are fine,” Jean-Claude said, and the tone alone was enough to make most people back off, but Wicked wasn’t most people.

“Of course you are all fine, but either shower here, so we can move you all to a more secure location as soon as possible, or let us move you now and shower at the Circus.”

“They’re right,” I said, “this was a serious attack tonight, Jean-Claude.”