"I could take the sofa while you guys take the bed," she continued. "The bed's a queen. We could slumber party. Well, I mean..." Abruptly, she realized she had a variable she hadn't had when last she saw them, and that was the possibility of Des spending the night.

"Des might be there, but as long as you guys are all okay with sharing one miniscule bathroom..."

Thomas looked at Marcus. "Did we give her permission to have boys sleep over?"

"She's blushing," Marcus said, studying her with amus.e.m.e.nt and something more serious.

"Shut up, both of you. This is new to me. I'm not used to juggling guests with...someone I'm seeing."

"It's okay. As lovely as those accommodations sound, I was able to sc.r.a.pe up enough to get us a suite at the Marriott for the week. That recent artist I signed is making a decent amount of commissions. When I can get him to work."

Thomas snorted. "I'd get more done if my spouse wasn't so needy and demanding."

Julie latched onto Marcus's words. "A week? You'll be here a whole week? That's fabulous."

Marcus shrugged. "We figured we'd pitch in here and help out with your new play, visit with you and get to know Des."

"Oh G.o.d, that would be so wonderful. We're really short on set work help right now, with my student volunteers involved with exams. Thomas's handyman skills would be invaluable."

"And mine wouldn't?"

Julie lifted a brow. "You're great for hauling and lifting, but handyman work is not your forte. Remember my toilet?"

"I can't help that it was possessed by Satan. I told you to call a priest, not a plumber."

"Regardless, I have a much better use for you. I need you on publicity and community relations. I was trying to figure out how to juggle the radio and TV spots we've booked, because poor Madison got a cold and sounds like a frog right now. I can give you the basics and let you run with it. You're as good as Steve Martin in Leap of Faith, getting everybody out to the tent revival."

"I take it he wasn't available?"

"All booked." She beamed and then impulsively flung herself back into their arms, holding on tight. "I love you guys. I can't wait for you to meet Des, though I'm scared to death about it. I want you all to like each other so much, I probably need to let you three get together on your own so I don't turn it into a disaster by trying to control all of it."

"Have you ever known Marcus to let anyone else take control?" Thomas pointed out.

"I think you know the answer to that," Marcus rebounded, tossing him a look. Julie raised a brow as Thomas flushed this time.

"Do tell?"

"Nope, that one stays between him and me," Marcus informed her firmly. "The hint was just to torture you."

"You love your small torments of us lesser mortals."

"Exactly." Marcus pinched her a.s.s and she punched his solid stomach. "How about you show us what we can do for you right now? It'll take your mind off what we'll do to Des if he's not good enough for you."

She smirked, but as she led them backstage, she couldn't help adding, "He's good enough for me. Really. He's...we fit."

She stopped and faced them. "Honestly, I think I want you guys to like him so much because I do. I'm a big girl and I know even if you don't hit it off, that doesn't matter as much as what he and I feel for one another. But I love you guys and...I love him." She shook her head. "I adore my idiot family, you know I do, but the two of you are the ones I want to approve of him, dumb as that sounds. I've had appalling taste in guys, but he's different. G.o.d, I know that sounds lame and meaningless."

Thomas and Marcus exchanged a look full of multiple meanings, then Thomas reached out and clasped her hand, Marcus taking the other. "You don't have appalling taste in men," Marcus informed her with a direct look. "You just have a very good heart. If this guy is good for you-and he seems to be-I think it will be easy for us to get along. Anyone who truly loves and cares about you will get our vote."

"That doesn't mean we won't bust his b.a.l.l.s," Thomas added with a worrisome twinkle in his eyes. "That's required. We have to at least throw him in the trunk and make him think we're going to stake him out in the woods for possums and fire ants to eat his eyeb.a.l.l.s."

"You can take the boy out of redneck country, but you can't take the redneck out of the boy," Marcus said fondly.

"Does the Maserati even have a trunk?" Julie demanded. "One bigger than a toddler?"

"Oh, he finally let the Spyder go. Mercedes CLA Cla.s.s. Much more leg room. And a decent trunk."

Julie widened her eyes and put her hand on Thomas's arm as she did a mock stagger. "He got rid of the Spyder? I never thought I'd see the day."

"Well, he is over forty now," Thomas affected a stage whisper behind one hand. "He's starting to grow out of that sports car thing."

Julie laughed as Marcus went after Thomas, probably intending to take him to the floor and pummel him. Thomas ducked behind her, holding her by the shoulders to use her as a human shield, while Marcus resorted to tickling to get her out of the way.

She shrieked and squirmed away, but threw her arms out in front of Thomas to protect him. "Be nice," she told Marcus. "You need him to take care of you in your old age."

"Oh, you are both so dead."

She'd arranged for Des to first meet Marcus and Thomas at a Chili's for dinner. She figured the casual atmosphere, good food and busy bar would be a good combination for the three men.

Des had texted her that he'd meet them at the restaurant. She, Marcus and Thomas had time for a round of beers and a half hour of catching up before he arrived.

When he came in, her heart did its usual little tilt, the way it did each time they were apart and she saw him again. Evidence like that supported her resolve that this time things would be different. Even the few times she'd imagined herself in love, she hadn't experienced the light-as-air reaction to a man as often as she did with Des.

Giving Marcus and Thomas a smile, she slipped away from the booth to retrieve him, since the restaurant was crowded and he might not locate them. It also gave her the excuse to put her hands on his shoulders, lift onto her toes and kiss him without any self-consciousness.

He'd showered, and smelled clean and damp. Over his dark blue jeans he wore a Doctor Who T-shirt. It showed the Tardis as if it was the center point of Van Gogh's Starry Night.

Gathering her close, he pressed his face into her hair. "You smell so pretty," he said. "Just as pretty as you look. I missed you today."

He said that almost every time they'd been apart, but it wasn't rote. He seemed to mean it every time. They really were kind of gone over one another. As much as she wanted to rein it in, chide herself not to be silly, or to risk too much, whenever she saw him at the end of the day there was no choice but to react honestly, because he did the same.

She drew back. "You look pretty special yourself. Love the T-shirt. I may have to steal that one."

"Since it's a size too small for those gorgeous b.r.e.a.s.t.s of yours, I'll look forward to seeing you in it."

She elbowed him but took his hand, threading back through the crowd toward their table. Marcus and Thomas watched them with observation skills an FBI behavioral a.n.a.lysis unit would envy. "Guys, this is Des. Desmond Hayes. Des, these are my best friends, Marcus Stanton and Thomas Wilder."

"Pleasure." Des shook Marcus's hand first, giving him and Thomas an equally a.s.sessing glance. "She's been so happy you guys were coming to see her."

Julie noticed Thomas was studying Des peculiarly, his head c.o.c.ked. It wasn't unusual to see Thomas looking at someone with a particular intensity, because he was always composing future works in his head. Des would definitely qualify as appealing subject matter. She wondered what Des would think if he inspired Thomas's next masterpiece, since his focus was often gay erotic art. Des didn't have any problem being around gay men, but he was d.a.m.n straight in his own preferences.

When he caught her looking, Thomas lifted a shoulder and his expression cleared. "We've only recently heard good things about you. You've been keeping her tied up these past few weeks."

"In more ways than one," Des said agreeably. He earned a sharp look from Marcus, which he met with a clear-eyed Dom-to-Dom look that gave Julie a little flutter. He'd taken that opening on purpose. It was a "Yeah, you're her friends and I hope we'll all get along, but I'm not going to walk on eggsh.e.l.ls or kiss your a.s.s to get your approval." It was also a not-so-subtle way to confirm she'd told them about his preferences, Dom and rigger. She'd told him she had.

Yet remembering his reaction at the party when they'd talked about Marcus and Thomas with Madison and Logan, she realized the message Des had just sent had been a reinforcement of that, as much for her as for them. She didn't know if that made her feel better or more nervous.

Des hadn't intended it as a juvenile joke, either. He'd delivered it with a straight look, tempered with the friendly handshake. Marcus was still considering him while Thomas moved in to smooth things.

"We've missed her, too," he told Des, and glanced at Julie. "New York needs your humor to keep it from taking itself too seriously."

"You were supposed to be holding up that end of things with your clear-eyed Southern perspective."

"Marcus has been keeping me too busy. Josh warned me what it would be like to be married to my manager and I just didn't listen."

"Now you're stuck with me for life," Marcus said lightly, caressing Thomas's nape.

Julie slid into the booth and Des took the seat next to her, his hand settling on her thigh as she curled her hands around his biceps to hold onto him. Under the lamp hanging over the table, he looked a little tired. The roofing job had been a big one, though. A couple of their usual guys had been unavailable, and the home was an eight thousand square foot estate with two guest houses they'd also wanted re-roofed.

The waitress arrived to take Des's drink order and he requested a Redd's Wicked Ale for Julie and an ice water with lemon for himself. Initial conversation was easy. Thomas asked Des about his day, and Des offered some high level details about the roofing job, which he confirmed had turned out to be a bear.

"Somebody married a Victorian monstrosity to a Cape Cod and it had a baby. That thing had about twenty different roof lines and steep peaks, dormers out the a.s.s. We'll get good money for it, but I don't think the guys ever want to see one like it again. The lady who owns it is a theater buff, though." Des tapped his water against Julie's bottle. "I told her about Madison's new place. Made it sound very trendy and on the wild side so she'd bring her friends. Might make her hair fall out when she sees a show."

"Or she'll love it," Julie rebounded. "Middle-aged and older professional women are the ones who particularly love cla.s.sy erotica. They just don't have a lot of places they can see it that are comfortable for them. That's part of what we're trying to change."

"You're doing great," Thomas said, and nodded to Des. "She showed us how things were going today at the theater."

"She and Madison have done a h.e.l.l of a job bringing it all together," Des agreed. "They've created a lot of good buzz in the BDSM community here, because while no one cares about converting anyone, it'd be nice not to worry about so much ignorant backlash if it gets out a person is involved in the scene. Not a problem for me, but I know it's a big issue for a lot of people, particularly those going through divorces and kid custody battles."

Marcus gestured with his beer. "Plenty of otherwise intelligent people used to think that the word h.o.m.os.e.xual was synonymous with pedophile. So, here's to things that are changing."

They clinked their drinks together for the toast, and Marcus shifted subjects. "So, your opening salvo aside, I understand you're quite a rigger. Did a little research on you. You've got a top notch reputation."

Des inclined his head. "I'd say sorry about the salvo, but I'm not, unless it made Julie feel uncomfortable. That wasn't my intention, love," he told her, as if it were just the two of them at the table.

"It's all right. Billie Dee warned me the three of you would have to do some yard dog circling stuff. Just warn me if anyone's going to try and mark me."

Thomas chuckled, but he looked at Des seriously. "That all may be true, but the real truth is we love her. We look out for her."

"With that common ground, it doesn't sound like we're going to have any problems." Des lifted a brow in Marcus's direction. "Will we?"

Green eyes held brown for a long moment. When Thomas's foot pressed on hers under the table, Julie caught his amused gaze, as he mouthed one word. Breathe.

Marcus inclined his head. "Sounding like we won't. So tell us more about your rigging work."

"Oh my G.o.d, he's amazing. You should have seen what he did in the first performance..."

Des didn't seem to mind that she jumped in to gush. He leaned back in the booth and adjusted his arm along the seat rest, his fingers playing in her hair and caressing her shoulder as she spoke. When he asked them to do so, Marcus and Thomas shared some of their experiences with the BDSM world in New York. At length, Marcus put her back in the hot seat.

"How about you, Jules? How are you doing in this brave new world?"

She glanced at Des, whose encouraging expression told her she could share whatever she wished without offending him. "Des has helped me understand a lot more about the psychology, so I can help my performers shine even more. For my own self..." She thought about it, aware of their eyes on her, but particularly Des's.

"I think I've found something that I want to keep exploring," she admitted. "I love having Des...do the things he does to me. It feels great, not to have to play games, to have everything laid out so bare and honest. It's scary sometimes, but it also feels peaceful. And wild and pa.s.sionate, at the same time. If that makes sense."

She looked up to meet Thomas's understanding gaze. "It's exactly like that," he said. "Congratulations. Marcus was sure you'd embrace your submissive side with the right incentive and environment. Looks like you've got both here."

"So is there a secret handshake now that I'm in the club?" she asked. She felt a little shaky at having said so much to them. But the honesty had been the right tactic, because Marcus's gaze was less speculative and more relaxed, on both her and Des.

Though she'd known Marcus was a good friend, this version of his caring was new. During that look between him and Des, he'd almost intimidated her. Probably because his protective and Dom sides had hooked up and been on full power. She guessed her reaction was proof she did embrace a submissive side, though it was the Dom at her side that commanded her deepest responses and brought those cravings to life.

"Yes, there is a secret handshake," Thomas said seriously. "We'll show it to you at the special initiation rite where we'll sacrifice a nubile virgin."

"Okay. When does that happen?"

"It's like a rave." Marcus said. "You'll get a text telling you where to meet."

"Don't think I've ever tied up a virgin," Des said.

"You mean the BDSM world isn't overrun with innocent virgins?" Julie smirked. "Imagine that."

They ordered an appetizer while waiting for their meals, and the conversation started running the normal gamut for people getting to know one another. As she relaxed, she enjoyed watching Des handle himself with her friends. Since he was comfortable with almost everyone, she wasn't surprised to see that he, Marcus and Thomas were bantering in no time like guys did when they found common ground.

Thomas was an artist, and Des was almost as serious about his rope craft. Marcus had an appreciation for all art forms. They didn't leave her out, bringing her back into the conversation to talk more about how the latest performance went and how the theater would do going forward. After she laid out the current projects, Marcus was studying her thoughtfully again.

"Sounds like you won't be coming home for some time."

"I'll make runs up to help Belinda, though she's doing a good job without me. She'd probably be okay with me turning it over to her permanently. The board we set up when we incorporated as a nonprofit love her."

"How about your parents?" Thomas asked. "When will they be back in the States?"

"Probably not for another six months. Mom is in love with Singapore right now. She wants me to come visit her there, and I probably will when our schedules match up. She'll be thrilled if I can ask her for a plus one ticket." Julie glanced at Des. "Want to go to Singapore in about six months, if I haven't managed to scare you off?"

"Can I use the ticket even if you have?"

"Sure. I'll tell them to put you in the cargo bay."

"Ouch." He flicked her hair off her brow. "You think your Mom will like me?"

"Oh, don't waste your energy." Julie grimaced. "She'll wish you were a hedge fund manager or a distant relation to the British royal family. She keeps hoping that in my little theater 'hobby' I'll meet an intensely rich and well connected investor. He'll whisk me away and let me live in luxury while I give him two point five children before I die of boredom or a Xanax overdose. But once she gets over that, yeah, she'll air kiss you just like she does me."

At Des's concerned look, Marcus lifted his beer to draw his attention. "Julie loves her mother. She just has her firmly planted in a reality scape that gives no quarter."

"It's the best way to love Mom," Julie said practically. "Dad is so vague when it comes to dealing with family, you don't need to worry about him. He likely won't remember your name two minutes after he meets you. He goes through life like a rubber duck dropped square in the middle of a lake, floating along with no real direction when it comes to family. But he's sharp with money. He's connected to a Spanish royal line that goes back centuries, so there's always been family money. He hires really good people to keep it making money for him and supporting us-Mom, my brother, sister and me-in the way he wants."

At his quizzical look, she grinned. "Yeah, I guess I can trust you now. I doubt you're a gold digger. My family's loaded. In my twenties, I went through this rebellious phase where I was determined to earn my own way, not rely on their money. Dad, as mild-mannered as he is about everything else, nearly had an aneurysm. It took me a while to pull my head out of my a.s.s and realize it had to do with him, not me. He had no problem with me working long hours and establishing a solid reputation in theater business. He just couldn't handle me doing something as lowbrow as accepting a paycheck for it."

Des blinked and she laughed. "Yeah, I know how it sounds. But he was much happier when I went from paid stage work to community theater, and that was our compromise." Julie imitated her father's smooth Spanish accent. 'Go find something meaningful, querida, something that engages your pa.s.sions. Change the world. Just honor your father by allowing him to care for you while you do.'

"He still fusses because I don't care anything about having a house or a fancy car, all the things my siblings have, but he's come a long way since our initial fights about it. Oh, and just a side note. Mom was a short-lived B-film star. She's a knockout still."

"Turtle and rabbits," Des recalled. "Except for the knockout part. Now I know where you got your looks."

"That was so the right thing to say." She curled her hands around his arm again and hugged it to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Seriously, we could have a great time in Singapore, so think about it. We'd have to do some family stuff, but then we could tour Malaysia or Indonesia. Mom and Dad would pay for everything, so the only lost income would be from any jobs you missed. And remember, it's not a pride thing. It would genuinely hurt them if I didn't let them handle the trip for both of us."

"I've had the pleasure of meeting Mr. and Mrs. Ramirez, and everything she says is dead accurate," Marcus added. "Her father has a very Old World sense of honor, but it's oddly touching. And unchangeable."

The conversation moved from there to other, less personal matters. Commercials on the surrounding TV screens, more about Marcus and Thomas's life up in New York and Julie's, when she was living there. She noticed Des was partic.i.p.ating, but as their dinner moved into the second hour, he was getting quieter, doing more listening and smiling, though there was a slight strain to his face. His appet.i.te was off, because he only ate half of the small meal he ordered, the rest untouched on his plate. He wasn't feeling well.