Calluses had never truly been his style.
“It’s rewarding too, though.” Devon’s excitement perked James up a little. No matter what, he was glad that she was happy in her new role, pumped about the added responsibilities. “Today we broke ground on the site for the spa at Kayla’s resort. I can already see how it’s going to blend into the woods with the stone façade and the gorgeous beams we chose. I love knowing that when we turn it over to her, it will be everything she’s always wanted, and that I created it. I made it happen.”
Neil nodded, the side of his face rubbing against James’s hip. Now that helped him feel a little better. “I totally get what you’re saying. Mike and I met with Giovanni today. We showed him several options for the tattoo shop and the entertainment complex. Mike is going to oversee the whole project, but with Giovanni’s particular interest in the tattoo shop it looks like that’s where my focus is going to be. The man knows exactly what he wants. That’s going to make it a challenge to meet his expectations.” Neil cleared his throat.
“You’re going to do great,” Devon reassured him. James had no doubt she was right. While Neil wasn’t always the most serious guy outside of work, he was a perfectionist when it came to their jobs. He was going to be an awesome fit for a high-maintenance client like Giovanni.
James knew better than anyone that Neil excelled at making people happy. Himself included.
Devon let them inside while listening to Neil’s description of the design modifications they’d made and how he thought he could bring them to life. Neither of James’s spouses stopped on the first floor. After Devon kicked off her boots, then helped Neil remove his and James’s while still clutching James, who was content to rest in his hold, they headed straight upstairs to the master bathroom, chatting the whole way.
Devon’s shirt hit the floor. Her jeans followed as they approached the bright white tile of the spacious bathroom. He spied the claw-foot tub as Neil set him down, dragging James’s body across his own, pausing only for a brief but potent kiss and a smile that made James sure that no matter what had happened at work, Neil was as glad as James to be home and spending time together.
The bands around his heart eased some, but not entirely. Especially when Devon turned to him, already mostly naked. A plum sports bra highlighted the smooth pale skin beside it.
“How’d it go today?” Her too-casual tone didn’t quite conceal a hopeful note.
James wished he could give her the answer she so desperately wanted to hear. Especially since he was only tackling an insignificant project, a quick garage build-out for a client of the Hot Rods, basically filling in while the rest of the crew was busy with important shit.
It wasn’t that the job was difficult or that he couldn’t handle the management aspects—in fact, he was pretty kickass at that aspect. He simply didn’t want to. His heart wasn’t it in. That was standing right there in front of him, and no matter how badly he wished it could be different, he was going to have to disappoint them.
“I hated every fucking minute.”
Devon’s face fell. The glow of success and anticipation faded from her eyes, and he felt even more like shit. Not only was he miserable, he was making the people he loved wretched and anxious too. They were jumpy, on pins and needles, waiting for him to blow. So he figured he should get ahead of things and make a change before what they were all afraid of came to pass.
“Look, I gave this a try. It sucks. I’m not into it. I don’t want to be a foreman. After this is finished, next week or whatever, I quit.” James shrugged. “I mean, can you resign from your own business? Maybe I should fire myself or have one of you or Mike do it. Either way, I’m out. I’m officially hanging up my Powertools hardhat.”
Neil cringed. “Are you sure? I know we’re already separated, running our own projects, but this feels…”
“Worse? Final?” James scrubbed his hand over his face. “I know. But… Yes, I’m positive. I’m out.” His shoulders slumped and his arms hung limply at his sides.
Devon plastered herself to his front while Neil surrounded him, embracing him from behind. They squeezed him tight, then began to strip him naked. But they didn’t say anything.
“That’s it? No one’s going to argue?” James wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.
Neil shushed him with another kiss. “We can talk about it after.”
“After what?” James asked, raising a brow at Devon.
“After we take a shower and wipe all this…whatever this is…out of your brain.” Devon wiggled her finger in a circle around James’s face.
He turned and caught his reflection in the mirror. Dark circles rimmed his usually bright eyes. His mouth turned down, and his skin was ashen as fuck. Stress etched his face, intensifying the damned fine lines that seemed to be appearing and multiplying on his face every time he looked at himself. Bad energy buzzed around him as Neil flicked the water on extra-hot.
This was one thing he wasn’t about to argue with his spouses about.
Instead, he let them strip him and lead him into the spray to scrub the stink of his anxiety from his skin. If only they could do the same for his soul, they’d be set.
James closed his eyes and prayed they—and the rest of their friends, who were also sometimes lovers—weren’t too upset with him and his decision to abandon the crew.
2
James sighed as he stepped into the shower. Warm blasts from each of the bazillion heads began to wash away his sweat along with his worries. Neil and Devon were right behind him, one on each side, keeping him steady between them.
“You can do whatever—be whoever—you want. You know that’s not going to change a damn thing for us.” Devon dodged the streams to glare at him as if daring him to say otherwise, to speak the fears he’d been harboring aloud so that she could smash them to smithereens.
“I know that. I do. And I’m grateful.” James took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. He licked droplets from her knuckles before kissing them. He’d never imagined himself married to a woman or even in a romantic relationship with one, but she defied every stereotype he’d ever held and encouraged him to do the same. She’d made him accept that it was okay to be himself, no matter how different it made him from other guys he knew. When he bawled during movies, she held him. When she had a rough day, he baked her favorite cookies. They fit together seamlessly and made each other complete. The same went for her and Neil in their own ways. If it hadn’t been for Devon, he wasn’t sure he and Neil would have lasted. She was the glue that held them together, and they worshipped her for it.
Neil took James’s free hand and held it tight for a few moments before reaching for the soap to lather up both him and Devon. Beneath the soothing swipes of his sudsy hands, James relaxed. His thoughts began to pour out of him.
“It’s just that part of me feels like I should do this. I don’t want to let down the crew. And it makes sense. I can do the job. That’s not what’s freaking me out. I’m plenty capable of handling this project.”
“Of course you are.” Neil gripped his shoulder “You’re organized as fuck with your color-coordinated planner that maps out your day down to the minute—I’m pretty sure you even have a sticker for when you take a shit—you’ve got twenty years of experience on construction sites, and you can even communicate with pain in the ass suppliers without devolving into curses like Devon and I usually do.”