“He’s going to take a shower in his bathroom and join us after.”
“He’s running.”
Grayson lifts his brows. “Emma, we have this until the snow clears. It’s okay for him to take a shower alone.”
I search his face. He’s always been good at hiding his emotions when he needs to, but it’s been a very, very long time since he’s tried to hide them from me. He’s locked down right now. Completely closed up. I walk to him and slide my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. “I don’t like thinking about the end, either.”
Grayson sighs and wraps his arms around me. “You’re too damn observant.”
“Hard not to be when I’m feeling something similar.” I give him a squeeze. “You don’t have to hide how you feel, not from me.”
“You’re my wife.”
I already know where he’s going with this. “And you’re my husband. But that doesn’t change the fact that we both care about Derek.”
Grayson frames my face with his hands. “You are first for me, Emma. Always. I meant every word of those vows when we were married, and I mean them now.”
“I did, too,” I whisper. Now’s the time to speak up, to tell him what I want just like I have every other time before in our relationship. “Grayson…” I take a deep breath and shore up my courage. “We’ve never had what most people call a conventional marriage.”
He searches my face. “There are limits.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why should there be limits? If it’s what we want—what we all want—then why not do it? We don’t give a shit what other people think now. Do you honestly think that’s going to change in the future?”
He slowly shakes his head. “It’s about more than us. Don’t you think Derek deserves someone who will put him first? To be more than just a third to a couple wanting to play with kinky shit?”
“Grayson.” I narrow my eyes. “You have never shied away from what you want. Not once in all the time I’ve known you. Until now. Derek is a grown man. He can make his own decisions just like we can. But don’t you dare cheapen what we’ve shared this Christmas. He’s our friend. He’s…Well, I think it’s pretty obvious he’s more than that to both of us.”
He tenses against me, and I brace for an argument, but Grayson finally sighs. “He is my best friend, Emma.”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“Even if we were fully onboard, he’d never go for it.” For my husband to admit as much means he’s thought about it, too.
I take his hands and lead him into the shower. “But what if he did?”
His eyes are still filled with all the complicated emotions in my chest, but he smiles down at me. “You say that like you have a plan.”
“Calling it a plan is exceedingly overstating things.” Now it’s my turn to hesitate. “I love you, Grayson. So much that sometimes it feels like my heart will shatter ribs and burst right out of my chest.” I take a slow breath. “But doesn’t it feel like something’s clicked into place with Derek? Like the three of us just fit?”
He ducks under the spray for a long moment. When he wipes water from his face, all the complicated mess is gone, replaced by resolution. “Yes.” He searches my face. “You’re sure?”
“As sure as anyone can be in this situation.” I try for a smile. “You were right in the hot tub, even if we were playing games then. It’s going to be impossible to be around him without slipping up. The connection is too strong.” I hesitate. “I think it’s too strong for all of us.”
His smile turns wry. “I suspect you’re right.” He glances at the door. “Derek might not go for it.”
“Grayson, you’re underestimating your charm. You know better.” I grab soap and start lathering up my body. “It’s simple enough to get the conversation started. We seduce him.”
He barks out a laugh. “Baby, you’re a gift.”
“That’s precisely what got us into this to begin with.” I grin at him. No matter what else happens, Grayson and I are solid. This won’t change that truth. I believe that down to my very soul. But I also meant what I said. We could be more. Not because we’re deficient in some area, but because Derek adds something we didn’t even realize we needed. He’s already been playing that part to some extent by nature of our friendship. I want him to play it in our bed and home and future, too. But it can’t just be me pushing this.
I sober. “If you don’t want this…”
“I do,” he says it on a sigh. “Fuck, but I do want this.” He looks down at me with those gorgeous blue eyes. “Does that make me a selfish man, Emma? To want you and want him, too?”