If only

Chapter Thirteen

In his office, Assistant District Attorney Drew Somerfeld sat behind his desk as he discussed a case with his newest intern.

All was well in the great metropolis of Manhattan. Crime continued. Law enforcement put the criminals behind bars. The Harvest Association was on hiatus, but he had a few million in bank accounts overseas. Another few million and he’d be ready to retire. He’d take Ellis with him, buy an island, and live like a lord.

“Thank you, Kathleen,” he said. “I think that covers it.”

She was a bright young woman. Quite efficient. Somerfeld started to stand before noticing the intern was fidgeting rather than exiting his office. “Something else?”

“I remember how angry you were about Lieutenant Tillman’s death.”

“I still am,” Somerfeld said in a tight voice. Mostly angry the bastard had gotten his claws into the Association. A shame the lesson hadn’t taken hold with the other members of the investigation team.

“You’ll be pleased to hear one of the so-called managers was arrested. He’s singing like the proverbial canary.”

Somerfeld froze for a second, then closed the folder on his desk as he forced a smile. “A manager? That’s excellent work. How did it come about?” Yes, he needed to know. His managers were to have shut down all communications.

“It’s that informant.” Kathleen’s smile was wide.

He wanted to slap her mouth hard enough to rip her lips away from her gopher-like teeth. “Go on.”

“The informant sent the captain e-mail addresses and files for three managers. One was arrested. The tech department is working to get locations on the other two.”

Son of a bitch. “Have we managed to identify the informant?”

“No. The computer experts say the man is bouncing his provider address through several places. Careful guy.”

“Just as well,” Somerfeld forced out. “The Association wouldn’t take such a betrayal lightly.” Wasn’t that the truth? But before dealing with the informant, he’d have to shut that manager up. Yes, that caged canary was going to have his beak roasted right off.

Somerfeld smiled pleasantly at Kathleen. “I appreciate you sharing the good news.”

Good to have a cure for Ellis’s growing restlessness. Burning the manager—and the marshals and safe house—would calm him right down.

Pity his twin’s slave would have to be sacrificed to get them into the house, because, right now, procuring a slut to replace her wouldn’t be easy. But Ellis expected to be reimbursed, so to speak. Actually, the way things were going, maybe he’d order an extra. Be nice to have a spare.

Once the manager was ash, Drew could turn his attention to finding the informant. For that bastard, he’d push his brother aside and light the first match.

Time does fly when you’re having fun. In the second guest bathroom, Sally worked off her lousy Monday at the police station as she sponged grout from the blue-gray stone tile floor. A bucket of water sat beside her.

She grinned, realizing she was cleaning a floor on hands and knees. Sheesh, tales of Cinderella…

But Cinderella hadn’t been the one to tile the floor, had she? Smiling, she swiped off another tile. Now she knew why the men liked doing their own construction. There was a simple pleasure in creating something both useful and beautiful.

Sally sat back and surveyed her work. Well centered. Around the walls, the partial tiles were all the same size. No tipped-up corners. Damn, she was good. Of course, she’d had a lot of practice over the weekend while the Feds were gone.

In between visits from her friends—and thank God for the Shadowkittens—the house had felt far too quiet, and she’d been lonely. And bored.

No Vance to cook with—or Galen to clean up. No discussions or arguments at meals.

Kari had come over one evening but had to return home early to put Zane to bed. She’d been her usual sweet, fun self—Sally frowned—except for the time Dan’s name was mentioned and she’d looked…unhappy. But then she’d changed the subject.

But in the late evenings, Sally had been lonely, missing her guys.

Vance liked sports and movies, although he refused chick flicks or animations like Mulan. A typical guy, he preferred shoot-’em-ups like Die Hard. But after she forced him to watch Alien, he’d been converted to science-fiction films. He can be taught.

And how weird was it that Galen was a World of Warcraft addict? Even worse, his shaman was still kicking her ass online. But, as if to apologize, he’d taught her how to paddle his ancient wooden canoe.

She sighed. Kisses and canoeing on the lake in the moonlight.

But all that togetherness meant she really missed them. Although Glock had joined her in her giant bed, the sweet fur baby didn’t compare to the men.

Thank God they were back…although they’d kept her up most of the night. Seemed like maybe they’d missed her too.

“Well, look at that. You got her doing manual labor.” The rough voice made her jump, and she spun around.

Master Nolan stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He was so big he seemed to fill the doorway. With the scar down his darkly tanned face making him look cruel, he’d always made her a bit nervous, but his wife insisted he was actually sweet.

Beth must be delusional. Seriously.

“How are you, Sir?” Sally asked politely. She’d decided, in honor of her Doms’ homecoming, she’d be super-supersweet and the best submissive in the world.

She could do it, right? At least for today?

“Before we left for New York, she helped me tile the laundry room,” Galen said from behind Nolan. “She finished while we were gone and started this room by herself. She’s even better at it than I am.” The pride in Galen’s face made her eyes burn.

“That’s fine work, Sally,” Nolan said. “If you don’t find a computer job, you can work for me.”

The contractor never bothered with politenesses, so if he said she’d done well, she had. She couldn’t keep her smile back. “Thank you, Sir.”

“If you’re at a good place to stop, Beth is downstairs,” Galen said. “I’m sure she’d like some company.”

“Yes, Sir!” G and V had asked Nolan over to advise them on tearing out a wall in a downstairs bedroom. She hadn’t realized Beth would come too. “I’ll go right down.”

Washing the gunk off her hands, Sally made a face at herself in the mirror. Company and just look at her. Her denim shorts were spattered with grout, her faded T-shirt had the sleeves ripped off, and she’d yanked her hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of her way.

Once downstairs, Sally set up a tray with a pitcher of iced tea, glasses, small plates, and a bowl of snack mix, and carried it with her as she searched for her guest.

In the game room, the cat sat on the fireplace mantel, imitating a statue of Bast, the feline God. Glock asserted that—no matter what humans believed—Bast was in charge of the universe. “Hey, Glock,” Sally said. “How goes it?”

Glock gave her a tail flick indicating he found the world satisfactory at the moment.

When Galen had overheard her having a theological discussion with a house cat, he’d laughed himself stupid. Frigging Fed.

No one but Glock was in the game room, so Sally moved on. The office was empty. She finally found Vance and Beth in the great room.

Sally felt better, seeing that Beth was still in working clothes—cutoff overalls and a white tank top, red hair pulled back in a ponytail.

“There she is,” Vance said as Sally entered the great room. “If you’ll entertain the lady, sweetheart, I’ll go talk with Nolan about manly subjects.” He pulled Sally close enough to kiss the top of her head before making his escape.

“Hey, Beth.” Sally set the tray down on the coffee table and winced at the clutter of combs and brushes, nail polish, and cotton balls. Early last night, while waiting for her men to get home, she’d needed to feel girlie and had played with new hairstyles and given herself a manicure and pedicure.

She should have a sign on her—hopeless at housekeeping. “Sorry about the mess.”

“Like I care?” Beth gave her a quick hug and dropped down on the sectional. “But I’d love some of that iced tea. My project is in full sun.”

“Where are you working?” Sally asked, pouring them both drinks and nudging the bowl within reach.

“Seminole Heights. A couple from Boston are having an old Victorian remodeled, and they want the grounds landscaped.” After drinking half a glass of tea, Beth gave a pleased sigh. “How’s job hunting?”

“Well.” Sally frowned. “I’ve had offers and interest from a few places up north, but nothing down here. And I’d like to stay in Tampa.” Because her friends were here. The Shadowlands was here.

The Feds were here. Odd how quickly she’d changed her mind about leaving town.

Beth patted her hand. “You’ll find something that’s perfect for you. Just be patient.”

“Patient isn’t exactly a word in my vocabulary,” Sally grumbled.

“So very, very true.”

Sally threw a pretzel at her for the insult. “At least only working part-time with no school lets me pretend to be a carpenter, and see you guys, and, even better, to play with Zane.”

“Zane is such a darling.” A shadow crossed Beth’s face. “Kari is so lucky to have him.”

What was that about? Beth and Nolan had been together about two years and had married last year. “Are you planning to follow Dan and Kari down the baby trail?”

When Beth flinched and averted her gaze, Sally wanted to hit herself on the forehead. Bad question, stupid. “Want to watch TV…or make some dinner?” Or do anything to get that unhappy look off your face?

“I—” Beth bit her lip. “It’s okay, Sal. It’s just that I can’t have children. The damage from my previous marriage was too much.”

Her husband had been a sick, abusive bastard, and Beth had scars all over her body. But she had internal damage too? “Christ in a swamp, it’s not fair that the creep left you even more—” Unable to think of the right word, Sally sat and put her arm around the slender woman, needing to comfort at the same time she wanted to kill Beth’s ex.

But Nolan had already taken care of that little task.

Beth leaned against Sally’s shoulder. “I don’t mind as much for me, but Nolan…” A tear slid down her sunburned cheek. “He said he’d like children, and I can’t. I feel so guilty.”

“But…” Sally opened her mouth, searching for the right words, needing just the ones, but nothing came. “You shouldn’t. It’s not right—”

“What’s not right is not telling me what the fuck has been bothering you.” Nolan stalked into the room. His eyes were black ice, and his mouth twisted into a threatening line.

For a moment all Sally could do was cringe. But then she jumped up to stand in front of Beth. Maybe she could hold him off until her Feds got there. “Don’t touch her.”

Nolan stopped, way too close.

Sally felt her muscles tighten; the memory of being backhanded was awfully clear still.

A corner of Nolan’s mouth tipped up. “The rabbit has a Chihuahua to protect her?” He grasped Sally’s upper arms, lifted, and set her to one side.

“Hey!” Her lunge forward was stopped by a steely arm around her waist.

Vance chuckled. “Easy there. He’s not going to hurt her.”

“I should.” Nolan went down on one knee, still tall enough that his eyes were even with Beth’s. With a scarred hand under her chin, he lifted her face. “I had a nasty scene planned to pull answers out of you. To find out what’s made you unhappy.”

Her lips quivered. “I’m sorry, Master. I wouldn’t have married you if I’d—”

“I would have.”

His blunt statement made her blink. “But—”

“My family has kids to carry our bloodline.” He released her chin and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “If you want children, we’ll adopt them.”

“Really?” she whispered. Her blue eyes filled with tears.

“Sugar, I love you. I’ll do about anything to make you happy.” He picked Beth up and sat down, cuddling her in his lap. She buried her face against his chest, her shoulders shaking as she cried.

With a sigh of happiness, Sally slumped back against Vance. Despite scaring the spit out of people, Nolan really was as sweet as Beth insisted.

Vance kissed the top of Sally’s head before whispering, “See what happens if a submissive keeps secrets from her Dom. She’s miserable although she doesn’t have to be. Why don’t you tell me what you’re hiding, Sally?”

She stiffened. Would the FBI special agent cuddle her sweetly after hearing she’d hacked into the Harvest Association’s e-mails? Oh yeah, and she could tell him she was acting as a modern-day Robin Hood. He’d definitely understand her reasoning.

Not.

Pulling out of his arms, she smiled politely. “Would you like some iced tea, Sir?”

His eyes narrowed. “Guess I should ask Nolan what he’d planned for that nasty scene.”

Oh crap. Master Nolan liked using a flogger—and Galen would be all over any scene like that. Time to escape. “Perhaps I should check on my other Dom.”

“I’m here.” Galen tugged her hair as he limped past to take a seat on the far end of the sectional. “I’d like some tea, please, pet.”

“My pleasure, Sir.” Her answer got a suspicious look. What? Didn’t they think she could be a sweet submissive? Jeez.

First she served Vance a glass.

He nodded his thanks and took a chair beside Galen.

She handed a drink to Galen. When she knelt beside him without being ordered, he raised his eyebrows.

Master Nolan and Beth were talking quietly, not ready to be disturbed, so Sally asked her men, “Did Master Nolan have suggestions about tearing the wall down?”

“It’s not load bearing, so we’re good to go.” Vance took a sip of his tea. “We’ll need an electrician for some rewiring though.”

“Might be good to put in an intercom while we’re at it,” Galen said.

An intercom? How old-fashioned. Be more fun to put in some voice-activated software and…

Voice activated. Oh my God. Totally jazzed, Sally rose and left the room, keeping her back to the guys so they wouldn’t see her plotting. Wire a light switch to turn on the receiver.

In the bathroom, she grabbed a handful of tissues, breathed through her excitement, and headed back. Think of the havoc she could create if she rigged her laptop to mess with the house functions—lighting, maybe—upon command.

As Sally walked into the great room, Beth was sitting up and wiping her cheeks. Excellent timing. Sally handed her the tissues before taking her place between the men. Kneeling.

Ignoring the two sets of suspicious eyes, she looked at their guests.

Beth’s hand was shaking as she cleaned off her face. She was too pale.

Nolan lifted his submissive to her feet. “Perhaps something to drink, sugar?”

Seriously? She bawls her head off, and he asks her to serve him? Sally scowled and started to rise to wait on the insensitive jerk.

Galen set a detaining hand on her shoulder and whispered, “She isn’t like you, pet. Nolan knows serving him will calm her down.”

At the coffee table, Beth slowly fussed over fixing a tiny plate of snack mix and pouring a glass of iced tea. By the time she handed the plate and glass to Nolan, her hands were steady.

Setting the drink on the end table, he spread his legs and nodded at the floor.

She gave him a pleased smile and knelt between his feet, facing outward.

When Master Nolan looked down at her, love had turned his eyes a soft sable. He stroked a hand down her bare arm and offered her a tiny pretzel. Feeding her.

Beth leaned her head against her Master’s thigh with a look of peaceful contentment as he fed her tidbit after tidbit.

Feeling far too envious, Sally turned her attention to her glass, swirled her tea, and watched the ice cubes bob.

“Pretty rare,” Nolan said.

Sally looked up to see the Master studying her and Galen and Vance. “Rare for two Doms to share a submissive for more than a scene,” Nolan commented. “Especially since you’re not gay.”

“More like brothers,” Vance said, shaking his head. “But you don’t see it much.”

Sally nodded. There were poly relationships in the Shadowlands, but most were one Master and female slaves. Or a Domme, like the one who had a nonlifestyle partner, a female submissive, and a male pup. Two male Doms weren’t that common.

“Actually…” Beth glanced up at Nolan. “Sir?”

He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “I’m not enforcing high protocol, sugar. You’re on your knees only because you needed to be there for a bit, but this is just a visit with friends.”

Turning her head, she kissed his hand. Given permission to speak, she said, “I vacationed at a town in Colorado called Happiness or Joy or something, and the place had a lot of male-dominated ménages.”

“Uh-huh,” Galen said. “Jake told me about a place in Wyoming—King’s something or other—where polyamorous relationships with multiple men are common.”

Really? Sally straightened. She’d thought her time with the Feds would be only short-term, just for the month or so until she snagged a job. But now…her heart quivered as if it had caught a chill.

Would the guys ever consider something long-term? And would she want that? With two men? Was she totally insane?

She scowled at the floor and then realized Nolan and Beth were leaving. After scrambling to her feet, she hugged Beth and whispered, “Let me know how it goes with the adoption stuff.”

Beth’s smile was far brighter than when she’d arrived. “I will.”

Nolan nodded at Sally, shook hands with Vance, and Galen walked them out.

After grabbing the bowl of snack mix off the table, Sally set it on the floor beside her and popped a cashew in her mouth. “Do you suppose they’ll try for a newborn or adopt an older child?”

Vance sat down beside her and picked up the bowl, earning himself a frown. “I could see Nolan wanting to give an older kid a chance.”

“Do you think it would bother him that the child wouldn’t be his own?”

As Nolan had with Beth, Vance fed her a pretzel.

A fuzzy, contented feeling invaded her chest.

“Most parents don’t think of their adopted children as anything but their own,” Vance said. “My mother tends to forget she didn’t carry me or my sisters in her belly.”

“You—you’re adopted?” Sally stared at him.

“Um-hmm. Chew before you choke, sweetheart.”

Adopted? He tapped her lips, and she chewed obediently.

He picked out a couple of cashews and fed them to her. “Mom couldn’t have children.” His eyes darkened. “My birth mother was only thirteen when she was pregnant with me. She was a cousin of my father’s.”

Christ in the flowers, thirteen? “Have you ever met her?”

“Once I understood what adopted meant, I asked to meet her. Turned out that she’d died having me.” He stared out the window, where an egret was wading, stork-like, in the shallows. “For years, I felt so damned guilty. Like her death was my fault—that I’d killed her.”

“No.” Sally wrapped her arms around Vance’s legs and hugged them. “No, you didn’t. You were a baby.”

“Yeah. Once my parents realized how screwed up I was about it, they got through to me.” Vance stroked her hair. “Kids can feel guilty for the stupidest things.”

She looked up. His eyes were understanding but held the determination that she’d work past her own guilt.

Maybe, someday, she’d stop feeling so guilty for causing her mother’s death.

Hearing a noise, she turned her head.

Galen had been watching from the doorway.

He walked in, pushed the clutter on the coffee table to one side, and took a seat facing her. “In my case, I decided my crappy behavior was the reason my father divorced my mother.” Galen gave her a wry smile. “Soon after college, I ran into him in a restaurant, and we talked. He didn’t remember any of what I’d always thought was so bad. He hadn’t asked for visiting rights because he didn’t want any contact—at all—with my mother.”

“Oh God.” She wiggled her way between his legs until she could put her arms around his waist. “Your father sounds like a complete douche bag.”

“You’re a vicious little sub.” Galen laughed, and the darkness cleared from his voice. He hugged her back.

Happiness filled her. Staying between his legs, she settled herself with her back to him so she could lean forward and grab a handful of snack mix from the bowl beside Vance. And like a dutiful submissive, she twisted around and offered it up on her open palms to Galen.

Rather than taking it, he laughed at her and ran his finger down her cheek. “Don’t try to warp yourself into something you’re not, imp. Vance and I are happy with you as you are. We don’t want a full-time submissive. If I decide to take control at an unusual time, you’ll know it; you won’t be confused.”

Well, that was true enough. She remembered how on her first day with them, he’d tossed a cushion on the floor and pointed to it. “But—”

“You’re adorable when you try to be a slave, but that’s not who you are.”

“But don’t you like—”

“Makes me nervous to be waited on hand and foot,” Vance said.

“Oh.” She frowned. “But…I don’t feel as if I’m giving enough.”

“Works for me to share the chores. In the bedroom, I expect a submissive.” Vance grinned. “You don’t seem to have a problem with that.”

She flushed, remembering the early morning fucking that he liked so well. Galen liked to get up before dawn, but she and Vance would sleep until the alarm went off. And Vance would definitely take charge. The headboard probably had her fingernail marks on it.

Behind her, Galen tugged the scrunchie from her ponytail, and to her shock, he picked up her hairbrush from the table and started to brush her hair.

Long, smooth strokes. He even worked the tangles out with his fingers if he hit a snarl.

With a moan, Sally fell into the pleasure. “God, Galen.”

Galen laughed under his breath, his voice husky. “I used to do this for my mother.”

“Seriously?” Vance asked. “I can’t imagine your mother letting anyone touch her.”

“She got worse with the divorce. Totally retreated into the arctic zone.”

“Ah.” From the lack of expression on Vance’s face, Sally had to guess he didn’t like the woman at all. Which made Sally figure she must be a royal bitch.

And Galen had thought he’d caused that divorce, and afterward his mother pulled away into a cold shell. How would that affect a kid?

Sally frowned. Galen seemed like a gaming computer. Sensitive and responsive and always functioning at high speed. Far too easy to break. She wrapped her arm around his calf, holding him close as if she could make up for all the affection he’d missed as a child.

“Are you sure you don’t need more from me?” she asked, wanting just to…give.

“No, baby girl. What you bring us is more valuable than labor. The house is happier with you in it. More fun.” Galen’s hand stroked down her head after the pull of the brush, a double hit of tenderness. “Imp, wherever you go, the air practically sparkles.”

Her eyes blurred with the rush of tears.

And for one second—one second only—she could see herself staying. Long-term.