If only

Chapter Twenty-Five

Several days later, Vance followed Galen onto their dock. Although his partner was using his cane more, his limp had returned to “normal.”

In contrast, Vance could feel pain stab into his leg with each step. Fuck, he was getting old.

But it was fucking nice to get out of the house. To be outside. And alive. Under his bare feet, the wood was damp and rough. A thunderstorm had passed through earlier, leaving the night air cool, almost crisp. Reflections of the house lights danced on the dark water.

Turning to face Vance, Galen set one hip against a post, shook his head, and pointed at a chair. “Sit before you fall on your ass.”

Ignoring the urge to remain standing to prove him wrong, Vance gingerly settled into a chair. “You wanted me out here—away from Sally. What’s up?”

“I’m quitting the FBI.”

Disbelief kept Vance silent as Galen talked. He’d break up their partnership? After everything they’d been through? The years together?

When Galen fell silent, Vance realized he hadn’t heard a word. “Go through it again; I missed some.” All, actually.

After a frown, Galen simply nodded and started over.

This time, Vance managed to listen. To process. Mostly.

Galen was talking about Sally’s worries for their safety. About his need to protect her—and not see her upset in her job. That fair was fair. That he was tired. That he got too involved with cases—although Vance figured obsessed would be more accurate. That it was time for a change.

Galen stopped, looked at Vance for a minute, and turned to watch the water. Giving him space and time.

Vance realized he was rubbing the itching wound on his leg and forced himself to stop. Another scar for Sally to play with, to add to the others he’d collected. Some agents retired without their bodies looking like a battleground. Sally had good reason to fear for her Doms.

And if they died, she’d mourn them. She loved fiercely. Completely. She wouldn’t recover from their loss easily. The thought of hurting her in that way was difficult.

Even worse was the thought of losing either her or Galen to violence. And, this was where Galen’s logic had obviously taken him. They couldn’t tolerate seeing Sally in danger; she felt the same about them.

So Galen wanted to quit.

Vance cleared his throat, unsettled at the rough sound. His partner turned, face dark, eyes remote, but Vance could read him. Always could, even from the start. Yeah, he loved the asshole, probably more than he’d have loved a real brother. “I’m not ready to quit the FBI.”

As Galen’s mouth tightened, Vance knew his response had hit his partner like a knife stroke.

Galen pulled in a breath. “I understand. I thought you might feel—”

“You talked,” Vance interrupted. “Let me finish, you pushy bastard.”

Galen blinked. His lips curved slightly as he stood straighter and crossed his arms over his chest in an intimidating alpha-male stance.

Vance stretched his legs out, settling down into the chair in a body-language response of: I’m comfortable even if you are standing.

Galen laughed.

Yeah, how many people would understand the unspoken maneuverings and find them funny?

Vance couldn’t see a life without Galen. And he didn’t want his loved ones’ terrified every day he went to work. There was a compromise, though. “I’m not ready to leave, but we’ve both turned down advancement into supervisory positions. Let me see if I can’t move into one of those. As long as they can station me here.”

“Seriously?”

“You’re right, bro. It’s time to get off the firing line. I might be three years younger, but I’m tired of waking up in a hospital.”

Galen sank into a chair. “Didn’t think you’d take this so well.”

“I’m the flexible one, remember?” Vance tipped his head back. The moon was rising, a waning ball of light glowing over the treetops. The lake was quiet. Peaceful. Yeah, he was tired of cold winters. Snow. Could see sitting out here with a beer after the kids went to bed. “What will you do? Can’t see you retiring.” Couldn’t see him giving up the thrill of the chase, either.

“I’m looking at starting an investigative company, specializing in locating whatever is missing—money, information, people. I have enough contacts to get it up and running.”

Would probably work, Vance thought. The clever bastard had a Master’s in business as well as criminology. He’d even started off in the white-collar crime division.

“I’ll manage. We’ll hire people for the fieldwork. To travel. Sally can do her computer magic from here.”

Vance’s mouth curved into a smile. “Clever. Very clever. You’re going to lure her away from corpses and blood-streaked apartments.”

Galen opened his hand. “Want in?”

Vance considered. He’d enjoy the work, and it was appealing to keep the partnership together. But no. “I want a few more years with the Feds. But after that, yes.” He shook his head. “Might be good to have a bit more space anyway…if we’re going to make this a formal sort of relationship.”

“I’m not sure how to do that,” Galen admitted. “Sally deserves a fancy wedding as well as legal protection.”

“Well, now, I’ve been thinking about that.”

Inside, Sally ended the call on her cell with mixed emotions.

Tate had been calling each week…just to get to know her again. This evening, after regaling her with Emma and Dylan stories, he’d mentioned their father. Apparently the children had told their friends about the fiasco of a dinner party…and what Sally had said. Sally was still remembered fondly by the townspeople. Her father was now being avoided.

She sighed, trying to pull up either anger or satisfaction or pity, but found an absence of any deep emotion. Her father truly wasn’t part of her life anymore.

And she had a new family.

Detouring to the kitchen, she glanced out the back door. Two men sitting at the end of the dock. No change there, dammit.

Growling to herself, Sally went into the great room. At least Glock would be some company. She dropped down on the couch and pulled Glock into her lap. After an indignant look, the cat stood and arranged himself more comfortably—in the same position.

“Jeez, you and Galen are real control freaks, aren’t you?” She scratched his chin.

His rumbling purr was both agreement and enjoyment.

At least someone was content. Well, apparently everyone except her. Her two men had finished their beers long ago and now just sat outside. Talking and laughing—easy laughter, which she hadn’t heard in far too long.

Fine.

Although three days had passed, Galen hadn’t mentioned their talk at Kari’s house and her concerns. That sure didn’t seem fair. He was always after her to express her emotions, and now he was ignoring her?

Of course they’d been swamped in paperwork. And healing.

Still, she needed to decide what to do. She’d wanted to give Galen a little extra time to think, but now she should speak with Vance and at least let him know her worries. Then again, Galen might well have told him.

Would she stay, even knowing how dangerous their jobs were? She sighed. Yes. Kari was right. If the job was what they needed to feel complete, she had no right to change them. She loved their dedication and the way their protectiveness extended to the whole world.

But it’d sure be horrid to watch them go to work each day. Sure, anyone could die, but the odds of being injured or killed were a lot higher for law-enforcement types. Hopefully she wouldn’t turn into as much of a worrywart as Galen.

But, whatever happened, she loved them. This is where I’ll be. In their home. In their bed. In their arms.

If she didn’t kill them herself before the week was out. What were they talking about? She stroked Glock’s long gray body. “So, fur ball, I’m not real happy about being left in here with just a cat for company. If you were their submissive, what would you do?”

An indifferent tail flick was her answer.

“No, leaving them alone to enjoy their evening isn’t the answer. I’m not nice.”

The kitty smirk showed Glock’s opinion of niceness. Felines didn’t do nice. Felines did sneaky.

“Sneaky. I can be sneaky.” She considered. “Maybe I should be a sweet service sub and take my men some fresh drinks. Excellent suggestion, Glock.”

When she dumped him on the couch, she could swear the annoyed cat called her one of the names Gabi had mentioned.

After grabbing beers from the fridge, Sally headed outside…quietly. Eavesdropping? Me? Surely not.

Their voices were low murmurs that blended far too well with the soughing of the breeze in the tree canopy and the gentle lapping of water against the pilings.

Demon Doms.

A rough patch of wood on the dock caught her foot, and the beer bottles clanked together. As the men turned toward her, she smiled. “I thought you might be ready for refills.”

“Did you now, pet?” Galen’s smile was too darned knowing. “That was thoughtful of you.”

Fine. She turned her back on him.

As Vance took his beer, he subjected her to a slow perusal. “Did you feel left out, sweetheart?”

Well, honestly, maybe she had felt left out, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be interrogated. Stupid Feds. She gave him a smile that was 90 percent sugar. “Don’t give yourself airs. I just brought you some beer.”

She set Galen’s beer on his chair arm and got three steps toward the house before one of them caught her shorts waistband and dragged her backward.

“Dammit, let me go!” She tried to twist around. Vance had her.

“Don’t think so. Here, bro. Catch.” Vance yanked sideways, flinging her toward Galen.

Galen leaned forward, grabbed her waist, and pulled her into his lap.

“Demon fucking Dom, I didn’t come out here to—” She shoved at his hands until he trapped her wrists in front of her. “Let go, you asshole!”

“The little ones are fun when they wiggle,” Galen said in a conversational voice.

“Got to agree with that.” Vance set his beer on the dock and pulled his chair closer as Sally glared at him. “Can’t say I care for that language—or attitude.” He regarded her. “Been a while since we spanked our little imp.”

Sally froze.

Both men burst out laughing, and it would only be justice if her glower could turn them into stone. Or at least boil their beer. But nooo.

Galen tightened his grip around her wrists before sliding his free hand under her shirt.

“No bra. Very nice.” A calloused finger circled one nipple before his palm cupped her whole breast. He kissed the curve between her neck and shoulder, sending goose bumps down her arms. “She smells like vanilla.”

Because she’d started to make the ungrateful bastards a cake.

“Yeah? Let’s see.” Vance pulled his chair next to Galen’s, and his hand went under her shirt, possessing her other breast before he kissed the other side of her neck. Two men touching her, kissing her. Her insides began to boil, melting her resistance, her anger, her hurt feelings.

Vance took her mouth in a long, deep, wet kiss. “Have I mentioned how much I love you, sweetheart?”

“I—”

“I love you, imp,” Galen whispered in her ear and nipped her earlobe, sending dark desire pooling in her belly.

“Mmm.” A hum had started under her skin. In the moonlight, their faces were shadowed, but her hands knew their shapes. She flattened a palm on each cheek. Galen’s hard beard stubble, Vance’s softer.

Galen set his hand over hers, turning his face enough to press a kiss to her palm. “Want to know what we were talking about, Ms. Curiosity?”

“I certainly would, Master Grumpy Pants.”

Galen’s grin flashed before he ran his fingers over the breast he’d captured and used his fingernails to pinch the very tip.

A tiny zing shot straight to her pussy. He tugged on the entire areola, and the boiling anticipation coursing through her made her squirm.

Vance curved his hand over her upper thigh, his weight stopping her wiggles, his fingers rubbing lightly against her pussy. “We were talking about you, of course.”

“Oh.” Right. Her curiosity rose, vying with her arousal. “Anything you want me to know?”

“Aren’t you just the well-behaved submissive?” Galen commented. His tone turned grave. “Yes, you need to know what we decided.”

Her heart seemed to stop, and she chilled despite the heat inside. Were they going to send her away? She swallowed back her fears and lifted her chin. They loved her, and if they’d decided on anything short of living together, they’d have a fight on their hands. “Spit it out.”

“I like when she gets all pissy.” Vance grinned at Galen before his gaze met hers. “Galen told me about your talk. Your concern about our jobs.”

Oh, no no no. They were going to call it quits. Ice invaded her bloodstream, and she had to clasp her hands together to keep them from shaking. “But I—I didn’t give Galen an ultimatum. I just said I was concerned.”

“Ah, but we’re giving you an ultimatum, pet,” Galen said softly.

Vance turned her face to his. “We’ll change to less risky jobs…”

Less risky? They’d be safe? The surge of relief was a massive roaring in her ears. Safe.

Galen finished, “But in return, you will marry us. Both of us.”

The roaring ceased as the word registered. The big M one. Marry? Her heart stopped. The world stopped.

She stared at Vance, at the certainty in his grin. At Galen with the calmness, the happiness in his smile. “Oh yes.”

Lunging out of the chair, she wrapped her arms around Vance’s neck and kissed him. “Yes. Yes, I will.” The kiss was possessive. Hot. “I love you so much.”

When Vance pulled back, he turned her around.

She put her hands on each side of Galen’s face and kissed him, trying to tell him without words how much she loved him.

They’d demanded she free herself from her past—and cared enough to change for her. She lifted her head, looked into Galen’s intense black eyes, and repeated, “Yes. Yes, I will.”

As she turned and wrapped an arm around each man, she frowned. “You’d better not go and get all depressed again, or next time I’m aiming for your balls.”

“Fuck, she’s a mean subbie,” Vance muttered before he recaptured her breast as if he had the right.

“Ayuh.” Galen slipped his hand between her legs. “But she’s our mean subbie.”