If Only

“Yeah. Dad didn’t set limits. Hell, he egged me on. And I bought right into his story, putting all the blame on you for Mom’s death. Cuz, I was angry. Grieving. She wasn’t my real mom, but I loved her.”

In the silence, a whine sounded, and the old Labrador shuffled up the steps to lean against Tate’s side with a gusty sigh.

Tate put his arm over the dog and ruffled its ears. “Funny, huh. She’s the one who taught me that love is more important than blood.”

Sally nodded. Her mother had loved everyone and everything. And back then, her father had—okay, he’d never wanted a daughter, but he hadn’t been cruel. After her mother died, the light had gone out of her father’s life, and he’d grown…twisted. “You changed with her death.”

“Yeah. Dad blamed you, so I did too. I took her loss out on you.” He shook his head. “As a kid, I felt kinda guilty about being mean to you. But now, when I imagine Dylan treating Emma the way I treated you…I’m sickened. God, Sally, I’m really sorry.”

She stared at his face, open to her scrutiny. Slowly, slowly, a knot in her chest started to loosen.

He was sorry. Yes, he’d been mean, but her father had been the one to make it a battle of them against her. Tate had been a teenager who’d lost a mother he loved, and her father had pointed the finger at her. Would she have been different if the roles were reversed? Hopefully so, but still… “I think I understand. And I forgive you.”

“Well, hell, sweetheart, you’re taking all the fun out of the evening. Your pa got to walk out, and now I don’t get to pound the crap out of your brother?” Vance grumbled, his tone light, but she recognized the underlying frustration. He really had wanted to beat someone up for her. She laid her hand over his and squeezed.

“Speaking of which… Since I’m now restored to big brother status”—Tate gave first Vance, then Galen a resolute stare—“would you explain exactly which one of you is with my sister?”

Oh my God. Sally held her breath.

“Both of us,” Galen said. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Tate blinked, obviously not anticipating a straight answer. Or to be put on the spot. He studied the men, and she remembered that about him. He never decided anything quickly. Finally, he spoke to Sally. “I liked the way they stood up for you, even after you left. But if they’re pushing you into something—”

“They’re not,” Sally said firmly.

“I guess that’s all right.” He stood up slowly and hesitated. “I just want you to know, you’ve got a place to come if you get into trouble. Or just need a home. Okay?”

Hell, she was going to cry after all. As tears ran down her cheeks, she pushed at Galen’s leg. With his hands around her waist, he helped her stand.

Sally took a step forward and hugged her brother. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Thank you for forgiving me, Sal.” He kissed the top of her head and stepped back, eyes gleaming with moisture. “I’ll just check on Leigh Anne. The kids are hoping you’ll come upstairs and say good night to them when you’re ready.”

“Will do.” As Tate disappeared into the house, Sally scrubbed the tears off her face. And a slow grin blossomed. Family. She had family. “I just realized—I’m an aunt.”

Chapter Seventeen

Lying on the king-size bed in his partner’s hotel room, dressed in just a pair of jeans, Vance felt his muscles unwinding. As usual when he and Galen traveled, they’d booked two rooms, although he damned well expected to spend tonight in this one.

But since the small hotel had equally small showers, Vance had left Galen to help Sally and had cleaned up in his room across the hall.

From the noise coming from the bathroom now, they should have an interesting evening. Galen wouldn’t let the imp reach climax…not yet.

Although Tate and Leigh Anne had offered their guest room, Sally had refused. Thank you, Jesus. She’d wanted to be with her Doms. And they wanted to be with her.

But he and Galen hadn’t had a chance to plan out the evening…aside from enforcing their displeasure at her running away.

After that, they’d show their pleasure that they were together again. Definitely that. That was a good enough plan for a scene.

He grinned at the sound of her giggles and Galen’s deep laugh. His partner hadn’t been so happy in a long time. He’d needed someone like Sally to remind him that life held more than work.

Vance needed her too. It wasn’t until she had asked him about his wife, that he’d realized how much he’d avoided any serious involvement with women. Yeah, he’d been as much of a coward as Galen had.

And he trusted Sally. Really did. Yes, she’d deceived them about the hacking and sometimes about her feelings, but she’d never cheat on him. She didn’t have a disloyal bone in her body.

She had a sense of honor that he could respect. A rather interesting sense of honor, in fact, remembering her statement in the cabana. “And if you ask me if your hips look fat in a dress, I’ll tell you the truth.” Grinning, he looked up as the noise escalated in the bathroom.

“But I want a robe,” Sally whined as the door opened.

“No point.” Galen pushed her out into the hotel room and returned to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Her hair was clipped on top of her head; her eyes were bright. Her full breasts were waiting for Vance’s hands. Nipples puckered and erect.

“Oh now, that’s nice,” Vance murmured.

She was already pink from the hot shower—and arousal—but at his look, her color deepened and she tried to cover herself with her hands. “Uh, you’re already here.”

He grinned. “Sweetheart, you’ve sucked our dicks, had us inside you just about every way possible, had our mouths everywhere—how can you possibly feel modest?”

“I don’t know. Because I’m in Iowa?” With the prettiest laugh a woman ever had, she jumped on the bed and flopped on top of him. Moist skin, scented with lotion, soft woman.

He’d died, bounced off hell, and gone straight to paradise.

He ran his hands past her lush ass to open her legs, and yanked her up, straddling him. Her pussy rested on his cock, and he could feel the heat right through his jeans.

When he rubbed upward, her eyes drooped, half-lidded. “Are we going to play?” Her voice came out husky.

“Soon. Talk, punishment, talk, sex. I think that’s how it’ll go.”

Her frown wrinkled her brow. “Why can’t we jump straight to the sex? Isn’t it better to finish making up?”

Where was Galen? The inconsiderate bastard was still in the bathroom—probably shaving—leaving Vance to answer questions. Maybe because Vance had been the moron who’d felt Sally shouldn’t escape the consequences of her actions. Not if their relationship was to continue. And he wanted that more than he could say.

“It’s like this, Sally.” With Sally still on his lap, he worked his way up to a half-sitting position with his back against the headboard. “Galen lost his temper and yelled at you.”

“He did.”

At her pout, he grinned. He knew full well she put on that cute face just for effect. Even better, she knew that he knew, so she didn’t do it to manipulate…but rather for fun. “Galen and I yelled at each other after that.”

“More than shouting. You hit each other.” She gently touched the purple bruises over his gut, his ribs. His jaw.

“True, but that’s what”— brothers do—“we do, whether it’s mature or not. Then we get on with life.” Would he ever get tired of looking into eyes of such a rich brown? Or of running a finger over her plump lower lip…which was still sticking out slightly. “Unfortunately, it’s difficult to get on with life if one of the people is halfway across the country.”

Her gaze dropped. “You’re angry because you had to follow me here?”

“No, sweetheart, we’re unhappy because you scared us to death when you disappeared. You usually tackle problems head-on. Why not this time?” Ah, but she didn’t deal well with emotional upsets. She’d run from them before. “Red red red.” Safeworded out of a scene, quit the Shadowlands, all because they’d gotten too close and she’d felt too vulnerable. So this time—

“I saw you punch Galen,” she admitted. “My fault. You’ve been friends forever, and you were fighting each other because of what I’d done.”

A movement caught his eye. Clad in jeans, Galen leaned against the bathroom door frame. Yep, he’d shaved. He jerked his chin for Vance to continue.

All right. “You felt guilty because you’d upset us,” he fed back. “Maybe Galen hurt your feelings by yelling at you?”

She shrugged as if that part was unimportant.

Bullshit. When she forgot to hide, her face was as expressive as her body was responsive. “You told us you loved us, and before the night was over, Galen was yelling at you.”

Touchdown. Her eyes turned liquid, and she looked away. “I know why he yelled now. But it hurt.”

“I’m sorry, Sally,” Galen said, walking to stand beside the bed, pain obvious in his face.