“You fucking asshole. I just got the brass talked into offering her a job.”

“Now there’s a pity.” Galen grinned briefly, then sobered. “Did Kari have trouble with your job?”

“Oh yeah, for a few months. Now she’s okay. But from what you said, Sally has suffered more loss than Kari. And has less family.” He rose and looked down at Galen. “If she takes you on, she’ll have two lovers at risk every day. You going to ask that of her?”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. You think about it. Better yet, talk about it. Fuck, I’ve learned recently that sometimes—Dom or not—there’s no understanding what’s in a woman’s head.” Dan tipped his bottle in a salute. “I’m going to see what Kari has planned for tomorrow. It’s Father’s Day—my first.”

As Dan walked into the house, Galen repositioned his injured leg and tamped down his feeling of envy for the lucky bastard. Yeah, time to start looking toward the future.

In the west, the sunset slowly faded, leaving behind pink streamers like the sad remnants of a party.

* * *

Sally held Zane in her arms, swaying back and forth, nuzzling his neck. He smelled like soap and baby powder—and love. Something about holding him settled her. With an adorable grin, he hit her nose with the rattle he held.

“Sheesh. I guess guys are just born violent,” she muttered.

Kari finished putting away the stack of baby clothes and laughed. “Nah. My cousin’s daughter pulled her hair so often that she started wearing it on top of her head.” She pointed to the rocking chair in the corner. “Sit. He gets heavier with every minute you hold him.”

Sally grinned and bounced Zane, making him squeal with laughter. “Yep, he’s definitely getting heavier.” After settling into the chair, she looked over at her friend. “Kari?”

“Mmmhmm.” Another stack of clothing got tucked away.

“Doesn’t Dan’s job ever bother you? That he could get hurt?”

Kari turned, saw Sally’s expression, and sank down onto the ottoman. “Oh, you got the cop’s wife syndrome. No wonder, after today.”

“Yeah.” She kissed Zane’s soft cheek, trying to keep the memories at bay.

“Yes, it bothered me. A lot. Still kinda does.” She gave Sally a wry smile. “Although we talked about it, he could only promise that he’d be careful. The thing is, being a cop is who he is. Right down to the bone. And I can’t love him and ask him to be someone different.”

“I guess.” Sally rocked a little faster, thrilling Zane, who decided to stand on her lap and bounce along. Didn’t sound as if there was a good answer. But she was sure she now knew how Galen had felt when he was worried about her safety. God, how did he stand it? She gave Kari a bright smile. “You and Dan look…happier.”

“Last night was…” Kari sighed with a happy smile. “Like we were before Zane.” She rubbed a finger over her lips. “Maybe even lovelier.”

“How’s that?”

“We know each other better. I trust him even more because I’ve seen him with Zane. Dan really is as protective and caring and strong as I thought in the beginning. And when he cuddles our son, I just melt”—she gave Sally a mischievous look—“in a whole different way than seeing him in black leathers.”

“You are too much.” Sally lifted Zane and blew a raspberry on his belly.

“Sally, I owe you thanks for pushing me into talking with Dan,” Kari said softly. “And so I’m going to do you the same favor. Talk with your guys. It’s truly easy to decide someone is thinking about one thing, when really, you’ve got a whole different problem.”

Hmm. And what had that discussion between Dan and Kari been about? Sally wondered. But she’d probably never know. Some women shared all. Others didn’t. Sally nodded. “I will. In fact, can I sit up here and sing lullabies to Zane while I think?”

“Of course.”

* * *

Galen rubbed his face. Exhaustion, aching bones, lacerations—God, he felt old. And frustrated. He’d worried and worked to keep Sally safe, and instead she’d ended up front and center in a bloodbath. Insisted on being there. God, she was brave.

The door to the house creaked; Sally stepped out on the patio. With just the sight of her, his muscles and bones and soul seemed to inhale contentment. She was alive. No longer in danger.

She gave him an uncertain look, something he never wanted to see from her. “Can I join you or—”

“I can’t think of anything I’d like better.” He reached out.

She took his hand with cold fingers. Resisting his attempt to pull her onto his lap, she edged his legs apart and knelt between them.

Seeing her unhappy expression, he wasn’t tempted by her provocative position. Instead he ran his hand down her silky hair. “Tell me.”

She lowered her gaze…and he permitted it…for the moment. “Um,” she said and paused briefly. “I knew your job was dangerous, but I didn’t know—imagine—how dangerous. But you told me how you and Vance got shot up. I watched Tillman’s funeral. Saw his children.”

Look at her, launching herself right at the heart of the matter. Before he’d known her—back when he’d just watched her in the club, she’d been a bossy little sub. Finding out that she’d hidden her emotions had come as a surprise. But now she was still a bossy little sub, and even better, she was hiding no longer. He was wicked proud of her. “Go on.”

“I…I just wanted you to know that I’m struggling with it. I know I can’t ask you to give up your careers for safer ones, but…”

He chuckled. “Seems we’ve been having the same arguments with ourselves. You see, Vance and I planned to ask you to not take a job in a police station because they stress you out.”

“You’d choose my job for me?” A sparkle of anger lit in her eyes.

Galen shook her head. No, she wouldn’t want to give up her dream of working in law enforcement. She wanted to be a hero.

“Not because of the danger.” At the slight lift of her chin, he admitted, “Not entirely. But face it, pet, you don’t sleep well if you have to visit crime scenes.”

“I haven’t noticed you sleeping all that well either, Mr. Big Shot Special Agent.”

“I don’t have a pro—” He stopped his automatic…idiotic…response, because she was right. How many years had it been since he slept without worrying about problems? Or having nightmares?

Each new case dragged him further toward—he stroked her hair and smiled—toward what the imp would call the dark side. If he continued, would he be able to fight his way free?

Earlier, Z had stated the Association was finished, and Galen had been happy, feeling as if he’d stepped into the sunlight.

Slowly but surely, his life had grown…narrower. Less balanced. Even with Sally to love, he didn’t see that changing.

So, what was he planning to bring to a relationship? To Sally?

As he looked down at the submissive at his feet, at his sweet imp, he knew he didn’t want to spend his life in darkness. Didn’t want to drag her down either, because, being Sally, she’d dive in to help.

And she’d worry when he got pulled back into another case. She’d be right. He wasn’t able to distance himself from the cases he took. He never had been.

Apparently, she wasn’t the only person who wanted to be a hero.

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.”