Tymber Dalton - Safe Harbor

Mac returned to the wheelhouse. Sully took a plate to Mac, then returned and sat across from her with his breakfast. She stole glances at him. Brown hair, a little grey around the temples. Piercing grey eyes. He didn’t try to coax her to talk, something she felt extremely grateful for.

After fifteen minutes, he spoke. “So how much did you see last night? Of us on deck?”

She looked up, startled. He wore a smile she could describe as playful.

She blushed and glanced away. “Enough. I’m sorry.”

When he gently touched the back of her hand, she forced herself not to pull away.

“I hope we didn’t scare you. Seeing us like that.”

She shook her head. No, she hadn’t been scared. She tried to fight the sudden throbbing in her nether regions. What a totally inappropriate response to her memory of the sight of the two hunks…

Yowza.

“You didn’t scare me,” she managed. “I mean…” She had to swallow to form spit. “I’m scared, but not of you guys.” She closed her eyes. “I just feel so freaking stupid for not leaving him the first time.”

His fingers slipped around her hand. He gently squeezed before letting go and withdrawing his hand. “We meant it when we said we’ll protect you.” He paused. “We have a very large house, plenty of room. If you don’t mind our relationship, if that doesn’t bother you, we can work something out.”

Before she could reply, he stood and took his empty plate to the sink.

Tempting. So tempting. Why did he have to be a damn cop?

“Mac’s sister was murdered,” Sully said from where he stood at the sink. He turned and leaned against the counter. “He might come off as overbearing in some ways. I just wanted to tell you why he’s latched onto you. Her husband murdered her. Mac found her, she hadn’t died yet. The guy beat her to death. They pulled life support after several days.”

He left her chewing that over as he climbed the stairs to the wheelhouse.

She finished her breakfast and washed her dishes. Then she hunted down her toothbrush and toothpaste and went to the head. In daylight, she realized how horrible and pitiful she appeared. Her eye wasn’t as swollen, but the awful purple and green bruises looked almost worse. The split lip hurt. Thank God she still had all her teeth.

She peeled down her jeans so she could use the toilet and noticed those bruises also starting to fade although they still looked ugly.

She changed clothes, felt marginally better, and applied copious amounts of deodorant to take care of the worst of her stench. When she returned to the main cabin, the men were still in the wheelhouse.

She remembered to replace the envelope of paperwork, then climbed up to join them.

Both men offered friendly smiles. She noticed they’d passed Anclote Island. At idle speed, it’d take another half-hour to reach the marina.

She edged around the men so she stood on Mac’s far side, with him separating her from Sully. She watched their eyes, how they studied her injuries.

Their pity.

“We want to offer you a deal,” Sully said. Mac stayed silent.

“Please, hear us out. You can stay with us. There’s only a couple of things I’ll require.”

She tensed again. “No, I’ll go somewhere. I’ll—”

“Can I finish?”

She nodded.

He ticked them off on his fingers. “As you’ve seen, Mac and I have an unusual relationship. We only demand respect, not endorsement or participation from you. You will see things that might disturb you, but they are consensual. We don’t expect you to do any of it, just let us live our life. We expect you to respect our privacy and not talk about our private life with others. We’ll protect you, but you can’t have contact with your ex. You’ll have to listen to us and do what we say in regard to handling that situation. You must give us total honesty, because that’s a firm, unbreakable rule in our home.

Absolutely no lying allowed.”

She waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she asked, “That’s it?”

“That’s the important and nonnegotiable stuff. You can pay rent, or you can work for us. You don’t bring people over without letting us know first so we’re not…” He arched an eyebrow at her.

“Obviously so we’re not outed, so to speak. You’re free to come and go as you please, but if you’re going out, you keep in touch so we know you’re okay. It only makes sense for you to stay with us. You should be close to Tad, and we have the room.”

“Work for you?”

“Help Mac on the boat. You already know the ropes.” He smiled.

“No pun intended. Help me at home, too. I could use an assistant.

We’ll pay cash and trade room and board for chores.”

“Chores?” she nervously asked.

Sully smiled. “Yeah, chores. You know, washing dishes, doing errands, vacuuming. Not like blow jobs.”

She finally let out a tired laugh before returning his smile.

“Okay.”

Sully stuck out his hand. “Deal?”

She nodded and hesitantly shook hands with him. “Deal. Thank you.”

They returned to dock. Clarisse seemed to fall into her old patterns. She climbed onto the port gunwale as Mac eased the Dilly backward into her slip. She kept watch to make sure they didn’t hit, grabbed lines, jumped onto the dock, and deftly wrapped the line around the cleat. Sully grabbed the starboard side.

Sully offered her his hand as she moved to jump down to the deck. He didn’t miss her hesitation before she finally reached out and took it. As soon as she’d regained her footing, she pulled her hand from his.

Still scared.

Beautiful despite her injuries, she had blue eyes and long, black hair halfway down her back that, combined with her sweet rounded curves, made his cock stand up and take notice. He’d never preferred skinny women. Despite his honest reassurances, his ex-wife had struggled with her weight, constantly working out and dieting, usually miserable and grouchy the entire time, never happy with herself.

Clarisse was a beautiful woman. A real woman.

A woman terrified of him.

Mac helped her with her luggage. After securing the boat and connecting the Dilly to shore power, they headed for Mac’s truck.

She had to ride between them. Sully didn’t miss how she tended to stick closer to Mac’s side of the seat while he drove. Sully tried to observe her out of the corner of his eye as they rode toward the house.

They lived in a small, private, gated community. Their waterfront house on Spring Bayou, a large, sprawling one-story stilt home on a huge double lot, sat near the end of a cul-de-sac. Mac parked next to Sully’s Jaguar sedan and shut the truck off.

Clarisse stared, stunned. “You guys live here?” She knew location alone meant the house had to be expensive.

Mac smiled. “Be it ever so humble and all that crap.”

Clarisse noticed Sully didn’t help Mac with her bags. She started to grab her duffle bag, but Mac waved her off. “I’ve got it, sweetie.

That’s my job. You go on upstairs with him.”

Sully had already climbed halfway up the stairs. A large enclosed room filled the space beneath the house. “Utility room, exercise equipment, and storage,” he explained, pointing at the downstairs room.

She nodded and followed.

Sully unlocked the door and ushered her into the foyer, where he deactivated the alarm. Unpretentious decor, but the furnishings weren’t crap, either. These men lived well, obviously didn’t flaunt it, and the house seemed spotless. A textured Berber carpet, white walls with earth-tone accents, beautiful photographs on the walls. A lot of landscapes, but a few of the men together. A very masculine feel overall.

When Mac walked through the door with her bags, he looked at Sully.

“Take them to the larger guest room,” he told Mac. “The one with the bathroom.” He walked over to a pass-through kitchen counter and laid his keys down. “Can I get you anything to drink or eat?”

She shook her head and slowly walked around the large living room. These men had built a nice life for themselves. Pictures of the two of them showed a happy couple very much in love.

In one, Mac sat on a fence while Sully stood next to him. They looked at each other, blatant love in their gazes…

Clarisse stifled a sob. She’d never felt like that before. Damn sure never felt that way about Bryan.

She tried to rein in her emotions. Exhausted and beat half to death, she felt barely sane and needed a shower.

Mac returned from wherever he’d taken her bags. Clarisse turned to speak to him, then realized his full attention had focused on Sully.

She glanced at Sully and found him staring at Mac. After a long, nearly awkward moment, Sully spoke in a quiet, firm voice. “Don’t make me tell you.”

When Mac’s gaze nervously flicked her way, a horrible feeling washed through her. Maybe she’d terribly misjudged these men.

Without thinking, she edged a step backward, closer to the front door.

Mac finally spoke. “Please?”

Sully leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “All right, fine. Just remember it has to happen sooner rather than later. Shorts if you insist, but that means you owe me five strokes.”

Mac nodded before disappearing into another room.

Sully smiled. “We warned you, we have a…different lifestyle.”

He walked into the kitchen. She heard him rummaging around, then water running, followed by a coffeepot gurgling a moment later.

She didn’t move. “Different how?” she finally asked. Her voice sounded way too weak for the cavernous cathedral ceiling.