If only

Galen and Vance had swung by to drop off the girl’s information, as well as a thank-you bottle of Aberfeldy 21 single malt, which Galen had picked up during a Scotland trip.

Near the gate, Vance halted. “Listen.”

Women were laughing somewhere in the gardens. One giggling voice was like water over a stony creek bed. “Is that Sally?”

“I’ve never heard her sound like that.” Vance headed toward the gaiety.

Galen noiselessly followed him down a path into the gardens, remembering his hunting days. Stalking the prey.

Words became distinct, and Vance stopped.

Galen leaned against a convenient tree and listened. Not very gentlemanlike behavior, Kouros. But how could a Dom resist? After a minute, he laughed silently and mimicked tipping up a bottle. The ladies were drinking and had been at it for a while.

Vance nodded. He crossed his arms over his chest and settled in.

“I was so mad,” Sally told the women. “I mean, yeah, I shouldn’t have, but sweet Jesus on a pogo stick, they announced to everyone I’d been faking getting off.”

Yes, he could see how that would bother her. But why had she needed to pretend? And it hadn’t been her first time. He and Vance had spoken with Z about that very matter.

“You and the Feds?” Galen recognized Kim’s voice. “What do you think of them?”

Interesting question. He leaned forward as the pause continued.

“Well, one minute I think they’re nice, and the next I think they’re total dipwads. Manipulative bastards.”

Galen bit back a laugh.

Jessica snorted. “Sounds like the definition of a Dom?”

“Well, maybe. And their two-to-one stuff is…”

Galen sighed and jerked his head at his partner. Not fair to be listening to private conversation, no matter how interesting. But the draw of Sally’s open laughter had been irresistible.

Vance gave him an annoyed, then rueful expression, and they retreated quietly.

“You ethical bastard. She’d just gotten to the good stuff,” Vance said, holding open the gate to the parking lot.

“True.” Galen smiled. “But I like to think we’re honorable—even if we are dipwads.”

“Pretty sure she only meant you.” Vance frowned. “She sounded different.”

“Yeah, she did.” Galen limped across the concrete, as always, annoyed to see his partner shorten his stride and slow. “Notice she talked about how she felt?”

“Because she was intoxicated.”

“Exactly. She certainly doesn’t share if not under the influence.” Galen frowned. “Why would a lovely woman close herself down?” And why did the vulnerable expression he’d seen on her face last week pull at him?

“Good question.” Vance slid into the driver’s seat. “Let’s find out.”

* * *

Oh boy, she should’ve stopped drinking a lot earlier. After a quick shower and change in Jessica and Z’s guest room, she took their private stairway into the Shadowlands. Carefully. Screaming orgasm—the drink that kept on giving, cuz she sure wasn’t sober. Ben would probably turn her away if she went in the front door.

A long gauze skirt and a makeshift scarf tied around her breasts served as her outfit. Thank God Z preferred the trainees barefoot; she’d have busted an ankle in heels.

She’d missed the trainee lineup and inspection. Master Cullen would be displeased. But since she didn’t barmaid until the second shift, her lateness wouldn’t upset service.

Members packed the room. To her fuzzy brain, the music and conversations sounded awfully loud, and people moved too fast.

At the bar, she waited for Cullen to see her. On her left, a Domme in a motorcycle jacket, black latex pants, and boots was chatting with a couple of newer submissive women. On her right, a group of older Doms discussed service protocols.

“’Bout time you arrived.” Master Cullen in his brown leathers gave her a long look. “You’ve still got an hour to play before your shift starts. Do you have a Dom lined up or someone in mind?”

Sally winced. How many of the Doms would think—or know—that she’d faked getting off? “I—”

“She’s been drinking and can’t even walk in a straight line, Cullen.” The word drinking somehow had changed to drinkin’; can’t had been transformed into cahn’t.

At the sound of Galen’s down-east accent, Sally stiffened and turned.

As usual, he wore black slacks and shirt—similar to Master Z—but Galen’s dress shirt was broadcloth rather than silk. Kouros wasn’t a silk kind of guy.

He continued, “Perhaps she can wait tables now and have the second shift off.”

Vance’s big hand came down on her shoulder. “Galen and I would like to play with her. But not until she’s sober.”

“I’m not—” Sally knocked Vance’s arm away and turned back to Cullen. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Fuck, I hate when she lies,” Vance growled. He gripped her hair, tilting her face up. His eyes were cold. “Are you seriously telling Cullen you’re sober?”

“I…” She couldn’t lie. “No. I’m not completely sober.”

“No one does a scene if under the influence.” Frowning, Cullen rested his thickly muscled forearm on the bar. He said to Galen, “Thanks for the heads-up. Sally, you’re assigned to cleaning tables. Check back with me in an hour.”

Stupid, interfering, know-it-all Feds. When she glared at Galen, a line in his right cheek deepened, showing his amusement. She realized he had more than a five-o’clock shadow, as if he hadn’t shaved earlier.

Andrea, Cullen’s submissive, who’d been listening, set a big mug of coffee in front of Sally and winked.

“As for later,” Master Cullen said, “Sally, I’ve heard what the members think of a trainee playing them for fools. There won’t be more punishment, pet, but I can’t do anything about your reputation with the Doms.”

Master Cullen usually had a smile, but not now. He was serious and…unhappy with her. Everyone was unhappy with her. Like in the beginning of the Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy realized she couldn’t do anything right.

Sally stared at the bar. Why didn’t I just stay home? “I understand.”

“Tonight, you’re assigned to Master Galen and Master Vance. They can work with you on honesty.” Master Cullen’s expression was troubled. “I know you didn’t fake an orgasm with any of the Masters, love, but we also never pushed you for more than light submission. We don’t usually. Emotional vulnerability is given to a long-term Dom, but we should’ve caught on to how much you were hiding from us.”

The sting of tears had her dropping her gaze again. She’d disappointed everyone.

Cullen set a tray on the bar next to her mug. “Finish the coffee; then get to work.”

Vance ran his knuckles over her cheek. “It’s not that bad, sweetheart. This will pass.” Sympathy warmed his eyes. “We’ll find you in a couple of hours. Here at the bar.”

Even as a thrill ran through her at his touch, she couldn’t suppress her glance at the door.

His hand curved under her chin, and he tilted her face up. “Sally, don’t try to leave early.”

Bossy Dom. “No, Sir. Wouldn’t think of it, Sir.”

When Galen raised an eyebrow, she flushed. Dammit, he’d probably gag her again.

* * *

Seated near the middle of the club room, Galen smiled as the little black trainee handed him a bottle of water. “Thank you, Uzuri.”

“You’re welcome, Sir.” Watching her trot away, he shook his head. Her smile had been one of the sweetest he’d ever seen, but her dark eyes said watch out for pranks.

He looked forward to the upcoming scene with her fellow mischief maker, the imp named Sally. Propping his feet on the coffee table, he watched Vance work with a newer Dom, showing the knots best for rope bondage. For the past couple of hours, they’d wandered through the main room, helping out, answering questions, even