Servicing the Target

by Cherise Sinclair

  Her mother was her usual bubbly self.

  Her father…well, Anne had accepted his apology. And what an apology it’d been.

  She smiled, thinking of how her parents had arrived last and walked onto the deck. She’d risen, worried at the tentative look on their faces. She’d thought the small box her father carried was candy, his traditional get-out-of-the-doghouse offering for her mother. But, oh, it hadn’t been…

  After setting the box on the table, he turned to Anne, lines carved deeply into his hard face. “I’m sorry. Sorry for not seeing you as more than my baby. Sorry I treated you and your brothers differently, that I didn’t support you and recognize how much you’ve achieved. You deserved better from me.” His eyes gleamed with moisture. “I really am very proud of you.”

  She could only stare. How many years had she longed to hear him say that? “Really?” she whispered.

  Her mother smiled…and her father’s firm, make-it-so nod said he meant every word.

  “Oh, Dad.” Her eyes blurred with tears as she threw herself into his arms.

  His hug hadn’t changed…and she realized Ben’s embrace conveyed the very same sense of safety and strength.

  When Anne stepped back, her mother patted his arm in approval. “Well done, dear. And?”

  “Ah.” He cleared his throat and his lips curved slightly. “Your mother and I are sorry about…when you were little.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. Where did this come from? “When I was little?”

  “I should have been more understanding, made things easier for you. The relocations weren’t good for you. So…” At a loss, he slid the box across the table toward her.

  Still confused, she set her hand on it. “Oh, Dad. Mom.” They were sorry she hadn’t dealt well with moving? “You couldn’t have changed any—”

  The box…bounced. Tilted. “What in the world?”

  When she pulled the tape off and raised the lid, a tiny furball emerged.

  Ears pricked, the tiger-striped kitten looked up at Anne and gave a pitiful mew.

  “Oh, honey.” Pink nose, golden eyes, so adorable. Anne lifted it against her chest and a little fuzzy head rubbed her neck. When the purrs began, her heart was lost.

  Now she glanced at the exhausted kitten asleep in Travis’s lap. Quite an apology gift—and from the way her mother had winked at Ben, she knew exactly who’d had a hand in the choice. Sneaky guard dog.

  After that, the gathering had been a decided success.

  Unfortunately, the peace was going to be short-lived. Anne sighed. She couldn’t stall the announcement much longer.

  Feet dragging, she walked over to her man.

  Travis tucked an arm around her hips as she stood between him and Ben. “Thanks for having the barbecue, sis, to give us a chance to get back together.”

  “Can’t have the family fighting,” she said lightly.

  “Some families can. I’m glad you’ve got a healthy chunk of sweetness under all that tough.” He squeezed her, and his voice roughened. “I missed you, sis. Missed listening to your sax in the evenings.”

  She frowned. “You told me you could hardly hear me.”

  “Get real. I’m next door.” He grinned. “If I’d told you I was listening, you’d stop.”

  Her smack on the back of his head cut short his laugh.

  “You deal with her, Ben,” he said, rubbing his head. “She’s too mean for me.”

  “I’ll do that.” Ben pulled her down onto his lap.

  When she narrowed her eyes at his presumption, he gave her the same look back. Ah, right. She’d asked him to remind her when she relapsed into Mistress habits—and warned him that if he failed, she’d punish him with an oversized anal plug.

  “Sorry, my tiger.” She leaned her head against his shoulder and relaxed, knowing his strength wouldn’t fail her.

  A corner of his mouth tipped up.

  She lifted his hand, kissed the scarred knuckles, and whispered, “I love you.”

  “Anne.” His almost inaudible voice held enough warmth to rival the sun. With one finger, he pushed her hair back and murmured into her ear, “You just gave me a hard-on that’s fucking uncomfortable. Thanks.”

  She broke out laughing.

  When she turned around, she realized everyone had gone silent.

  Travis and her mother and Harrison’s wife were smiling in approval, Harrison was giving Ben a considering stare, and her father was frowning darkly.

  Well, that frown would turn even blacker with her news.

  “I haven’t heard you laugh like that in a while.” Travis lifted his fork with a big bite of the cake. “Must say that I appreciate how there are always desserts around since Ben’s been here.”

  Anne gave him an assessing look. “Is that why you’ve stopped by so often in the past month?”

  “Hell, yeah.” Travis grinned at Ben. “Thanks, man.”

  “Anne.” Her father inclined his head toward several men rounding the corner of her deck. “You have company.”

  Those weren’t just men; they were Masters. Anne shot Ben a glance.

  He gave her a rueful shrug. Undoubtedly, the guard dog had reported in to Z—as had everyone else. And the Masters never postponed dealing with problems.

  Anne rose and smacked his head in exactly the same way she had her brother—and received an identical laugh.

  “May we come up?” Z called.

  Honestly, why did everyone act as if her deck was a ship and required naval courtesy? “Of course. Join us.” She glanced around. “Mom and Dad, these are old friends of mine. Zachary Grayson, Cullen O’Keefe, Galen Kouros, Dan Sawyer.” She accompanied the introductions with casual gestures indicating which man was which.

  And wasn’t this awkward, considering she wasn’t about to tell her family in what context she knew the guys. “Gentlemen, my parents, Stephan and Elaine Desmarais. And my sister-in-law and brothers, Alison, Harrison, and Travis.”

  With brows drawn, her father noted the chin lifts Ben received from his friends.

  With his effortless charm, Z acknowledged the introductions before moving right into the reason for the visit. “Our apologies for the interruption, Anne, but we wanted to determine that you were unharmed, to report on your belligerent visitors, and to interfere with your future.”

  Kitten held in one arm, Travis took a step forward. “Are the assholes still in jail?”

  Z’s smile went thin. “The man’s wife had already filed a complaint of domestic violence. Add last night with armed break-in, assault and battery with a deadly weapon—he and his cohorts won’t see freedom any time soon.”

  “Excellent,” Anne said. Nonetheless, she and Ben would install a security system.

  “My turn.” Cullen’s repentant gaze met hers. “You’re one of the finest we have—and we’ve been friends for years. I fucked up, and all I can do is hope you’ll take pity on me and forgive me.”

  Oh honestly. An exasperated laugh escaped. Trust Cullen to tackle an apology right out in front of everyone. “Of course, I forgive you. I overreacted as well.”

  Cullen’s deep laugh boomed out. “You did, love, but I lit the match. I’m sorry, Anne.” He rubbed a bruise on his jaw. “Ben made it clear I was out of line.”

  Ben had punched his oldest friend in the Shadowlands? At Anne’s startled glance, he shrugged, totally unconcerned.

  Yes, he really had.

  “I told you he was more your guard dog than mine,” Z said quietly.

  What had she taken on? But all she felt was delight that her child would have such a marvelous protector—much as her father and brothers had been for her.

  However, Ben was a man who could and would step back and let his baby fly when the time came. She squeezed his hand and watched his smile warm.

  “Still friends?” Cullen asked her softly, holding his arms out.

  “Oh fine.” She took the step forward and hugged him.

  He gave a huge sigh of relief. “I really am
sorry, Anne.”

  “You really are forgiven.”

  “Told you she had more fun going on than we knew about,” she heard Travis tell Harrison.

  Ben had joined Z and was saying he planned to quit. “I know you prefer your staff to be”—he saw her family was in earshot—“focused only on the job.” Because Z preferred vanilla guards.

  But Ben enjoyed being the club’s security guard. Anne moved forward to interrupt.

  “Anne,” Cullen said. “Z and I will get out of your hair. And we’ll see you this weekend.” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her an unyielding stare.

  She could go back to the Shadowlands, she realized. Go to her other home. Her vision went blurry with tears.

  “No, no, don’t do that, sweetie. Damn.” Cullen yanked her in his arms again. “You’re breaking my heart here.”

  Stupid, stupid hormones.

  But leaving the Shadowlands had hurt. It really had.

  He tipped her face up and used his thumbs to wipe the tears from her face, and his obvious dismay mended the aching wound in her soul.

  She pulled in a breath. “I’m fine. Be off with you—and I’ll see you next weekend.”

  “That-a-girl.” He grinned at her warning growl. After nodding to her family and giving Ben a chin lift, he asked, “Ready to go, Z?”

  Z didn’t answer, his gaze on Anne. With narrowed eyes, he was studying her like a Dom, like a Master of Masters, taking in the dampness of her cheeks, how her hand had settled on her low belly, her shirt that was a bit tighter because of her fuller breasts.

  After a second, his dark gray eyes warmed. He’d figured it out.

  But, with his usual tact, he simply returned to his conversation. “Benjamin, I think you’ll find yourself…busier …in the future. I’ll increase Ghost’s hours and leave it up to the two of you how you wish to cover the position.”

  Ben nodded. “Works for me. For us both.”

  Anne exchanged a glance with him, smiling, as she remembered the last time they’d scened together at the club. How hot it had been. Now they could continue. After all, Kari and Dan had a child and still enjoyed an occasional night at the Shadowlands for kink and loving.

  Z turned and touched her cheek lightly. “Anne.” He said nothing more, but somehow managed to convey his affection and concern—and approval.

  After smiling at Ben, he joined Cullen and they headed off the deck.

  “Who were they?” her father was asking her mother. “And why did—”

  Galen moved forward. “My turn.”

  “Turn for what?” Anne regarded him.

  Black hair, black eyes, olive complexion. He hadn’t lost any of his intensity when he’d gone from being an FBI special agent to owning his own company. Maybe because his organization specialized in finding missing things—children, documents, people, secrets. Sally, the wife and submissive he shared with his partner Vance, adored tracking down money.

  “His turn to talk to you,” Dan explained with a scowl. “He won the toss. He gets to go first.”

  “Oh, well, of course.” Seriously, how did men function with all that testosterone tripping them up?

  Galen nodded to the empty table on the other side of the deck, distant enough that her family couldn’t eavesdrop without being too obvious.

  She glanced at her parents, “Can you—”

  Her mother shooed her off with a gesture. “We’re fine. They drove all this way to speak with you. Go ahead, dear.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” When she checked Ben, he simply smiled and stayed beside her brother.

  As soon as she took a seat across from the two Doms, Galen leaned forward and fixed her with his dark gaze. “I have a proposal for you.”

  “What kind—”

  “Come and work for me.”

  “What?” Too many surprises in one day, in one month. If this kept up, her baby was going to be born hooked on adrenaline.

  Not waiting for her to recover, Galen continued. His new company was inundated with contracts to find missing people: runaways, wives, husbands, stolen children, embezzlers…everything. And she had a reputation as being the best skip tracer in the business. She could write her own ticket—work full time or part time, set her own hours—and he’d pay her three times what she’d earned at the bail bond company.

  “Problems?” Ben was suddenly beside her. He rested a hand on her shoulder in concern. He’d probably seen the shock in her face.

  “Actually, no.” Galen’s offer would solve her employment problem. Much as she’d loved the active part of bail bond pickups, she couldn’t put her unborn child at risk. “Galen offered me a position with his company. No travel. No danger. My own hours.”

  Ben squatted beside her. “You know I can support us both while…uh, for a while. There’s no rush to find a job.”

  “Damn you, Haugen.” Galen’s annoyance turned his New England accent even crisper than normal. “Don’t listen to him, Anne. You’d be bored within a week. If we—”

  A hum interrupted him. With an annoyed sound, he pulled out his cell phone, checked the display, and answered. “Right. Yes. Going on right now. You want a turn?”

  Anne frowned.

  “Since we’re in a bidding war for your services, Anne, here’s another contender.” Galen was laughing as he set his cell on the table between them. “You’re on speaker, bro,” he said to the phone, “so watch your language. Go.”

  “What’s going on?” Anne asked.

  “Anne, you’re there. Good.” The voice from the phone was Vance’s, Galen’s partner who still worked for the FBI. “You’d be wasted working for Galen. You have the skills we need in the FBI. Let’s talk about it.”

  She bit her lip to keep from breaking down. After feeling as if she wasn’t valued at all, now she had two job offers at once.

  “The FBI?” she heard her mother say.

  Looking up, she realized her family had ignored politeness and blatantly moved close enough to eavesdrop. She should have known.

  They were totally snoopy. And interfering. And loving.

  She firmed her voice. “Thank you, Vance. Much as I appreciate the work you Feebies do, I’m a little too settled to want to move around. I’m afraid the FBI isn’t for me. But thank you.”

  “Well, I’m disappointed. If you ever change your mind, I want to know.”

  “Excellent decision, Anne,” Galen said loudly enough for Vance to hear.

  “Asshole. You win this one, bro,” Vance answered. “I hope you realize what a prize you got. See you in a bit.”

  “In case Sally didn’t tell you, you’re cooking tonight.” Galen closed the phone over his co-husband’s curse.

  Dan grinned at Galen, then fixed Anne with an intent gaze. “My turn.” He leaned forward. “Don’t you think it’s time to return to law enforcement, where you belong? We have an opening—and I know you’ll find my station more to your liking than the archaic one where you started.”

  She smiled at him. He’d been after her for years to rejoin the force.

  To the police, fugitive recovery was a necessary evil, but not held in high respect. And in all reality, many of the agents were wanna-be cops who’d not scored a law enforcement job. She was the rarity that went the other direction.

  Wasn’t it nice to be wanted? She squeezed Ben’s hand before telling Dan, “I’m afraid that wouldn’t work. I’m looking for something part time.”

  Ben’s exhalation of relief was audible. He wouldn’t stand in her way, but he’d worry his heart out if she worked law enforcement. Just as she would if he chose that career, actually.

  Dan sighed. “Fine.” He glanced at Galen. “Might you contract her out to present skip tracing workshops at my station?”

  Galen’s gaze met hers. “Are you accepting my offer?”

  “Assuming the contracts and all that look good, yes. I’d be delighted to work for you.”

  “Wicked good.” He offered his hand, and they sealed the deal with a hands
hake. “We’re all set.” He turned to Dan. “We’ll map something out to get you access to her expertise.”

  “Anne!”

  The familiar voice had her turning to see her two uncles walking up the steps.

  Way to ruin a fine day.

  She fixed an accusing stare on her father. He’d obviously told his brothers that she was home and having a party.

  When he held his hands out in a “What could I do?” gesture, Anne’s mother glared at him as well.

  From the way the two incoming resembled Anne’s father, Ben figured they were the asshole uncles from the bail bond company. Fighting back irritation and amusement, he squeezed Anne’s thigh and said in a low voice, “Got a feeling your dad’s going to be sleeping on the couch again tonight. Want me to dispose of the trash for you, Mistress?”

  Amusement replaced her frozen expression, and she gave him a light kiss. “I can handle my uncles—and I love you.”

  That was definitely his win. Rising, he took a position where he could guard her six.

  “Now, Elaine, don’t be mad at Stephan,” said the gray-haired uncle. “Anne, we asked him if we could come by and apologize.”

  With a Mistress’s self-possession, Anne folded her hands in her lap. “All right, Uncle Matt. Go ahead.” Head tilted, she waited for her apology.

  She’d put them right on the spot.

  Biting back a laugh, Ben saw Travis and Harrison doing the same.

  Matt gaped for a second and glanced at the other. “Russell, tell her.”

  “Right.” Russell ran his hand over his shiny bald pate. “We want you to come back, niece. We’ll let you take over the team again.”

  “We need you,” Matt said. “No one is as good as you are at skip tracing.”

  “Anyone in the business in Florida knows she’s the best.” Openly amused, Galen butted in. His nosy submissive undoubtedly kept him up on Shadowlands’ gossip—including Anne’s fight with her uncles. “Which is why I hired her the minute she was free.”

  “What… You did what?” Russell’s face reddened. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m a man who appreciates talent and will pay well for the privilege of having Anne in my company,” Galen said smoothly. “Even better, I got here before the Feds made their offer.”