Next life, she wanted to be a cat.

“That’s better,” he said eventually. After giving her a light kiss, he set her on her feet. “Although I’d enjoy holding you longer, you need some food.”

“Pancakes or eggs?” Vance asked. He rose and pulled a skillet from the cupboard.

Sally stood in place, confused. Frank had always made her cook. “Um. I can cook.”

“You will, sooner or later. Everyone helps in this house. So…?” Vance raised his eyebrows.

A sugar rush would be wonderful. She’d worry about the calories later. “Pancakes.”

“Done.”

Something brushed against her leg, and she squeaked and jumped a foot, almost losing her balance. Trying to ignore the throbbing of her ankle, she looked down.

An annoyed steel-gray cat stared at her with yellow-green eyes.

Galen laughed, and the deep, resonant sound had her mouth curving up. Had she ever heard him really laugh before? “Glock rules the house. Are you bothered by cats?”

“No.” Sally bent and held a finger out. The cat craned his neck in a long sniff, then curved to bump his head against Sally’s hand. His fur was short and thick, completely gray except for a slightly paler stripe from the top of his head to his nose. “Oh, you’re so soft,” Sally crooned. “So sweet.”

“He was here when we arrived. Half-starved,” Vance said. “Using a broken window in the cabana for his personal entry.”

“He’s sure not half-starved now.” Hurting in too many places to remain standing, Sally eased herself onto the tile floor with only one tiny grunt of pain. Then, she happily gathered the solid, purring body into her arms. Oh yes.

When Sally looked up, she realized she’d leaned her shoulder against Galen’s legs.

Elbow on the island top, he’d rested his chin on his palm, a finger stroking his lips as he studied her. His black eyes had softened. “Like cats, do you?”

As Glock rubbed his head against her cheek, Sally pulled in a shaky breath. “I miss having pets.” They loved her, never let her down, never turned their—

“What are you thinking?” His question jerked her out of her memories.

“I—nothing.”

“Try again, pet.” Galen’s voice was even, firm. The command of a Dom.

She’d already screwed up—the very first time she’d been asked a question. She stiffened, waiting for the sarcasm, the coldness.

Vance continued cooking.

Galen hadn’t moved. He didn’t appear angry or even upset. He was just…waiting for her to get her act together.

The purring cat in her arms was like a security blanket. Take my back, Glock. I’m going in. “In Iowa, I’d sneak out to the barn, take treats to the cats and dogs, and just…hang out…with them.” Blackie, the lab, would try to crawl in her lap. The barn cats would weave circles around her feet.

Galen frowned. “Why did you have to sneak out?”

“My father didn’t believe in house pets. Said it would ruin them for hunting so they had to stay in the barn.”

Vance turned to look at her; then the men exchanged glances. The pity in their eyes was unbearable.

Sally stiffened her spine and lifted her chin. “It was no big deal. I just like animals.”

“Me too.” Vance pulled eggs, milk, and bacon from the fridge. “We always had a couple of dogs and a cat or two. My sisters would dress them in doll clothes. Poor beasties found it a relief when the girls got too old to play with dolls.”

“Good thing you were older. But, on second thought, you’d look quite endearing in a baby bonnet.” Galen ignored Vance’s scowl and grinned at Sally. “His sisters are like a pack of poodles.”

Vance snorted. “All yap and no bite.” And his love for them came through clearly. He put the pancake ingredients on the island and handed Galen a bowl and spoon. “You mix, pard. You got brothers or sisters, Sally?”

She pulled the cat closer. “A brother. Half brother.” She added the qualification as Tate always had. He hadn’t hated her. Much. He was the one who’d told her that her mother wasn’t supposed to have her. That Father hadn’t wanted more children—especially not a girl. “We’re not close. He’s not coming to my graduation ceremony.” But her father was.

“There’s a good frown.” Galen leaned forward and traced his finger over her downturned lips.

She looked up into intent eyes that seared like molten lava. Her worry about her father’s presence at the graduation ceremony burned away under the heat. Galen might be very controlled, but now she knew he wanted her. God, she wanted him too, wanted his dark voice whispering to her as he took her.

His lips curved slightly; then he sat back. “You’re not looking forward to the ceremony—or is it your family?”

Darn perceptive Dom. She shrugged. “No big deal.”

“Sally.” This time the reprimand came from Vance.

“I-I don’t l-like this,” she exploded. “I feel naked.”

Vance’s grin was like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. “That’s exactly how you should feel. Get used to it, little girl.”

Despite his grin, the merciless resolve in his voice made her shiver.

“Now, explain.” He turned back to putting bacon into the skillet.

Pushy jerks. Naked, huh? Guess she’d better start emotionally stripping.

With a sigh, she set the cat on the floor. When she struggled to rise, Galen stood, lifted her to her feet, and released her. “Thanks,” she muttered as he took his seat again.

“Not a problem, pet.”

At the sink, she washed her hands, taking her time and keeping her gaze away from them. Like how at the club, she’d turn her back to strip. Less disconcerting. Less intimate. She raised her voice slightly over the running water. “The ceremony is nothing unusual. But a classmate’s parents are throwing a reception afterward for us and our friends and families. I don’t know if my father will go.”

Everyone else would have hoards of family and friends.

“And you feel…” Galen prompted softly.

She glared at her soapy hands to keep from smarting off. She’d wanted them to push her, so why did she resent it so much? You’re being illogical, girl. Man up. The words still came slowly as if drawn up from a deep well. “I feel like the scrawny, mange-ridden dog left at the pound that never gets adopted.”

“Poor puppy.” Vance wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his solid chest. “We’ll be at your graduation and your party too.”

“Really?”

“Ayuh.” Galen agreed.

All her unspoken emotions dammed her throat. Finally she managed to speak. Her words came out husky. “Thank you.”

* * *

Vance watched as Sally came to a sudden halt just inside her studio apartment. Poor girl.

“Christ in a cave,” she whispered.

He put his arm around her and surveyed the mess. She’d undoubtedly been too upset last night to comprehend all the damage done to her apartment. Broken glass glittered from everywhere, including on the bed and embedded in the carpet. Spilled liquids and bloodstained walls and carpet. Broken furniture. “It’s a mess, sweetheart.”

“Yeah.” She leaned against him, pleasing him.

What was there about a woman’s need that made a man stand straighter? “We can pick up the worst of it, but the wall stains and carpets need professional help.”

“But—”

He gave her a level look. “Galen and I will handle that part. And if it bothers us, we’ll visit Borup and make him foot the bill.” Galen said the guy had no priors so he wouldn’t do much time. More like probation, alcohol and anger classes.

Yeah, a quick visit after the asshole was released would be fun.

“Vance. I can handle this.”

“I know you can.” He ran his fingers through her silky mink-colored hair. Fuck, he loved long hair. Instant hard-on. Reluctantly he released her and watched her limp into the apartment. “I’m going to help anyway.”

“Right.” Awkwardly, she turned in a circle to study the room, her forehead endearingly wrinkled.

He waited, figuring she needed more time to adjust to the trauma. Considering how the senseless destruction outraged him, he could only imagine what she must feel. Despite the small size of the studio and the extent of the damage, he could see she’d made herself a cozy, colorful place. The apartment had the typical off-white walls and beige carpet, but her couch was dark red, the chairs black. Floral pillows blended the colors together, as did the scattered rugs on top of the carpet and the black-framed pictures.

Bold yet warm, much like Sally.

“Okay,” she said finally. “I saw a good-sized box at the end of the hall. I can use that to toss the broken stuff and glass into, if you’ll put the furniture back into place. If I can just get the worst of it up, I can vacuum, and then as long as I remember not to jump out of bed without putting on shoes, I can manage.”

While he’d thought she was mourning, she’d been formulating a plan of action. How did he keep underestimating her?

But did she seriously think they’d let her try to live here? “Sally, you do realize that after we’ve cleaned up, you’re going to pack some clothes and come home with me.”

Her jaw dropped. “I’m what? No way.”

Good God, she’d thought he brought her back to drop her off like that fucking puppy at the pound? “Sweetheart, if we’re going to work with you, we need you available, don’t you think?” Leaning a shoulder against the wall, he watched her face.

It clouded over like a Tampa thunderstorm. “I can’t live with you.”

She’d make a lousy poker player, but once they finally got her in bed, those unrestrained expressions would be a delight. “Why not? Do we make you that nervous?”

Her back straightened. “Of course not.”

Liar. “Try again.”

“I…” She bit her lip. “Kind of. Besides, putting me up would be an imposition.”

She really was cute. And more fucking vulnerable than they’d realized. He and Galen would have to walk carefully around her. Oddly enough, the thought didn’t bother him at all. He pulled her back into his arms and rested his chin on top of her head. “Do either Galen or I look like the type of Doms who’d do something we didn’t enjoy?”

“Actually, yes.” She rubbed her forehead on his chest. “I think you really do take on a lot of stuff you don’t like.”

Mmm. Very perceptive. “But not with women.”

In fact, they’d been careful to pick ones who wanted a fun night or scene and nothing more. He molded her against him, enjoying the soft curves. “You’re going to be a bit of work, sweetness, but we’ll demand things from you to compensate.”

“Sex.”

He chuckled at her matter-of-fact tone, then without warning, fisted her long hair and tugged her head back so he could watch her face. When he cupped her breast, her nipple peaked immediately. Pink surged into her face, and her pupils dilated. As he slowly caressed her breast, feeling the heat against his palm, he said quietly, “If we didn’t think sex would be a treat for all of us, we wouldn’t have played with you to begin with. Were we wrong?”

He held her in place although she looked down and tried to pull away. No, she wasn’t going to hide her face. “Eyes on me.” He waited until her gaze met his. “Answer my question.”

“No… I mean, you’re not wrong.”

“Do you like my hands on you?”

The pink increased to an alluring red. “Yes,” she muttered.

Damn, he liked throwing her off balance. “Good answer. As to compensation for room and board, I think Galen wanted you to recover a hard drive that a virus trashed.”

She blinked, looking so startled he laughed. “Oh. Well, sure. I can do that,” she said.

“Good. Let’s get your place cleaned up, and you can fill a suitcase.” He waited until she made it to the middle of the room before adding, “I will—of course—help you decide what clothes you should pack.”

Definitely not a poker player.

* * *

That evening, Sally followed Galen into a room she hadn’t seen before. She stopped and stared. Wow. The entire house was a rehab patchwork. Some rooms were a broken-down mess; some were spectacular. This office was fantastic—very masculine with hardwood floors and light wood wainscoting. Leather chairs. A dark wood filing cabinet and bookcase shared one wall. At least, the oriental carpet and arched windows softened the testosterone. A bit.

Two antique desks held computers—and as far as she was concerned, that juxtaposition of old and new never looked quite right.