Maid service had already cleaned their room. When Mac emerged from the bathroom, Clarisse had Bart’s crate sitting on her bed, the dog inside, and Food Network on the TV.

“What’s that for?” he asked, pointing at the TV.

“He likes it. It’s his favorite channel. He thinks Bobby Flay’s the shit. He won’t bark while we’re gone.”

Mac shook his head in disbelief but got them moving out the door.

* * *

Mac had put on a suit, and damned if he didn’t look gooood in the obviously expensive and custom-tailored outfit. He could easily pass for an attorney. Sully hadn’t spared any expenses there. Forget a tall drink of water, he looked like a lush tropical oasis in the middle of a bone-dry desert. He drove them in the rental car, following her directions, to the police station in Maxwell.

She started to get out when he caught her wrist and waited for her to meet his gaze. “No, you wait for me to open the door.”

Clarisse felt another of those molten waves sweep through her.

She nodded, unable to speak.

Another playful smile from Mac. “Good girl.” Then he kissed her hand before releasing it and getting out. He walked around, opened her door, and held out his hand. When she took it and stepped out, he leaned in to speak low in her ear. “You let me take the lead. If they ask to speak to you alone, you don’t let them kick me out. Don’t lie and tell them I’m your attorney, just stick to your guns. Okay?”

Speech escaped her. She nodded.

“Good girl,” he repeated. He locked the car. With his hand gently resting on the small of her back, he walked her into the lobby.

Momentary nausea swept through her. Fear. Nerves. She wanted to bolt outside and beg Mac to take her out of there before Bryan spotted them. He apparently sensed it and pressed his hand against her back, just enough to remind her he wasn’t letting her go.

When Mac explained to the desk clerk why they were there, she directed them to take a seat in the waiting area while she called the detective. Ten minutes later, they were seated in Detective Calvert’s office. Clarisse immediately sensed from the look on the man’s face that there was a problem.

Apparently, so did Mac. “What’s going on?” Mac asked, getting the bullshit out of the way.

Calvert shook his head. “Miss Moore, we’re having trouble locating your case file—”

“Goddammit! I knew it!” Clarisse screamed. She started to stand, but Mac snagged her wrist and gently pulled her back into her chair.

“Stay here,” Mac calmly ordered, then looked at the detective without releasing her wrist. “What do you mean, trouble locating the file? Doesn’t all of that end up in the computer?”

The detective got on the phone and made several calls, the last of which sounded very angry. He slammed the phone down and looked at them apologetically. “We’re working on it. IT is going through the server backups to retrieve the files, but it’s going to take them until at least tomorrow—”

“Tomorrow?” Clarisse practically shrieked. She wanted out of there ten minutes ago. She tried to pull her hand from Mac’s firm grip, but he wouldn’t budge. “We need to leave! I don’t want to be around and have that asshole get a second shot at me!”

“Clarisse.” Mac’s quietly stern, firm voice immediately focused her attention. It was identical to the tone Sully used with her at the club. He caught her eye. “Wait.” Without releasing her hand, he pulled his cell out with his other and dialed Sully. After a quick moment of updating him, he nodded. “Right. We’ll see you.”

Clarisse trembled in Mac’s grip as he put his phone away. “He’s flying out and will be here in the morning.”

“Sully?”

He smiled. “Well, sure as hell not the Tooth Fairy, sugar.” He looked at the detective. “What time do you want us here in the morning?”

* * *

Ten minutes later, after more apologies from the detective, they were back in the car and speeding away from the station. She slumped in the passenger seat and sobbed while Mac constantly checked the rear view mirror. He spent thirty minutes bobbing and weaving around eastern Columbus before finally heading to their motel. Now well past noon, he was starving, but she’d been too nervous to eat breakfast. Once he’d safely locked them in their room, he ordered subs from a nearby shop that delivered.

Clarisse curled into a tight ball on the bed, a glassy stare on her face and Bart tucked against her chest. “He’s going to kill me,” she whispered. “He’s going to find me and kill me. That money meant more to him than anything. He’s going to kill me. He’s fucking crazy.”

Mac stroked her leg. “He’s not going to kill you. We will not let that happen. You can’t let him have a pass on this. We have to follow through with filing charges.”

She nearly screamed at the knock on the door a few minutes later.

“It’s okay. It’s the food.” He checked to make sure it was, in fact, the food before he opened the door and paid for their lunch.

Sully called from Tampa International with his flight info before boarding. His plane would arrive in Columbus at two a.m. local time.

Clarisse barely spoke, only picked at her lunch.

He was going to offer to walk Bart for her, knowing the little fuzzwad had to be ready to go, when he noticed a small metal pan, like a brownie pan, in his crate. Filled with cedar chips. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing.

“His litter pan.”

“His what?”

Finally, a ghost of a smile. She stroked the little dog. “He’s litter trained. Like a cat. I had to do it because Bryan told me when I got him that if he had accidents in the house he would kill him.” She protectively cuddled him closer. “I thought if you could do it for cats, why not dogs? I dump the cedar chips in the flowerbed after I scoop the poop out and flush that.”

“Son of a bitch. Now I’ve seen everything.” He’d changed into shorts and stretched out on his bed. Bart squirmed out of her arms and ran to the edge of the bed. Too little to jump down, he stood there and barked.

Mac rolled over, reached out, grabbed the dog, and brought him over to his bed. There, Bart curled up on Mac’s chest and stared at Clarisse.

She laughed, then a frown crossed her face.

“Why the storm clouds, sweetie?”

“Is Sully really going to be okay with me having him?”

Mac smiled. “Yeah. One way or another, I’ll make sure of it.”

Even if I have to volunteer to take the strokes for him myself.

They watched TV, talked, and she napped. He ordered Chinese food for dinner, and then she fell asleep again. He set the alarm to wake him at midnight. Clarisse slept right through it. He hated to wake her, but at twelve-thirty, he gently shook her shoulder. “Hey, sweetie, we need to go to the airport and get Master.”

She tried to roll over. “Can’t I stay here?” she mumbled.

He sat next to her. “Honey, no way in hell will I leave you alone here. Even if I did, Master would beat the crap out of me in public at the fucking airport for doing that.”

Clarisse studied him. “Is it hard to live like that? Knowing he can punish you?”

He smiled and shrugged. “It’s not much different than when I was in the Army, only it’s a lot more fun, I get laid pretty frequently, and I get to live with the man I love who loves me. He only punishes me when I break the rules.”

“But he beats you!”

“I know it’s hard for you to wrap your head around, but I get off on that. If he let me slide on things it would piss me off. Obedience is only one facet of our relationship. You know that. You’ve seen it.” He stroked her chin. “We’ll talk more about this later.”

He started to stand but she caught his arm. “If I…if I decide I do want to do this with you guys…does it always have to be like this?”

Mac kept an eye on the clock. They had a little time for this. He sat again. “Sweetie, you’ve seen how we are. It’s give-and-take, not one-sided. He knows what my needs are, and what we do fulfills them. When we go out, we’re vanilla. Almost.” He smiled. “Why do you think he won’t fuck you, baby? He doesn’t want to give you his heart unless he knows he’s got your trust, love, and a commitment from you. Not after what he went though with Cybil.”

“His heart?”

“Didn’t you understand what we were telling you? We love you.

Both of us. We’re in love with you. What did you think he meant?”

“He’s in love with me, too?”

He slowly nodded. “You didn’t realize that?”

Clarisse’s thoughts reeled. She didn’t realize it, too caught up in the fact that Mac had confessed his feelings to her. She’d totally missed the true meaning in Sully’s quiet confession.

“I thought me meant he…loved me. Not that he was in love with me.”

He smiled. “He loves you as much as I do.” He stood. “Wear sweats, honey. No need to dress up.” She realized he wore jeans and a button-up shirt, the ID bracelet on his wrist. He never took that off.

“Can I bring Bart?”

“Might as well.”

Twenty minutes later, they headed for the airport. Mac made her wait for him to open her door again, and she cuddled Bart under her jacket as they walked into the terminal. Protectively, possessively, Mac kept his hand on the small of her back as he had at the police station. He consulted the arrival boards and found the gate number and where they could wait outside the security checkpoint. Ten minutes after Sully’s flight arrived, they spotted him. He used his cane and had his laptop case slung over his shoulder.

Clarisse’s heart thumped. He loved her. Mac’s clarification had changed her world.

Still, that niggling doubt remained. Trust him? He hadn’t asked her for her love, only her trust. In some ways, that was an even bigger request.

Sully spotted them. They stepped off to the side as Mac greeted him. Sully cupped his hand around the back of Mac’s neck as Mac’s forehead rested against Sully’s shoulder. Sully whispered something and Mac nodded. Then Sully pulled him in for a tight hug.

Her heart thumped even harder. Something about the gesture, both tender and authoritative at the same time, drew her in. She wished he’d greeted her like that.

When the men stepped apart, Sully handed his laptop to Mac and turned to her. He looked tired, but he smiled. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Her throat felt dry. She nodded. She had Bart cuddled under her jacket, and he picked that moment to poke his head out.

Sully’s eyes widened. “What is that?”

Mac laughed. “That’s Bart.”

“That’s your dog?”

She nodded again, very nervous.

“Oh,” Mac added, “guess what? He’s litter trained.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Damnedest thing you ever saw.”

Sully stared at the little dog. Clarisse felt his tail wagging under her jacket. She unzipped it a little so she could pull him out and show him to Sully. She couldn’t be lucky twice, could she?

“Be careful. He usually bites men,” she warned.

Sully arched an eyebrow at her. “Usually?”

Mac laughed again. “I’m apparently the first guy he’s never bitten. He loves me.”

Sully held up his hand, palm open, in front of the dog. Bart sniffed him as his tail increased in speed. When Sully reached for him, he willingly went and licked his chin.

Clarisse shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”

Sully lifted the dog to eye level. “You like to protect your lady, don’t you, buddy? You only trust her with guys she trusts.”

He said it playfully. Bart’s stubby little tail wiggled so fast it was barely visible. But his words slammed into her. Trust. Honestly?

Since she’d gotten Bart, she didn’t trust any men.

Except these two.

Yes, she did trust Sully.

Sully scratched the dog on the head and returned him to her. As they walked toward baggage claim, Sully kept his arm around Clarisse’s waist while Mac filled Sully in. She couldn’t resist leaning into his warm embrace while they walked.

When Mac finished, Sully said, “Well, if they aren’t the most sophisticated of agencies, it’s possibly a glitch, though I doubt it.

Case files can get mislaid, accidentally stuck inside other files. To also lose the digital version at the same time is bullshit. Especially considering Bryan’s job duties.” He turned to Clarisse. “We’ll get this taken care of. Didn’t you say Raquel took pictures of you, too?”

“Yeah. I stored them online.”