Safe Harbor by Tymber Dalton

Master.”
    Amused, she snorted a little. Sully read her posture, sensed her slight relaxation.
    That’s when he gave her a broad, beaming smile and stepped back, out of her personal space. She didn’t drop her head, kept her eyes on him.
    “I don’t know, Clarisse. You think I should make him wear a dress?”
    A little more of an amused curl to her lips. “I think he’s more a tight jeans kind of guy. He does have a nice ass.” She blushed a little but didn’t look away.
    “Score one for the girl,” Sully teased as he picked up his mug.
    Mac had refilled it. He turned to Mac and lifted an eyebrow at him.
    “Lucky for you, I’m feeling charitable. Go find the tightest pair of jeans you can squeeze yourself into. No underwear.”
    Mac looked startled, but went to do it while Clarisse actually laughed.

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    He’d guessed right—she had a beautiful, clear laugh. On that sweet note, he returned to his study but left the door cracked open.

     
     
    * * * *
     
     
    Over the next hour or so, he heard them talking, the occasional laugh from Mac or Clarisse, the front door opening and shutting as they went outside, probably so Mac could show her around. Five minutes later, movement in the yard caught his eye through the window. Sure enough, Mac and Clarisse stood at the seawall, looking out at the bayou. Mac pointed to something. Clarisse nodded.
    Sully smiled. She’d pulled her hair back into a low ponytail.
    Good girl.
    He wouldn’t force her, wouldn’t rush her. But maybe that tiny breach in her defenses would be enough to start her on the road to trusting him.
    She said something, because Mac laughed. Then a moment later, he frowned and pulled her to him.
    Sully forced himself to stay seated and watch, fought the urge to race downstairs.
    To help Mac console her.
    Her entire body shook with the force of her sobs as Mac guided her down to the grass, where he held her cradled tenderly against him.
    Sully felt pain in his palms and realized he’d clenched his fists, his nails digging into his flesh.
    She’d been deeply wounded. Her physical injuries were already healing but how long to heal her psyche? To restore her trust and get her to a point where she could be a fully functioning human again?
    Would she ever stop flinching when he moved toward her? Would there ever come a point when a stern voice wouldn’t set into motion an ingrained series of protective responses?
    Tad’s implied suggestion came back to him. It was far too soon to entertain any ideas along that line. Unfortunately, with the idea

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    planted in his mind, it had quickly taken root and sprouted no matter how impractical it sounded.
    Tad knew they weren’t gay, had teased the men many times about their almost identical head pivots as they followed a pretty woman’s progress with their eyes.
    Not to mention the fact that after what Clarisse had been through, the last kind of relationship she’d probably ever want would be the only kind they could give her.
    He watched as Mac pressed a kiss to the top of her head before she sat up and wiped at her face. He said something, prompting a nod from her.
    Did he miss women? Yes. Not Cybil, not after what she’d put him through. There were nights he’d lie in bed with Mac sleeping soundly next to him and wish for the soft curves of a feminine body.
    Not that he’d ever admit that to Mac.
    Another thing he’d never admit—he was scared to ask Mac if he missed women too, not sure if he’d like the answer.
     
     
    * * * *
     
     
    Sully closed his office door before they returned. He heard them talking in the living room. Then her bedroom door opened and shut, the sound of the shower coming on in her bathroom.
    A soft knock sounded at his door.
    “Come.”
    Mac walked in. “We’re going to see Tad after she gets her shower.”
    Sully reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He handed Mac a credit card. “Use this if you need it.”
    Mac took it. “Thank you, Master.” He didn’t