“You look funny. Are you all right?” Sally asked.

Linda jumped. She’d forgotten she wasn’t alone. Beth had returned to the bridesmaids’ group, but Sally remained. “I’m okay. Just saw something that unsettled me a bit.”

“Oh, I know that feeling,” Sally muttered. She glanced around the open area, crowded with friends and family, then nodded to a cluster of Shadowlands members. “I’ve played with a lot of those guys. Usually had fun. But now and then, you get a Dom who’s a real dickhead.”

“Really?” Linda frowned. Raoul had made the place sound so safe. “In the Shadowlands?”

Sally scowled. “Master Z tries, but jerks still get in. Like one guy who just wanted blowjobs. He’d do what a sub wanted, but he wasn’t interested in Domming—just getting off. Or some will do whatever they want if you haven’t been real clear what you’ll allow.” She nodded at a lean man in a black suit. “That one slapped me. I hadn’t put it on my hard limits, but Doms usually start out light in the first scene, you know?”

Linda studied the guy. Long nose, thin lips, sandy hair. He didn’t look cruel, but she’d learned from the slavers that a man’s appearance didn’t always indicate what lay beneath. “What happened?”

“Jessica saw me crying and busted in.” Sally grinned. “She got in trouble for not calling a dungeon monitor, but Z stopped the scene.” She nodded at a younger, dark-haired Dom. “That one wanted his buddy to join our scene. Hey, I like threesomes but not with total strangers.”

Linda shook her head. Maybe she’d have enjoyed threesomes if she were younger. Amusement bubbled up. Younger and less of a stick-in-the-mud. But she was, and she didn’t want anyone but Sam touching her. “I can see how you’d get upset.”

“Yeah. Then there was a really unnerving guy who—”

“Just one guy? Not two?” When a big man stepped up behind Sally and ran his hands down her arms, Linda recognized Vance Buchanan, one of the FBI agents who’d attended the trial. “You must be talking about me, pet. I’m going to tell Galen that he’s so boring you didn’t even mention him.”

Sally spun and glared at the fair-skinned man. “I wasn’t talking about either of you.”

He had a hearty laugh. “You will be, sweetie. You will be.” He smiled at Linda, then strolled over to his partner, a shorter man with an olive complexion. After a brief conversation, Galen turned to regard Sally with eyes as dark as his hair.

When Sally stiffened, the man grinned.

“I’d have to say they do seem to unsettle you.” Linda smothered a laugh.

Although Galen had resumed talking to Vance, Sally continued to stare at them. “Those two. They’ve got tag teaming down to a science. And they make me feel stupid. I never feel stupid. I need a drink.”

As Sally managed the impressive feat of stomping away in stilettos, Linda chuckled, then found an empty table to watch Z lead Jessica out for the first dance. They looked so perfect together that a sigh escaped.

A young man nearby grinned. “What’s it about weddings that makes chicks all gushy?”

Linda huffed a laugh. He had black hair, brown eyes, and was about the same age as Charles. Her son would say exactly the same thing. “We’re suckers for romance.” She held her hand out. “I’m Linda, a friend of Jessica’s.”

“Richard.” As they shook hands, he nodded to Z. “His son.” He nudged the young man beside him. “This is my brother, Eric.”

“Nice to meet you. They make a lovely couple,” Linda said, hoping she wasn’t putting her foot in it. She’d seen Charles’s wariness with Sam. Young men could be very territorial.

“Yeah.” Eric shook his head. “I didn’t think so at first, and Mom was pissed off. But before Jessica, he used to look kinda sad. Cold.” The two boys exchanged a look.

“You couldn’t pay me enough to be a shrink to messed-up kids,” Richard said. “He needed her.”

Eric nodded. “She makes him happy.”

Linda leaned back in her chair, brows pulling together. Jessica made Z happy; he needed her. I want Sam to need me like that.

As the newlyweds circled the grassy space, Z’s expression when he looked down into Jessica’s face showed so much love that Linda’s eyes burned. Could I make Sam that happy?

The need to see him, to talk with him pulled at her, and she rose. Other dancers were flooding onto the grassy dance space. Gabi was scolding Marcus about something—at least until he yanked her up onto her tiptoes and kissed her so thoroughly that she sagged wordlessly against him. He grinned at Raoul, who had Kim on his arm, and Raoul laughed. Kim wore a gorgeous sparkling choker—a symbolic collar. Someday, when she was ready, Raoul would attach a tiny padlock and keep the key.

Z’s sons had fallen into an argument about the upcoming basketball game. Linda nodded to them before making her way toward the lanai. Around her, conversations hummed, broken occasionally by Cullen’s hearty laughter and giggles from the trainees, whom Sally had joined.

When Linda reached the lanai, she saw Sam on the far side of the Shadowlands Masters. Did she really want to squeeze her way through a bunch of men? Would Sam even want to see her when he was with the guys?

As she hesitated, something…a sound, a word, a voice…sent an icy hand of uneasiness up her spine. Her grandmother would have called it someone stepping on her grave. She took a step back, another, then headed the opposite direction. Kari would let her hold the baby.

Before she’d reached the scattered tables, an arm curved around her waist, stopping her. “You look good.”

Wasn’t it odd how Sam’s rough voice could smooth any discomfort away? Except perhaps the uneasiness he gave her just by being himself. “You too. Who knew you could wear a suit so well?”

He snorted. “Rather be in jeans, but this is better than the tux Nolan made me wear at his wedding.”

Oh boy, the thought of him in a tux was lust inducing.

Sam’s arm was firmly around her waist as he strolled with her. The feeling of being part of a couple again was wonderful.

Off to one side, an older couple stood and watched the dancing. When the white-haired man’s eyes met hers, he smiled and raised his voice. “Sam. Introduce us.”

Sam’s grin flashed. Without waiting for her to agree, he guided her forward, his big hand a warm spot at the hollow of her back. “Martha, this is Linda.” He glanced at Linda. “The ugly one is Gerald.”

The wrinkles that softened her face couldn’t hide Martha’s dimples. “It’s nice to finally meet you. We noticed you with Sam the other night.”

The other night?

“At the club,” Gerald offered, obviously noticing her confusion.

Them? “You’re… You do…”

Martha’s laugh sounded like…like Linda’s mother’s. “Yes, we do. We’ve been married for decades, and he’s been my Master for almost that long.”

“Decades?” Kinksters for most of their life?

Gerald gave a wheezing laugh. “We met when I wrote her a ticket for speeding, married soon after. Then we discovered the fun stuff about a decade after that.”

Linda’s mouth dropped open. “How in the world did you hear about BDSM? I mean, you were married. Did he take you to a club or something?”

“Oh my, no. Clubs like the Shadowlands were impossible to find, and heterosexuals weren’t welcome at most.” Wrinkles curved around the old woman’s smile. “A friend gave me The Story of O.” She tsk-tsked. “The hero showed appallingly insensitive behavior at times, but the story was fascinating. When I told Gerald, he made me read him my favorite parts.”

“She blushed with every page.” Gerald kissed his wife’s fingertips. “We experimented. Found a few people to answer questions.”

“We were delighted when Zachary opened his club. It’s pleasant knowing others in the lifestyle.” Martha patted Sam’s arm. “Do bring her to dinner sometime.” Her eyes danced. “I make a mean pot roast.”

“I’d love that.” Jumping right into this relationship, aren’t you, girl? She looked away and took a slow breath. She was old enough to know that loving someone didn’t mean you could live with him, after all. But everything in her wanted to go full speed ahead.

As Martha and Gerald responded to a hail from another older couple, Linda looked up at Sam. “I should be going now. I have some accounting to do.”

“Nope.” He pulled her toward the grassy dance area. “Happens I like waltzing. None of that other crap. And I got a craving to feel your beautiful tits against me. In public.” One eyebrow rose. “Especially with what you’re wearing. Got panties on under that?”

Her face warmed, and she glanced around to make sure no one was close. “Of course I do.”

“Since it’s a vanilla function, I can’t order you not to wear them.” He mercilessly pulled her against him, closer than he should for a waltz. He had a lead as strong as his attitude, and the realization gave her a quiver of appreciation.