“He’s not answering, baby,” Sam warned her. He’d already tried it several times. There was a big part of him that was scared Jack would pick up. If Jack picked up for Abby, then Sam would know where his place was in this little family.
“Damn it, Jack,” Abby growled into the receiver. Her frustration was obvious. “Call me. This note is bullshit, and you know it. You call me and tell me where you are. Sam and I are worried about you.”
She pushed the button to end the call, and Sam relaxed slightly. At least Jack was ignoring them both. Sam reached across the table and stroked Abby’s hand. Out of long habit, he made excuses for the man he’d lived with for years. “He doesn’t like to talk while he’s driving. You know that.”
Abby drummed her free hand along the top of the booth. Sam caught his breath. Even though he was concerned about the state of his household, he couldn’t help but love the way looking at Abigail made him feel. She was a stunning woman with red hair and a killer body. She was forever bemoaning her weight, but Sam loved her every curve. There was a time when she would have been spanked for disparaging herself. The last time she’d called herself fat, Jack had told her not to be so hard on herself.
Sam missed the real Jack.
Christa Wade walked up carrying a platter of food. The brunette was wearing her usual uniform of jeans and a western shirt, though all the other waitresses wore little pink uniforms. Sam smiled a little thinking about the uniform Abby had kept from her short period as a waitress here. It was in the back of the closet with her French maid’s uniform and the hot nurse costume he bought her for Halloween the year before. Abby tried to explain that she’d never have worn that in a hospital, but Sam wasn’t going to let her ruin his fantasy.
“Here you go, guys,” Christa said with a smile. She started chatting about things going on in Willow Fork while Sam thought about his stomach.
Abby had ordered for him, and he fought the urge to close his eyes against what she thought of as a proper lunch. Abby firmly believed the word wholesome and food should go together. Sam had never met a cow he didn’t want to eat. It was a food chain thing. Christa, the café owner and Abby’s close childhood friend, laughed as she set the burger in front of him. “She’s not cruel, Sam.”
He winced as he noted there were no fries. Christa set down a mound of green stuff alongside the burger. Christa asked if there was anything else she could get them. It took everything Sam had not to respond with fries and ketchup and maybe a hot dog on the side. Christa winked at him as she walked away. He pushed the bowl of salad around with the side of his fork.
“It’s called compromise, Samuel,” Abby explained. All she had in front of her was green stuff. With Jack distracted, she’d gone on another diet. She’d been eating like a bird, and it was starting to worry Sam. “You get your burger, just the way you like it, and I get the satisfaction of knowing you ate something today that didn’t used to have a face.”
Sam sighed and gave the lettuce a tentative try. His wife had some strange ideas about eating. He suspected she got it from years of big city living.
“Where do you think he went?”
Sam hated the sadness in Abby’s voice. He silently cursed his partner for putting it there. He and Jack were going to have it out and soon. Sam could handle being ignored, but he wasn’t about to let Abby get hurt. He had no idea what was bugging Jack, but he meant to find out. As to where his partner had gotten off to, he did have an idea. He just wasn’t certain he should tell their wife.
“You know, don’t you?” Abby let her fork drop. Those hazel eyes became little laser beams shooting through him. Abby, for all the submission she showed in the bedroom, could be damn bossy when she wanted to be. “Samuel, you better tell me what you know right now.”
“Fine.” He knew there was no real way to keep her from finding out. He wasn’t able to keep things from Abby. “I might know the password to his voice mail, and I might have listened to his messages.”
Abby’s mouth dropped open. She looked a little shocked. Then a slow, appreciative smile crossed her face. “You little sneak. I love you so much right now.”
He winked at her. The day was looking up. She really looked impressed with his more criminally inclined talents. He might be able to convince her to spend a little time in Christa’s office. He had fond memories of the desk in there. He wouldn’t mention to her that he’d figured out her password, too. He always kept tabs on those he loved. “I checked his voice mail. There was one he’d already listened to, but hadn’t erased. It was a message from Julian.”
“Why do I know that name?” Abby mused as she took a long drink of iced tea.
This was the part he was pretty sure she wouldn’t like. “He’s the man who runs The Club.”
“That’s right,” she said, obviously remembering. Sam knew Jack had told her about the time they had spent in Dallas. Sam was pretty sure she’d gotten a fairly sanitized version of what went on there. “Julian Lodge. He’s Jack’s old mentor. He sent that lovely bouquet to the hospital when Jack was there. What did he need?”
“He didn’t say exactly.” Sam took a bite of the burger, but everything tasted like cardboard to him today. He put it down. “He just told Jack to call him in that voice of his.”
Abby leaned in and glanced around, as though worried someone was listening in. He knew she had a lot of questions about the time he and Jack had spent at the BDSM club in Dallas. While Jack had worked there as a resident Dom, Sam had tended bar. “Which voice is that?” She gasped a little as she answered her own question. “He’s a Dom like Jack, isn’t he?”
Sam nodded and fought off his shiver. Julian Lodge scared the crap out of him sometimes. “He’s the Dom of Doms, baby. You know how Jack gets when he’s really in control? That voice he gets that you just can’t disobey?”
A little smile crossed her face, and Sam knew she was remembering some really good times. Jack would growl in that voice of his, and Abigail would be on her knees at his feet, her clothes lost in a flurry of obedience. Sam loved watching her submit. “I know the voice, Sam.” Her tone was husky with remembered pleasure.
“Well, multiply it by a hundred and know that Julian Lodge uses it twenty-four seven.”
She flushed a little at the thought. “Wow, and he taught Jack?”
“Yep, though Jack doesn’t take it as far as Julian does,” Sam explained. Of course, Jack hadn’t been taking it anywhere lately. “Jack likes a sub when it comes to sex.”
Abby’s smile was wry. “Does he? I couldn’t tell. I can’t see his face when my ass is in the air waiting for him to spank it.”
“Sassy,” he tossed at her and continued. “Jack doesn’t try to make every decision for you. He’s very protective, and he can be overbearing at times.”
“Not lately.” Abby’s mouth turned down in a glum little frown.
Sam ignored her. It wouldn’t help to talk about it. “But for the most part, he’s indulgent. That is not the way it is with Julian. Julian’s lovers fall into the slave category.”
Rather than shirking away in disgust, his dirty little Abby just leaned in closer. She was an adventuresome little thing. “Really? So he keeps women around, and he makes all the decisions for them? He chooses their clothes? They have to ask for permission to speak?”
Sam nodded. He left out the part about the collars and absolute obedience Julian Lodge required from his slaves. “Yes, that’s about it. Though in all the time I’ve known him, he’s only kept a couple of subs with him at his home, and no one for more than a year. Still, he’s gone through a string of casual subs. How exactly do you know so much about slaves?”
“Well, Sam, you know I like to read.”