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Marius sat back. He'd petted her, and she was acting friendly toward him, despite the churning in his gut. He hadn't been trapped in his memories, and he hadn't frightened her. He felt drained as if he'd run five miles at the height of a Florida summer. Sensing it, Dale took them in another direction.
"That's good progress. I'm going to let all the dogs out for their pre-dinner run around the yard. We'll take a break and talk some more. I have some fresh iced tea and sandwiches in my office. Athena keeps me well-fed. We can come back out later."
"How about it, Marius?" Regina asked. "You want to do that? Or do you want to take a little walk first on your own, check out the cars Dale has in the lot?"
She looked toward Dale to see if that met with his approval. The SEAL studied Marius. Marius wouldn't have been surprised if he'd said hell, no, but Dale nodded. "You don't have to interact with the dogs any more than you want. Some will try to get you to pet them, but if that bugs you, just say 'Free.' That's their command to go about their business."
"It's okay. They don't usually approach me on their own. Uh, yeah, I wouldn't mind wandering around." He needed some air and space. "That okay with you, Mistress?"
"Perfectly fine." Her eyes warmed in approval at his checking. "If you see any interesting car parts, Dale's still scavenging for the Frankenstein car float his SEAL buddies are putting together for the Mardi Gras parade."
"I find new stuff every day," Dale added. "I could be out here a hundred years and not uncover every treasure Eddie collected when he ran this place. I keep thinking I'm going to stumble on the Holy Grail. Or a body."
Despite the casual dialogue, Marius wasn't oblivious to the unspoken conversation going on between Regina and Dale, all handled with body language and eye contact. Dale rose, collecting his crutches, and headed for the kennels. Tempest followed at his heels and Shotgun emerged from the cars with a joyous woof and the ball, cavorting in circles around them.
Regina touched Marius's hand. "You're doing well," she said. "Don't push yourself too hard. Do as much as you can handle. You don't have to adopt anyone today."
"Like he'd let me. If I freak out at petting one, I'm not ready." He tried not to let despair close in at the thought. Two weeks ago, the decision to adopt a pet hadn't even been on his radar. Now it loomed in his mind as a pass-fail test of the kind of person he was. He needed to get some fucking perspective.
"Yeah, you might not be ready." She eased the gut shot impact of the short statement by tapping his jaw with a polished nail. "But that doesn't mean anything bad. You're here, you're trying to deal with something awful from your past that's been choking you. Maybe volunteering for a place like this at home, and then graduating from there to pet sitting for a friend, or volunteering your services as a dogwalker, is the way you need to go until you're ready for the next step."
"What if I hurt one?" The moment he blurted out the words, the tide rose and threatened to engulf him. He was up and off the bench, moving away from her, moving toward the car. "I can't. I need to leave.
"That's going to be tough," she said. "This place is out in the boondocks. Not a lot of hitchhiking options."
He turned and saw her jangle the car keys on her fingers. When he set his jaw, her gaze softened. "You need to breathe, tough guy. Just wander around the lot, or drink tea and have sandwiches with us. Don't think about the past. Think about the now, and the future. You're not him."
When he shifted uncomfortably, neither confirming nor denying, her expression hardened. "You go down that road, I will tie you down and beat you within an inch of your life. You were already walking stiff when you got off the plane. Want to be hobbling?"
As his gaze narrowed, she dipped her head in a short, satisfied nod. "Keep it in mind. Your number one prerogative today and every day is not to piss off your Mistress." Her tone gentled. "And be true to yourself."
"I don't know who that is."
"Yes, you do." Rising, she closed the distance between them to grip his arms. "I see it every day I spend around you. If you can't have faith in yourself yet, have faith in what I see."
She released him, albeit with a reluctance that bolstered him. He wished she would stay with him, that they could leave and spend the rest of the day...doing nothing.
"Can we go to the waterfront later today and just...walk?"
She cocked her head. "Sure. If you buy me dinner at the French Market Restaurant. They have a great goat cheese and fried green tomato po' boy."
"Okay." He looked down at the ground, his gaze passing over the tempting terrain of her breasts along the way. He wanted to put his head there. Hold her, be held. But he was already feeling like a complete pussy. Couldn't barely pet a fucking friendly dog. "I'm going to go walk around. Look at the cars."
"All right."
Regina watched him go. She was sure he knew she wasn't fooled by the forced casualness of his tone, his pretense that yeah, hey, it was all good, but she knew when a sub needed some space. Hell, anyone who'd just done what he'd done would. He was unfortunately and obviously beating himself up about it, but everything she'd just seen was classic traumatic stress.
He was walking stiff, her sweet boy, but it wasn't because of those stripes she'd left on his ass. What he'd done in less than fifteen minutes had likely left him more drained and muscle sore than a three-hour session or even a fight in the ring. He still had a damp spot on the back of his shirt where he'd sweated through it in less than a blink. When she'd laid his palm on her chest to modify his breathing, his hand had been shaking, his eyes latched on hers like he couldn't look away without the world coming to an end. Then things had calmed and she'd seen the wonder in his face as Tempest had responded to him.
She'd had to blink back tears, fast, swallow over a thick throat. No good would have come from him seeing how hard it had been for her to watch his struggle. But Dale had apparently noticed. As he came back to the table and sat with her, he pulled a small flask out of one of the leg pockets of his cargo pants and proffered it. "You could use a little bracer."
Giving him a grateful look, she took a swallow of the strong whiskey. He took his own swallow, then tucked it back in his pocket. Following her gaze, he watched Marius ambling around the cars, his hands tucked in his jeans' back pockets, his head down. A couple of the dogs trailed him, but Marius had been right. None of the fifteen or so dogs Dale had released approached him, whereas several made a bee line to Regina, automatically gravitating toward the attention she willingly offered. It broke her heart a little, to be surrounded by the wagging tails and playful creatures, while the isolated man wandered in her peripheral vision.
"Do you know what you're doing?"
She lifted her head at Dale's question. His blue-green eyes
were serious, concerned. "As much as any male Dom who takes on a troubled female sub does," she said mildly.
