by Shayla Black
mine was pretty awful, so I have no idea.”
“When did you discover the truth?”
“Three weeks before the election. That was when a staffer came to me and showed me the proof that my pregnant wife was having an affair.” He rubbed at the back of his neck again. “With my father.”
That day was still vivid in his memory. He could see the photos of his wife and father making love in the swimming pool where he’d played as a kid, where his mother had taught him how to swim. They’d had barbecues and family gatherings in that backyard, filling the expansive space with their big personalities. All of those memories had been burned away by a handful of photographs featuring his dear old dad happily plowing his beautiful bride.
“Oh my god, Kellan. That’s terrible.” Belle clapped her hand over her mouth and looked at him with an expression somewhere between horror and pity.
Once, he would have pushed her away, but now he realized this was as close as he could allow himself to be with her emotionally. Sex… Now that was different. He could have sex with her all fucking day and night, but taking her comfort pushed at his very firm barriers. Allowing her soft empathy meant she could sneak behind his walls, and he couldn’t allow anyone to do that again. He couldn’t give her what she deserved, and letting her indulge in the fantasy that he was a whole man would just hurt them both.
Still, he gave himself one moment—just this one—to sink against her and feel her gentle caring.
“My pride was shredded, but worse than that, my campaign was over and not for the reason you’d think.”
“Did someone leak the pictures?”
He huffed out a bitter laugh. “No, my father bought them. Then he sat me down and told me I was a disappointment, but he’d long known I would be. I hadn’t been man enough for my dad and I’d proved it by not being able to take care of my wife.”
Hell, son, I even had to get her pregnant for you. Maybe this kid will have some guts.
“Oh, Kellan, he was wrong.” Belle put an arm around him and looked into his eyes as if willing him to believe her. “You have to know that.”
Fuck if he didn’t want to wrap himself up in her warmth. But all he could allow himself was to let her touch him—and steel himself so that her comfort didn’t sway him. She really didn’t know the whole truth, and Kellan decided to skip over the part where he’d nearly killed his father that night. After his dad had goaded him and told him how pathetic he was, he’d finally seen red and showed the old man that he could, in fact, fight.
“That Monday, Lila filed for divorce. The ink had barely dried on the decree when she married my dad. She runs Kent and Associates to this day. Dad is still a judge, and they have a son they’ll ship off to boarding school about the time he turns four. He’ll be given the best of everything with the singular exception of any kind of affection because Lila isn’t my mom.”
When he looked back on his childhood, his mother had been his only nurturer. He’d been shipped off to the same boarding schools his half-brother would one day attend because Kents always had prestigious educations, but at least he’d been able to come home for summers and make some awesome memories with his mom.
“I feel for the kid,” Belle said, an ache in her voice. “And you, Kellan. You were the wronged party. Why did you have to leave everything behind? You could have exposed the truth and ruined them.”
He shook his head. “You don’t understand how politics work. My father had been playing this game a long, long time. He was appointed to the bench by the president. He has power and influence. Once Lila filed for divorce and Dad put an engagement ring on her finger, it made me look weak. The party forced me to drop out of the race in favor of someone who could win. Everyone loves a winner, you know.” That humiliation still stung just under his skin. “I lost everything, including my ability to make a living. No one wanted to hire me, and if I had started my own firm, I would have been utterly without clients. I was done in DC.”
“So you came to Chicago?”
“Yeah.” He let out a long sigh. “I didn’t know where else to go. Eric and Tate had been my friends in law school until Lila decided they weren’t the type of friends ‘we’ needed. It wasn’t like I dumped them. Lila just made it harder and harder to see them. When we graduated, we drifted apart. Eventually, I let their calls go to voice mail because I wasn’t sure what to say. They moved to Chicago, and I settled into DC…and life went on.”
Belle eased her arms from around his body, but remained close. “You know, I’ve always thought you three were an odd mix, but somehow you work.”
“You have no idea. At first I thought they were freaks. Then I wished I had someone like them in my life. They’re weird halves of a whole, but sometimes I think I’m just hollow on the inside, so it would be better to be like them. They know who they are and what they want. They make no apologies for it.”
Kell could hear the envy in his own voice.
“Eric called me after he heard what happened,” Kell went on. “All those years I ignored them, but when I needed a friend, he reached out to me.”
And changed his life forever. Kell might have helped their firm fiscally, but they had given him something he’d never had before: true, stable friendships.
“I can’t repay their loyalty by ruining the one bond they desperately want. Belle, please don’t blame them for my inability to be the man you need.”
Tears shone in her eyes. “You don’t think you’ll ever trust another woman, do you?”
“I know my limitations. You’ve seen them. I’m damaged beyond any kind of repair. But I fully admit that I want you. That’s probably not fair to you, but it’s honest. I want to be your lover and your Dom, but you should understand my hard limits now. Do you see why a D/s relationship is all I can handle?”
“I understand why you believe that,” she said carefully. “But I wasn’t asking you for a ring.”
“You deserve one. Hell, you deserve three. I just can’t do it. If you want me to leave, I will. I can reinvent myself again. I’ll go west, maybe California.”
He hated the thought of moving, couldn’t even imagine not seeing Belle every day. This was why he’d really put off Tate’s plea to pursue her for so long. He’d been trying to delay this inevitable moment where he asked Belle to accept him strictly in her bed and she turned him down, forever changing both his relationship with her and his friends.
To his surprise, she didn’t slap him across the face. “Why would you leave?”
“Because I think you’ll forgive that horrible night in the suite eventually, but I don’t expect you to forgive me. If leaving means you’ll give them a chance, then I’ll go. I owe them that.”
She sighed and suddenly his arms were full of Belle, his whole world narrowing to the feel of her as she eased herself onto his lap and wrapped herself around him. Just like that, his cock sprang to full attention and he had to shift so he wouldn’t grind himself against her. Instead, he wrapped her tight in his arms. Just a minute. He would let go in just one minute.
“I won’t say I wasn’t mad and hurt, but…” she sighed against him. “I don’t want you to go.”
Her whisper slid warm and tantalizing across his skin. She turned her face up to his, and god help him, Kell couldn’t stop himself. She was right there, so close, her lips just over his. The world slipped away, and nothing mattered except the woman he held close.
He kissed her, his lips on hers, taking hers. The night in the suite had been incendiary, but this was softer, more intimate. So potent and wonderful…and dangerous.
She gasped as he claimed her mouth, but then she opened to him. She followed the rhythm and depth of his kiss with ease, as though they’d shared a thousand such kisses, danced the long slow grind of Dominance and submission together until they were in perfect harmony.
His whole body—not just his cock—reacted to her, tensing, shuddering, hardening. She made his heart pound, his brain haze over. Even breathing felt differen
t when he had Belle in his arms. She made him feel more alive.
He was going to lose himself here if he wasn’t careful.
Abruptly, Kell ended the kiss. He needed to maintain distance between them however he could.
As their eyes met, hers went wide with stunned hurt. “You can’t even kiss me?”
He ached with the need to pull her close again, but the pain hovered just under the surface and he never wanted her to feel the agony he’d endured. “Not like this. This isn’t sex, Belle. This is more. These are feelings, and I can’t do those. I want you so badly, but I can’t have you in any way but sexually. I can’t share more than passion and bodies. So it would be better if I left. You could be happy with them. They really love you, Belle.”
With a long sigh, she let him go and shrank back to her seat, her eyes on the puppy again. He was now in a stare-off with an orange tabby cat dancing on the fence and taunting him. “I don’t know if it will work, Kellan. I think you’re more important to them than you think. From what I can tell, they were drifting before you came to Chicago. I worry they’ll drift again if you leave. I’ve watched you guys for a year now. Your friendship is a delicate balance. You work as a team in every aspect of your lives. I really think it will be the same in a romantic relationship. I think it’s why they’ve been so insistent about sharing.”
He hadn’t thought about it that way. Before they’d met Belle, the three of them hadn’t tried anything beyond a one-night stand because Kellan had refused to try a long-term relationship. But before he’d come along, Tate and Eric had attempted to date women. Nothing had stuck.
What would it be like if Kell dropped out of the picture and his friends made Belle their woman? Tate was too soft around Belle. He just let her walk all over him. Eric didn’t think about things like schedules. Belle would end up managing everything and that might become a burden. Kell recognized that he and Belle worked well together to juggle the details in their daily work lives. He enjoyed sharing that little bond with her. He’d never had a partner either professionally or romantically like Belle. Could he truly leave her and not be gutted?
Through the open door, he heard Tate and Eric start to argue about some case. It had to be getting heated because their voices could be heard over the ugly puppy’s whining. Apparently, furball had lost the staring contest with the cat and now seemed determined to prove he was louder, bigger, and badder. For her part, the cat just stared at some spot beyond the agitated dog. He could practically see the tabby rolling her eyes.
He was the referee, Kellan understood in that moment. He had been since he’d joined the firm. Who would arbitrate Eric and Tate’s often lengthy “debates” if he was gone? They could lose hours of productive time because they’d bicker over tiny interpretations in the language of a contract. Hell, they could waste hours arguing over the latest episode of Game of Thrones.
“Could you at least think about staying for a while?” Belle asked, leaning against him again. “I’m not asking for anything except a little time so we can all figure this thing out. I’m not sure this can work, but I’m willing to think about it.”
And that was all he could really ask. Time. He had a little more of it with her, and that filled him with a disturbing amount of relief. “Yes, I’ll stay. For now.”
He let his arm drift back around her shoulders and promised himself he would get up and deal with his partners.
In just a minute.
Chapter Ten
Three days later, Belle shook her head at Malcolm Gates, completely frustrated by his request. “Didn’t you do an inventory of the house after my grandmother died? Shouldn’t her insurance adjuster have one?”
The lawyer shook his head. He hovered just inside the foyer, but he looked deeply uncomfortable. It was obvious he would prefer to be anywhere else. “No, Miss Wright. The insurance company only had a very basic inventory. Your grandmother scheduled her jewelry and her collection of antiques, but nothing else. I’m afraid for the judge to finalize the will, we’ll need a complete inventory of the house. I’m going to send some workers in to do it for you.”
She saw a truck pull up, searching for a place to park. Her electrician. She definitely wanted to see him. The lights in the house flickered on and off at the oddest times. But other than the man who would ensure her lights worked properly, she didn’t need anyone else tromping through her house.
Updating a place like this would be a painstaking and delicate process. She’d pulled all the furniture to the center of the living room and covered it with a plastic tarp so she could paint the walls the quietly elegant color it deserved. She’d selected a warm, pale gray. She intended to strip the sage-colored paint from the gorgeous original wood trim. Instead, she’d opted for a crisp, clean high-gloss white. She’d also bought a charcoal and white drapery fabric in a damask pattern, as well as a soft white sheer that would peek from beneath the curtains, enabling light to stream in but keeping prying eyes out. A simple plush black area rug would ground the space, and she’d ordered lamps with the same pop of color in their hand-blown glass bases. They’d been a little bit of a splurge, but everything she’d chosen would coordinate perfectly with the attitude of the room. Comfortable but elegant. New Orleans glamour.
Now she’d have to put off the project—and starting her new design business—if she had Gates’s interns stomping around and getting in her way. God knew what they’d do to all this original hardwood flooring. It needed repair, re-sanding, re-staining, and a quality sealer. Until she could have all that done, she didn’t want strangers walking on them, much less moving the furniture or knickknacks around. She already had three men and an eager puppy who wasn’t housebroken running all over the place and causing chaos. Even more distracting, Tate had taken up working shirtless half the time just to tempt her.
“I’ll get you the inventory.” It might take her months, but she refused to have others pawing through her grandmother’s things and slowing down her renovation.
Since moving in here, Belle had become very protective of the woman she’d never met. She’d made it through half her grandmother’s journal, all the way to her dad’s junior high years. Her grandmother had written about how much “her girls” loved him and gushed that he was the king of her castle. So apparently, Grandma had run a business of psychics out of this house. Hiring only females had been fairly smart. Women tended to be more empathetic and in tune with those around them, so they probably made better psychics. Obviously, she’d run a lucrative business, too.
Belle loved getting glimpses into her father’s childhood. The boy her grandmother had written about had been a happy kid. She’d even found some pictures of her dad tucked into the volume. In one, he’d been in overalls, wearing a goofy grin as he hammed it up for the camera.
She often thought that her mother hadn’t smiled much since the day her father died. So much of her life came back to that one tragic afternoon. Her mother had given her food and a roof over her head after his passing, but Mom had been a ghost flitting through life, allowing no one—not even her own daughter—to touch her.
Maybe if she brought her mom these pictures of her dad she’d smile.
Mr. Gates frowned her way. “I don’t think you understand how much work this entails. How precise you must be. This is a big house, and the job is far too big for one person. It would be so much better if you let me handle this. I’ll have it done quickly, but we must have an accounting of every possession, down to the last piece of paper.”
That seemed a bit extreme, but she wasn’t an expert in Louisiana inheritance laws.
Belle sighed, heartily irritated. “Fine. Send a couple of interns, but I’ll be overseeing everything. Thank you, Mr. Gates. Now excuse me.” She nodded toward the electrician, a big guy who made his way up the walk, toolbox in hand. “Hello, Mike.” She opened the door wider, allowing Gates out so the electrician could enter. “I’m glad to see you.”
Mike winked her way. He was a handsome blue-eyed devil in h
is early thirties with broad shoulders and a ready smile. He’d given her an estimate the day before, and Tate had been trying to convince her since then that Mike must be a lothario, a serial killer, or an escapee from a mental ward—whatever he thought would convince her to hire someone else. Eric had threatened to run a background check on the man. She sighed.
“Good to see you, Ms. Belle. I’m going to start in the bathroom today. You have a lot of old knob and tube wiring to bring up to code. You’re damn lucky this place hasn’t burned down yet. Don’t be surprised if your homeowner’s insurance won’t renew you until it’s fixed. It’s happened to more than one resident in the Quarter.”
She winced. Naturally, building codes had changed a great deal since the house had been built. Her grandmother had renovated the house since taking possession of it, but the wiring hadn’t been terribly out of date then. Drywall and paint or wallpaper had covered what people now considered an electrical sin. Still, as low as Mike’s estimate had been, it chafed. Satisfying the city and changing things she really couldn’t see was rapidly depleting her design budget. Unfortunately, it was a safety issue, so she merely smiled. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Mike shrugged. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll see one of your…friends before I see you. They seem mighty interested in watching whatever I happen to be doing.”
As he walked into the house with a grin, Belle groaned.
For three days, Eric, Tate, and Kell had been steadfast. They worked. They cooked. And they tried to seduce her. When she went out to buy supplies for the renovation, at least one of them came along. She’d tried sneaking out yesterday, but Eric had been smiling and standing by her car, swearing he needed a break.
Despite their argument about her employment contract, none of them had tried to rope her into resuming her old job. Belle had noticed a don’t ask/don’t tell policy. As long as she didn’t ask