Their Virgin Secretary (Masters of Ménage #6)(138)

What were they doing standing in this room?

The older woman smiled at him, giving Kellan a look of such beatific peace that it filled him, warming him when he'd been getting so cold before. She looked down at him.

Thank you.

She held out both of her hands and the girls took them, threading their fingers together.

We're done here, son, but you're not. You hold on. My baby girl needs all her men. And you tell her a cleansing will work now. The demon who lives here has been defeated. He can't hurt these girls anymore. They're free, and so am I. Bring new life to this place, son. It's a good house again.

What the fuck? That couldn't be Belle's grandmother. He didn't believe in ghosts.

She frowned. Such language. And you might not believe in ghosts, but this one believes in you. Hold on, Kellan Kent. If you want a future, fight for your life now.

Just before he passed out, he could have sworn he saw a light.

Yeah, he wasn't going to walk into it. He had things to do here like marry the woman of his dreams and live happily ever after with her and his best friends.

Kellan let the darkness take him.





Chapter Twenty-One



Kellan frowned at Eric. The sounds of the party around him filled the space and made it hard to hold a conversation with someone two feet away. When Belle threw a party, she got serious. Now that the common rooms of the house had been painted and furnished, their floors refinished to a gleam, she'd insisted on planning a party for all their friends to show off the house.

But only after he'd assured her he was going to make a full recovery from his bullet wound. At the beginning of his recovery, Belle had proven to be a hard taskmaster when it came to his rehab.

"Are you absolutely sure it wasn't you?" Kellan asked, searching for Belle across the crowded room.



       
         
       
        

When he found her, his heart seized up. She looked luminous in a snowy white cocktail gown, the color contrasting with the gorgeous mocha of her skin. It skimmed over her every curve and showed off her truly juicy ass.

"I swear to you I didn't push you out of the way," Eric promised. "I had barely gotten up the stairs when that first shot rang out. I was behind Gates. How would I have pushed you? Your memory of that night is probably fuzzy. Are you sure you're feeling all right? Maybe you've done too much too fast."

Besides the fact that he was becoming more and more certain that he'd been saved by a trio of sweet-faced ghosts, he was feeling positively chipper. Well, his body was in good condition. His head was still fairly messed up, but he was going to deal with that problem tonight.

"I'm fine. I saw my personal physician when I was in Chicago." He'd only gotten back to New Orleans a few hours before. He'd been surprised to realize just how much he'd missed the place. A week back in the city he'd called home for the last several years had proven to be illuminating. He'd thought he'd easily settle back in, but he'd longed for the sultry heat of New Orleans, for the smell of strong coffee and beignets in the morning. He'd missed so much about the city. He'd especially missed hearing Belle laugh.

Eric's smile became tight, a sure sign he was annoyed. "How was Chicago?"

His friend likely thought he'd spent his time there working to reestablish himself. Kellan had given that notion some thought. Even after his near-death experience, the need to build walls, to make himself safe had been so strong. He'd awakened in the hospital with Belle asleep at his side, while Tate and Eric paced the floor. They had been steadfast through his recovery, and yet some part of him had still felt the urge to distance himself. He'd been so savaged by Lila and his father that he'd been reluctant to jump into his forever with two feet.

"It was nice. The office was actually in pretty good shape. Sequoia has strewn plants all around the place though," Kellan said, taking a drink of the rum punch Belle had made. "Says the environment is more organic that way."

Eric shook his head.

New Orleans jazz played through the living room, but the sweetest sound was Belle's giggle as she joked with her best friend. Kinley Anthony-Anders said something else, and Belle threw her head back and laughed with unselfconscious joy.

There was a deep part of him that would likely always want to hide and protect himself, to build those walls no one could climb. He wasn't listening to that bastard anymore. How could he? Forced to choose between that voice and Belle …  No contest. He was home now and he was going to stay here. But it was fun to fuck with Eric's head. 

"We need to decide what to do with Sequoia actually. His internship is supposed to last another six months, after all." There was a little question in Eric's voice.