Their Virgin Secretary (Masters of Ménage #6)(53)

Running out on them probably made her a coward, but Belle had been so relieved to see them. She hadn't wanted to give them the wrong impression or lean on them. They made it so easy. Comfort her after a nightmare, secure a screen door, fix a breaker, check the windows …  She'd had a long list of things to do and now? Poof. They were done. Last night, some part of her had craved nothing more than to let them shoulder her problems, but it would be unfair to rely on them now-to give Tate false hope, to wheedle Eric into giving her more elbow grease, to force Kell into the uncomfortable position of setting her aside again. Her heart probably couldn't take it either.

When Belle started down the second set of stairs, the smell of coffee wafted up from the kitchen. Damn. There went her hopes for a peaceful morning.

She really should have showered before leaving her room. But she still needed to clean the bathrooms and wash towels. No clue if the hot water heater was even working. With a sigh, Belle turned back, thinking a cold shower might do her some good, when the door to the kitchen swung open and Kellan stood, hands on hips, staring down at Sir.

"We need to have a talk, dog. I saw you sniffing around my dress shoes. Don't even think about it." He lifted his dark eyes from the canine and looked her over. Heat flared there briefly. Then he banked it. "Good morning, Belle."

No skipping out now. Eric might not press her to talk immediately. She could invent a reason to convince Tate that she needed to go upstairs. But Kellan would either tie her to a chair … or follow her upstairs. God knew what would happen then.

"Good morning," she murmured. "I was just going to grab some coffee before I showered. I bought some things from the convenience store down the street, but I haven't made it to the grocery store yet. I'll go out in a few minutes to find us some breakfast."

That would take a chunk of time. Today was Monday, so she had to believe the guys intended to get back to work and Chicago soon. They wouldn't leave Sequoia alone at the office for long, surely. So if she could survive a couple of hours without pining for them too obviously, then she would be alone again. Rattling around all by herself in the empty house would be unnerving, so Belle promised herself that she'd call today to get a good security system. And find a nice bottle of wine because she was probably going to cry herself to sleep tonight.

Kellan shook his head. "Eric's already been to the grocery store. He cooked bacon and eggs. They're waiting for you. It's going to be a little simple for a few days, until we can get the oven working properly. You should get in there. Tate's already had a plate. He'll go back for seconds and thirds. Eric claims he eats like a hobbit. I don't know what that is, but apparently it's always hungry."



       
         
       
        

Kellan wasn't big on fantasy films. Tate really did eat somewhat like a hobbit. He was constantly snacking, but somehow that didn't affect his perfect body.

Belle walked into the kitchen and found utter chaos. The big table was covered by paperwork and computers. Cords slithered across the tables like snakes entwined with one another. Cups of coffee cooled in between all the other clutter. Someone had placed a TV on the counter. Currently, the little device spit out news and stock quotes while Tate and Eric both spoke into their cell phones.

"Don't you dare pull that clause on me. That is not the intent of the verbiage, nor is it the language. I will sue you so hard, your children will still be feeling it when they turn eighteen. Do you understand me?" Tate was a sweetheart with her, but he got pissed off when people used his words against him. Belle swore sometimes that he grew claws and fangs when he went into lawyer mode.

"No. No, I can't make that date. We need to settle this. I understand that we have science on our side, but they have a sick little girl with asthma holding her teddy bear. Have you looked at the visuals on this one? No one is going to listen to a bunch of boring medical journals. We're going to lose." Eric ran a hand across his head in an obvious sign of frustration. "We need a different strategy pronto."

Belle stared at her formally grubby kitchen. Every surface she could see appeared to have been wiped clean, then utilized as office space.

She turned on Kellan. "What the hell is going on here?"

He smiled sardonically. "Welcome to the New Orleans branch of Baxter, Cohen, and Kent. I think it's going well for a startup, don't you?"

She gaped at them. They could not be serious. In fact, she could think of a dozen reasons that was impossible-starting with the fact that they didn't have licenses to practice law in Louisiana. Not only that, they could not run a business out of her kitchen. What about their office and life back home?