She dug into the box, trying to busy herself … but in the back of her head, she couldn't help but wonder how much longer she could resist them.
"Belle!" Kellan strode down the stairs, her puppy in the crook of his arm. "Your rat-thing crapped in my dress shoes. Do you have any idea how expensive those damn loafers were?"
She did since she'd been the one to order them. "Sir, please stop that."
Belle refused to chastise the puppy too much. He still wasn't completely housebroken, and he'd likely forgotten to bark at her so that she knew he needed to go.
She reached for her dog, watching as Kellan's face went red. She winced inwardly because she'd managed to get through three whole days without the big bad Dom figuring out her little joke. But now the jig was about to be up. She winced.
"What is it you think I need to stop, Belle?" He clipped and carefully enunciated every word.
She scrambled to avoid answering him because she and Kellan had formed a decent truce and she was reluctant to upset him. "Uhm, you have to stop holding my dog that way. He needs to have his underbelly completely supported or he feels unsafe."
Sir proved her words a lie as he did everything he could to wriggle out of her grasp.
Kell ground his teeth together. "Annabelle, did you name that thing Sir?"
She tried to send him a bright smile. "I wanted to help his self-esteem. I'm sure he could be an alpha dog."
The puppy yipped, and Belle let him down. Immediately, he started chasing his tail. Somewhere beyond the kitchen, a door slammed shut. Sir scampered behind Kellan with a little whine.
He shook his head. "You're changing his name."
"Am not," she said quietly as he walked into the kitchen.
"You absolutely are. Now, Annabelle."
"My house. My dog." She marched toward the living room, Sir hard on her heels.
Kellan came after her. The ringing of his phone was the only thing that saved her from more of this confrontation. Belle left the room while she could … but she was pretty sure he would think of some punishment soon.
* * * *
Tate sighed and let his weary body slide into the chair across from Kellan. Painting sucked. It wasn't nearly as much fun as sex, but Belle probably didn't trust that there'd be no repeat of the debacle in Dallas. And she obviously wasn't ready.
The question was, would she ever be ready?
All Belle seemed interested in was reading that journal of her grandmother's and fixing up this old house, though they'd had a promising couple of minutes earlier in the day, so Tate had high hopes for the evening. But right after dinner, Belle had escaped into her grandmother's office and began browsing an old photo album she'd found.
Her father's mother had been a beauty who had surrounded herself with other gorgeous women. Page after page showed pictures of Belle's grandma standing near women who looked like they belonged on the silver screen. He'd loved the smile on Belle's face as she pointed out her dad during various stages of his childhood and adolescence.
Again, Tate recalled the day she'd spoken to him about her father's death. She'd haltingly admitted that her mom had shut down after he'd died. Though she'd received basic care, Belle had been utterly alone. He related. Even in a house filled with family, no one who shared his flesh and blood had reached out to him as a child. He wondered if that festering hurt caused any of Belle's hesitation to dive into a relationship now.
Eric walked into their "office," yawning. "I got the briefs filed in time. I'm going to have to fly back next week. I don't want to, but I have to handle the court date myself."
After just three days away, the strain on their business was becoming evident. They could handle much of their case load via computer and phone, but Kellan and Eric still appeared in court routinely. Tate avoided it like the plague. Mostly because he'd come to realize that judges were pompous windbags who liked to hear themselves talk, and being forced to listen to other lawyers pontificate made him want to punch someone in the face. He preferred contracts and corporate clients to dealing with criminal cases. He usually ended up wanting to punch unscrupulous assholes, too. Tate understood the law. People were another matter altogether.
At the moment, that included Belle.
"Okay. Do you need me to schedule the flight?" He was probably the only one of them who remembered their passwords.
"Yeah. Fuck, we need a secretary." Eric sat in the chair beside him.
Kellan chuckled. "Yeah, I don't think any of us really understood until now how much Belle did for us."