Their Virgin Secretary (Masters of Ménage #6)(67)

Sure, probate law differed slightly from state to state, but if Marie Wright had left everything to her granddaughter and Belle didn't have any contentious relatives to share the estate with, Tate couldn't think of any reason the state would need a complete inventory.

"What? That makes no sense." Eric frowned. "I guess that explains all the five-year-olds in ties crawling inside the house today."

"Yeah. Look into that lawyer," Kellan said. "These interns weren't just jotting down an inventory. They were poking and prodding and taking shit apart. And we should also look into our dear friend, Mike the electrician. He crawls up my back."

Tate kind of hated the fucker, too. He especially didn't like the way ol' Mikey smiled at Belle, as if the expression was a come-on. He was one charming asshole who needed to keep his eyes off other guys' girls. Except she wasn't really his. Crap, did she like the electrician? He probably didn't cite statistics or verbally offer his penis.

"I don't think he's very good at his job," Tate asserted. "He got lost all over the house. I had to tell him where to go three times today."

"I'd like to tell him where to go," Eric growled. "I know there are a lot of rooms in this house, but he seemed more interested in what was in Belle's personal space than any wiring behind the walls."

"I watched him, too. I agree," Kellan said, sitting back. "So are we all on the same page?"

Well, two of them were. Kellan just happened to write the page. He wasn't actually on it with them. Tate just had to keep hoping that Kell's feelings for Belle would eventually fix that. "Are you going to help us out?"

Kellan's jaw tightened. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"So you're going to let the bitch from hell keep defeating you." Tate was really sick of the excuses.

"You don't understand," Kellan shot back, obviously trying to be patient with him.

And he was sick of people's patient attitudes as they talked down to him, too. Yes, he was socially awkward, but he wasn't a moron. "I understand that if you let Belle go, your ex and your dad have won again."

Kellan forced his chair back, the loud scrape filling up the quiet room. "Again, you know nothing about the situation, so it would be best if you stayed out of it. You weren't raised the way I was. You weren't dragged through shit by your own family." 

Tate couldn't stop his eyes from rolling. "Yeah, man, my childhood was a blast. So was Eric's."

"Your father didn't impregnate your wife," Kellan ground out.

"And your dad didn't lock you in a room for three days when you came home with a 92 on a test." Everyone had their troubles. Sometimes Kellan couldn't see past his, and Tate realized he'd been treating his pal with kid gloves. Time to take them off.

"Your dad did that?" Kellan asked, horrified.

Tate could remember how humiliating it had been. "He left me with two bottles of water and a loaf of bread and he said that was how I would have to live if I didn't study harder. And your dad didn't tell you that you were a worthless wimp because you pulled out of football after your second concussion led to short-term memory loss."

Eric held up a hand. "That was my asshole dad. He was a man's man. Men played football. Brain damage was just a minor battle scar in his book. Look, none of us had it great in the dad department. My mom has only been a good parent since she left my dad."

"And you didn't have to contend with two brothers who called you a moron because you snuck in a little TV time at a neighbor's house. The brainless box rots intelligence, according to my mother. They forbid television, books that weren't academic, and most sports. Absolutely no girls. Hell, friends were even discouraged. I didn't really have one until I met Eric." The awkward day in high school when he'd been assigned to force some math into the jock's head had been the single biggest turning point in his life.

"Okay," Kell conceded. "So we all had some form of shithead for a father."

"But that's the past," Tate stressed. "I think our future is upstairs in bed by herself because we didn't handle her right. I don't want to be that kid stuck in a room again. I broke out of it a long time ago and I won't go back in. Whatever cell your bitch of an ex locked you in, you need to shove the door open. Otherwise, you're letting her trap you inside."

Eric's eyes went wide. "Wow, Tate. That is the most emotionally astute thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth, man."

"I can learn." He rolled his eyes.

He'd actually worked really hard to figure out why the people he cared about did the things they did. He just wasn't always right. In this case, though, he was dead-on.