Their Virgin Secretary (Masters of Ménage #6)(8)

Eric was offering him the keys to the kingdom. Sex with the woman he was crazy about-and without a shred of responsibility so he wouldn't get too close. That way, she couldn't break his heart. What more could he want?

He looked out over the dance floor in time to see her turn his way. She laughed at something Tate said. God, her vibrancy made her the most beautiful woman in the room. Her lips curled up and her eyes sparkled. Her goodness came from within. Everything about her compelled him to watch her. Belle enjoyed life in a way he never had. He might have grown up with every privilege imaginable, but he didn't think he'd ever smiled in sheer joy the way she did.

Tate looked down at her and the fucker beamed. He was a first class, hard-core nerd who dissected every situation and never spared anyone's feelings. But the man practically melted when Belle was near. Since she had walked into their lives, she'd suggested that Tate stop studying everything to death and just enjoy life. The transformation hadn't been overnight, but after a little coaching from Belle and a whole lot of conscious thought, he had relaxed until he'd become almost human.

A year ago, Eric had worked every waking hour. Belle had urged him to jettison his father's mentality that being anything less than number one simply made him a loser. She'd helped him forgive himself for almost failing shortly after he and Tate had opened the practice. After a few months of listening to her, the weight slowly lifted from his shoulders. Now, he even took an occasional vacation day. 

They had every reason to love Annabelle.

She said something to Tate that had him laughing. Then he wrapped her hand in his and led her off the dance floor as the music faded. Someone gently tapped a fork against a wine glass to get the crowd's attention.

As the pair approached, Eric leaned over to Kell with a whisper. "All I'm saying is you're welcome to join us. You helped us out when we were in trouble, man. Let us help you. Tate and I will handle everything. We'll move her into our place. All you have to do for now is be kind and show up for sex."

Their place was a big two story that looked ready for kids and a wife and all that suburban shit Kell had given up on long ago. They'd invited him to stay in one of the empty bedrooms, but he needed his own space.

Hell, that was what he'd told himself. The reality was he didn't want to rattle around that big house with all its silent promises mocking him. Backyard barbecues, family dinners, and rug rats playing. Eric and Tate headed toward a destination he couldn't handle. It would benefit everyone if he kept himself apart.

But what if he could have some stolen nights with her? Not alone, of course. He would utterly respect their claim on her. After all, they would take care of her financially, mentally, emotionally. He would just be the one who brought her momentary pleasure.

Belle sank down into the chair next to him. She'd sat at the table of honor during dinner, but as soon as the dancing had begun, she'd returned to them. "Come on, guys. It looks like Kinley is going to play this to the hilt. Pray she doesn't ask me to toast the bride and groom. I have no idea what I'll say."

But she would come up with something. Hell, if Kinley asked her to serenade the dogs, Belle would get up and belt out a tune because she was fearless.

"Before we get to more dancing, I wanted to invite the maid of honor up to say a few words about the bride and groom and their beautiful love for one another." Kinley nodded toward their table.

The bride was asleep, curled up on her chair. The groom was scratching his ear as he looked out over the room.

Belle sighed, but rose to her feet. "All right, then. My friend is insane and I'm going to talk about dog love. Just another day in my off-kilter life."

He watched as Belle crossed the room to Kinley and took the microphone. "Love comes in many forms. Gigi and Butch … "

She continued on, talking about adoration, respect, and commitment.

"Tate is right. I think we should go in." Eric asked. "What do you say?"

"Are you serious?" When he nodded, Tate's eyes widened. "Thank god. I got on the dance floor and we started talking. I couldn't think of anything to say except how much I admired the symmetry of her face. I gave her percentages as proof of how symmetrical her face is because I extrapolated measurements from her pictures. It was either that or offering her my penis."

Eric sighed long and hard. "It will be a miracle if she says yes."

Kell silently agreed. But if she did, he might have a couple of nights of happiness. His friends would cocoon her in their protection and care. They would make sure he didn't hurt Belle. "All right. If we're going to approach her, we'll need to formulate a game plan soon. No more percentages or numbers, Tate. We play this smooth and easy. She won't know what hit her."