Their Virgin Secretary (Masters of Ménage #6)(87)

"You know," Tate began, "we could hire someone to revamp the whole place, find someone capable of handling everything."



       
         
       
        

Belle's head snapped up, and he felt her whole body stiffen. "Are you saying I'm not capable?"

A voice in his head told him he was walking into dangerous territory. That same voice always told him he wasn't going to get the girl or say the right thing. But he had Belle now, and she wasn't like every other bitch who'd snubbed him after sex. She didn't expect him to say the right thing all the time. That stupid voice was the product of self-doubt, and it had to go.

"Of course you're capable. I know you want to stay here, but we need to get back to Chicago, baby."

Hadn't they settled this last night? Yeah, she'd said a few days ago that she wanted to stay in New Orleans, but surely she wouldn't have gone to bed with them if she didn't intend to share a future. Chicago was home, and he was anxious to get back. Although he kind of loved that it wasn't cold here yet. He also dug the nifty, weird vibe and charming architecture of New Orleans. When he jogged, he always found something new to see. The city was a chameleon, changing on a daily basis. Tate found it a little weird and wonderful. He'd even found himself running down Royal Street beside a group of dudes in red dresses the other day. He didn't know what the hell was up with that, but they'd looked as if they'd been having fun. Pretty soon he wouldn't have anything in Chicago except frigid temperatures and another average season for the Bears, but everything they'd worked for was there.

She slid off his lap, looking incredulous. Tate wished he hadn't brought the subject up.

Belle took a long sip of her coffee, her stiff body suggesting she grappled for patience as she turned back to them. "I know you need to get back. I'm glad you stayed here with me for a while. I really enjoyed your visit and appreciated your help with the house."

Tate frowned, his whole body going on alert because he'd heard that flat cadence coming from a woman's mouth before. Just before she broke up with him. Just before she explained all the reasons it wouldn't work between them. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Eric stood, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, buddy. We can hang out here for as long as necessary."

"As long as necessary for what?" Belle's lips firmed.

"Nothing, baby. Just as long as you want us here." Eric seemed determined to keep everyone calm.

Tate couldn't let it go. Dread churned an ache in his gut, and it wasn't going to go away until he knew the truth. He'd thought everything had been settled the night before, but maybe history was just repeating itself. "I want you to explain yourself, Belle. I deserve the truth. I've never lied to you. Not once. I've always been straight with you. What are your plans?" 

"I've said for days that I'm going to work on this house and set up a design business." She squared her shoulders. "Don't look so shocked. I told Eric in Dallas this is what I wanted. I quit, Tate. Just because you didn't accept it doesn't make it less true. I don't want to be a secretary for the rest of my life."

He tried to force down the panic invading his system. Keep cool. Don't blow it. She deserved the career she wanted. Her desire and his didn't have to be mutually exclusive.

"I understand. You've got a dream," Tate acknowledged. "We'll help you find a space in Chicago. Baby, you have to understand that everything we've built is there. We can't drop our livelihoods to move here."

"I didn't ask you to." She pressed her lips together in a grim line. "But I'm not going back to Chicago."

"We don't have to decide any of this right now," Eric interjected.

Tate ignored him. "Seriously? What about last night?"

Making love to Belle had meant everything to him. His whole life had built up to the one moment he'd joined his body to hers and found what he truly wanted in life. All the hours sweating in the gym and enduring the users who'd wanted him just for sex had shaped him. Until last night, he thought he'd put up with it because that was the cost of getting some. Now he knew he'd unconsciously done those things to become the man for her. He'd found his calling. Practicing law was great, but he wanted to make Annabelle Wright happy. He wanted to be her husband and build an extraordinary life with her and his best friends.

How could she not want that, too?

She shrugged, her gaze sliding away from his. "I enjoyed it, Tate. But you can't expect that I would give up all my hopes and dreams because I liked what you did in bed. Can't you see that I have a chance to create my dream here?"