She shook her head. “I can’t be just the secretary, Eric. It hurts too much.”
As soon as the words were out, she clasped her hand over her mouth with a gasp.
“What does that mean?” he demanded.
Belle stumbled back, just out of his reach. “Nothing. I’ve had too much to drink and I should shut up. It’s time I go to bed and put this idiocy behind me. We have a meeting in the morning. I’ll see you then.”
She turned and headed toward the edge of the dance floor. Tate watched with a frown and pushed his way through the crowd.
“What the hell did you do?” Tate demanded, his voice rising. “You’re supposed to be the smooth talker, but she was crying.”
Kellan, thankfully, hadn’t lumbered across the floor like an overgrown bear. Instead, he’d followed Belle.
Eric watched as she race-walked in her stilettos toward the ballroom doors, her hips moving in that assertive sway he knew so well. Fuck, even when she fled from him, she made him hard.
“Let’s go.” He urged Tate to follow Kellan.
They needed to move this confrontation somewhere private because his dance with Belle had proven it was past time to show her where she belonged. She thought she wasn’t a member of this little family? By god, when he was done, Eric vowed she’d understand that she was the center of it. By morning, he’d make damn sure she had no more questions about quitting her job or starting some new family apart from them. If she wanted to go into design, she could damn well do it in their building. They would set up an office for her where she could be close to them all the time. But there was no fucking way he would let her go.
“Explain what just happened.” Tate gestured to the hallway down which she’d just disappeared, Kellan following like a wolf stalking a particularly juicy bit of prey.
But they were a pack and they needed to take her down together.
“Come on. I’ll fill you in on the way.” Eric started toward the doors.
He felt Tate fall in beside him, just like he’d been doing since they were teenagers.
“It’s time, isn’t it?” A goofy-ass smile spread across his best friend’s face.
To start their future with Belle? “Oh, yeah. It’s time.”
Chapter Three
Belle had to force herself to breathe. God, she’d just made a complete and utter fool of herself. What had she been thinking? She’d blamed the alcohol, but that was a lie. She’d had exactly two glasses of wine all night long. The liquor hadn’t muddled her brain or turned her into an emotional mess. No, the wedding had done that. Not the canine vows, but watching Kinley with her men, the Lennox brothers with their shared wife, not to mention the close-knit James gang and the royals doting on their pretty bride. Seeing all the love in the room and realizing that none of it was for her had driven pain into her heart.
Her plan to snare their attention tonight had utterly failed. She’d chosen her clothes so carefully, selecting a dress she hoped played well against her cool skin tone and a cut that hugged her curves. Hoping they’d finally see her as a woman—their woman—she had bought a pair of black-and-white Pradas that set her budget back by months. She’d nearly succumbed to the urge to take Kinley’s advice and tell them what she wanted, especially when she had been on the dance floor with Eric…but she’d lost her nerve. If they knew what she wanted, would they simply pity her or laugh outright?
As the evening had dragged on and several single beauties eyed her bosses, Belle hadn’t been able to watch. She couldn’t stand the thought of seeing them hook up for the night. No, she didn’t think they’d noticed any other woman, much less tried to get anyone’s attention, but men that hot didn’t have to. Before the end of the party, some thin thing would wink their way, and the three of them would probably disappear with her. And Belle knew her heart would break.
She strode down the hall toward her room. She was stuck being something between a little sister and an employee to them. They’d never pretended to want more. They hadn’t promised her a thing. She was going to owe Eric an apology in the morning. They were the best bosses anyone would have, but she’d complained. Not surprising that he’d misunderstood. He must think the worst of her, and she couldn’t blame him. The thought only made her tears come harder.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Kellan. Even without turning around, she knew it. His voice stopped her in her tracks.
Belle couldn’t look at him while she had tears in her eyes. Thank god for waterproof mascara, but he would still be able to tell she was crying. Without a doubt, that would raise questions. He’d bark them, and she didn’t have the heart or the energy to answer.
“I’m tired, Kell,” she said without facing him. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to my room. I’ll be ready for the meeting in the morning.”
Please let him go away. Please. Please.
No such luck. He moved silently, but she felt the moment he entered her space. “Look at me.”
It took everything she had not to obey him and turn around. When he used that voice on her, she wanted to so badly. In fact, when he spoke to her like that, she’d do just about anything to please him. Belle closed her eyes and dredged up the strength to refuse him. “Please, Kell. I just want to go to bed.”
“What did Eric say to you? Turn around, look at me, and tell me what happened so I can fix it.”