Didn’t they get it? “Because she’s waiting for us to make a move.”
“Or she’s just working hard and isn’t ready to settle down,” Kellan pointed out. “She’s young, man.”
“It’s not like we’re old.”
At least Tate didn’t feel old. He was thirty-two. Given that the average life expectancy of an American male was seventy-six, that didn’t sound old. Then he did the math and realized that he was forty-two percent of the way through his accepted life expectancy. Forty-two percent—closing in on half. When he looked at it that way, he did feel old. He refused to waste another second.
“That’s it.” Tate stood and straightened his tie. “I’m going in.”
God, he hoped he looked halfway decent because he often got rumpled and didn’t notice. He would probably still be wearing pocket protectors if he hadn’t become good friends with Eric in high school.
He’d tutored the jock through Algebra II, and Eric had taught him that jeans weren’t supposed to hit above the ankles. They’d been a weird duo, the jock and the nerd. But their relationship meant more to him than any other. His parents were cold intellectuals who had told him he’d failed by not going into academic pursuits—because yeah, Harvard law had been a breeze. His brothers cared more about their experiments than family. So Tate and Eric had stuck together like blood, and Kellan had joined them after college to form the tight-knit trio.
But Tate realized now that he needed more. He needed Belle. So did they, but if they had their heads too far up their asses… Well, she had to come first. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to offer her my penis.”
Eric’s head hit the table and he groaned. “Dude, how do you ever get laid?”
So he wasn’t smooth. At least he was honest. “She already has my heart. I would like for her to take my penis, too. Is that so much to ask?”
“If you ask her like that, she’ll smack you,” Kellan pointed out.
Frustration welled. He sat back down. “Damn it, that’s why we need to go after her as a pack. I’m not good at the smooth stuff.”
“By smooth stuff, he means any type of actual communication with a woman.” Eric rolled his eyes.
They were totally missing the point. “I communicate fine. She’ll know what I want and how I want it.”
“Which is precisely why she’ll know where she wants to slap you next.” Kellan shook his head. “This might be a bad idea, but it couldn’t hurt for you to dance with her. Can you do that without asking her to take your penis in marriage?”
He wasn’t completely sure. His cock had a mind of its own. “I’ll try to handle it.”
“Good. Go on, then. I’ll talk to Eric.” Kell sighed. “I guess we really do need to figure out how to handle her. I can’t stand the thought of another uncomfortable plane trip back. She didn’t talk to me the whole flight down. The hands-off approach isn’t working. I get the feeling she’s just about ready to throw in the towel and leave us all.” Kellan’s eyes narrowed suddenly. “And that asshole isn’t married. Go. Make sure he doesn’t get his hands on Belle.”
Tate’s stare zipped to her. Sure enough, a guy was cutting in on Lennox. He leered down at Annabelle, then stared directly at her boobs.
Those boobs were his, damn it. At least he fully intended for those boobs to belong to him. Well, a third of them anyway. “You two work it out because I’m making a move by the end of the night, and if you leave this up to me, it could all go to hell.”
He knew he was the social idiot of the group, but he was the only one completely honest with himself. Belle was the one for all three of them. She made him feel like the best version of himself, encouraged him to actually give a damn what other people thought, helped him put someone else above himself, and gave him no choice but to love her. Sure, the real world would think he, Eric, and Kell were freaks for loving the same woman, but the real world sucked. According to them, he’d been a freak most of his life. So what? They’d have their circle of friends, all of whom had a similar relationship with their own wives, to make them feel normal.
Either way, he wasn’t going to let Belle slip through his fingers. He had a genius-level IQ, but he’d figured out something his parents and brothers hadn’t: His intellect meant nothing if he didn’t have people to care about, those who truly loved him in return. A Nobel Prize wouldn’t keep him warm at night, wouldn’t give him something to really live for.
But she could.
Tate stared at her for a moment, loving the way the light played on the coffee color of her skin. She smiled up at her dance partner, her expression lighting up the whole damn world.
She was his, and he was tired of waiting. It was time to really start his life and that meant it was time to claim her.
Fuck, he hoped he didn’t step on her feet.
Chapter Two
Kellan watched Tate awkwardly take Belle into his arms, trying to find his rhythm. He couldn’t dance for shit, but he sure tried. Belle didn’t seem to mind his lumbering moves. She gave him a glowing smile and followed him with the grace of a woman who moved her body easily and well.
She would move that way in bed, reacting to her partner’s every touch with sensual grace. She would follow him, letting him lead, allowing her Dom to take control of the situation to bring her maximum pleasure.
He would give just about anything to be that Dom.