Shayla Black - Their Virgin Secretary

“Did you?” Annabelle looked amused.

“No. Tate was always interested in females. He just didn’t think he had a shot. I helped him improve his chances.”

“By sharing girls with him?”

“Not at first. To begin, we started working out together after school. I taught him how to dress. I still haven’t been able to impart any level of smooth talk to him, but it’s cool. I’m not sure I’d know what to do with a Tate who didn’t shove his foot in his mouth three times a day.”

“I like how honest he is.” She swayed as the music changed to a slower beat. “I can always trust what he says because he can’t be bothered to lie. Of course it also means that when I ask him if I look fat in a pair of jeans, I get a percentage. He told me I only looked three percent larger and then went on to explain how the cut of the jeans slightly added to the visual footage. I didn’t understand his calculation, but I stopped buying boot cut jeans anyway.”

That was Tate in a nutshell. “He didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“He didn’t. He also said that given my relative dimensions, such a low percentage of change in perceptive body mass did not diminish my attractiveness.”

Eric couldn’t help but laugh. That was how Tate would tell a woman he thought she was hot.

He caught sight of his friend, who stood just off the dance floor, obviously watching them and waiting. Would Belle be shocked by what they wanted?

“I’m glad everything worked out for you two. It’s just not working as well for me. I think I might go back to design.” She said the words so quietly he strained to hear her.

“What do you mean? On the side?” She already worked pretty late hours. If they were in the office, she tended to stay, too. He wasn’t sure how she would work in a hobby.

“No. I’m thinking about making a change. I guess I should warn you guys. This just isn’t what I wanted to do with my life. It’s not that I don’t like my job, and you all are great, but I need something more. I watch you, Kell, and Tate. You have purpose. You’re doing what feeds your soul. I need to find that something for me.”

He had to force himself not to stop in the middle of the dance floor. “You’re telling me you’re quitting?”

That wasn’t supposed to happen. Eric tried not to panic. They needed her close. Nothing would work if they didn’t see her daily. Now, he might not see her at all.

How the hell had this happened?

“No, I’m not quitting. I mean, not yet. I need to find the courage to find another design job or go out on my own. Wow, I just realized how mercenary I sounded. I’m not trying to use you. Like I said, I like all three of you. I just need a career I love.” She was the one who stopped, her feet seeming to plant on the floor beneath her. Her gorgeous face twisted in regret. “I shouldn’t have said anything. This whole wedding has me throwing myself a pity party. Please don’t fire me.”

He felt like he’d been tossed into the middle of a hurricane. One minute she was quitting, and the next he was going to fire her? He felt his control slip. Crap, he had to get himself together. He couldn’t rely on hotheaded Kellan. And Tate wouldn’t know the words “emotional control” if they whacked him in the face. Somewhere in the back of his head, Eric knew they were all in trouble if he lost it, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

“Why the hell would I fire you?”

She shook her head and spoke slowly, as though she realized he was struggling to keep up with her. “Because I just told you I’m going to quit eventually. You might think it’s a better move to replace me now.”

“I have zero interest in replacing you. But I’m shocked we’re not making you happy. I thought we were.” They took care of her in every way she’d let them. They made sure she got home safely at night. Under the guise of Tate’s curiosity about combustion engines, they’d gotten a mechanic to fix everything on her old clunker because they couldn’t figure out a way to con her into accepting a new car from them.

“It’s not you,” she assured softly. “This just isn’t what I wanted to do with my life. For a lot of reasons, I just…I don’t think I can ever be truly fulfilled in this situation.”

Anger began to rattle through his system. They treated her like a freaking queen. She ruled the office. When Belle wanted to replace the coffee maker with a cappuccino machine because she liked an afternoon latte, they’d bought a machine that Starbucks would envy. She hadn’t liked the carpet. Yep, two days later it was gone and they were out thousands of dollars on something she’d called Brazilian cherry. They’d even let her pick the floors.

“You think you’ll find better bosses elsewhere? You want to take the chance that you’ll be hired by another asshole who will chase you around his desk?” He suddenly itched for a fight.

Belle shook her head. “Honey, I wasn’t talking about the work situation. I wasn’t. You three are wonderful bosses. I couldn’t ask for better.” She reached out, cupping her fingers around his cheek. “You’ve got that eye twitch thing going. Take a deep breath and calm down.”

When he got really angry, an annoying tic spasmed over his left eye. The fact she could see it only pissed him off more.

Belle soothed the pads of her fingers over it, her voice slowing and calming. “See, everyone thinks Kell is the angry one, but you hold so much inside. You’re going to explode one day, Eric. I wish you would just let it out.”

Just like that, his anger turned on a dime, morphing into something tender. She understood him. He needed that from her. Hell, he needed her. She calmed him. She fucking got him.

He reached up and caught her hand in his. “I don’t want you to leave, Belle. I’ll do pretty much anything to make you happy so you’ll stay with us.”

With her this close, he could feel the silky smoothness of her caramel skin, the warmth of her body, and he couldn’t hold back.

“It’s not just about the job, Eric. Yes, I want to be creative and use my degree, but I also want what you guys have,” she admitted, her voice vulnerable. “A little family.”

He took her by the shoulders and brought her as close as he dared. “You’re a very important part of our family, Belle. We won’t function without you.”

God, he had spent the last year plotting how to make her the center of their lives, but now he could see how easily she’d already found her way there. If Belle left, they would be gutted.

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.”

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?