The three of them stopped everything, just froze as if someone had hit the off button to stop all motion. Vaguely, he was aware that his body ached. Blood trickled down his lip, but the shame that suddenly overtook him was worse than any physical discomfort.
Belle stood before them looking more stripped of confidence than he’d ever seen her. With eyes swollen and nose red, she’d obviously been crying. The sight of her tears kicked him in the gut, tearing through him in a way Tate’s fists couldn’t. Her pretty cocktail gown was wrinkled. Just minutes before, she’d been naked in his arms and she’d practically glowed. Now her light was gone, replaced with a deep grief stamped into her face. His words had done that to her.
“Please stop,” she said, her voice beyond weary. “I can’t stand the fact that you’re fighting, especially about me. Please.”
He scrambled to his feet because he couldn’t cause her another moment of pain. “I’m sorry, Annabelle.”
He took a step toward her, and she flinched back, shaking her head. “Don’t.”
Tate was on his feet, reaching out for her, but Eric stopped him.
“I’m going to go.” Belle looked down, focused on the shoes she held in her hand.
God, she couldn’t even look at the three of them. That fact, along with the sight of her bare feet, made him realize just how vulnerable she must feel. He’d made her self-conscious, stripped her bare. He couldn’t lie to himself. Eric might have been surprised, but Kell knew that if he hadn’t opened his mouth, the guy would have recovered. He and Tate would have not only saved the situation, but treasured her innocence.
Kell should have left her to the two men who would love her always, but he’d blurted out the first thing in his head, not even thinking about the possible outcome. He’d been shocked and bitter that he’d never be good enough for her. He hadn’t even realized how badly his words would crush her—more proof that he didn’t deserve her.
“Belle, I’m so sorry.” For so many things. That he’d upset her, yes. Mostly he was sorry that he was too damaged to show her how much she meant to him.
She gave him a shaky nod. “Me, too.”
As she headed to the door, Tate called her back. “Belle, let’s talk about this.”
She clutched the door handle and turned back. “I can’t tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the meeting.”
And then she was gone, the door closing quietly behind her with terrible finality.
“We can’t let her leave like this,” Tate said, starting after her.
Eric wedged himself between Tate and the door. “Give her a little time, man. I don’t think she’s up to talking tonight. Let her have some space. Once she’s less fragile and we’re less angry, we’ll all sit down and work it out, but now, we’ll only fight.”
“But she was crying.” Sometimes Tate was good at pointing out the obvious.
“We need to let her cry, if that’s what she wants.”
“She shouldn’t have to do it alone. She should know how we feel about her,” Tate argued.
“I think, deep down, she does. But if you go after her now, you’ll be sending her a message,” Eric explained. “She wants all of us. Contrary to dumbass’s suave speech tonight”—he pointed at Kell—“we all want her. If we’re going to make this right, we have to go after her together or not at all. And before we can do that, the three of us have to sit our asses down and hash this out because that was a total cluster fuck.”
Kellan looked to Eric, totally shocked that his old friend wasn’t shoving him out the door or starting another fight. “I think I should go find another room. This is a conversation for you and Tate. We can talk about how to break up the business later. I won’t be there for the meeting in the morning.”
Eric’s eyes rolled. “God, you’re such a dramatic fucker. We’re not doing that.”
“I still want to beat the fuck out of you.” Tate got up and ambled to the bathroom.
The shower came on, and Kellan figured their fight was over. He turned his attention to Eric, willing him to understand. “I can’t stay around, man. She won’t ever work with me again, and Tate will blame me for the rest of our lives if Belle walks away.”
“We’ll come up with a strategy and we won’t let her walk away. We’ll come up with a plan.” Eric sounded resolved as he started righting the furniture they’d nearly wrecked in their fight. “You’re lying to yourself if you think you don’t want her anymore.”
He should be walking out. There was no reason to stay. He’d sealed his fate the minute he’d broken her heart. So why wasn’t he packing up and moving down the line the way he always did? Because he owed his friends some honesty.
“I still do.”
“All right then, you’re lying to yourself if you think you don’t love her.”
What did he feel for Belle? Kell really wasn’t sure. He wanted her so badly, but it went beyond her body, beyond her lovely face. Of course he liked her. In fact, he loved to talk to her, loved to just sit in her presence. He found an odd peace when they were in the same room. They didn’t even have to be speaking, just going about their business. She often hummed a little as she worked. He always looked forward to the moment she inevitably turned to ask if he wanted coffee, showing her submissive, nurturing side. He’d loved to fantasize that she might go down on her knees and ask how else she might please him.
The idea of never having those quiet afternoons with her again pierced his heart.
Fuck, did he even know what love was? Would he know if it bit him in the ass?
“I don’t know, man. I just know I can’t get married again.”
Eric regarded him with a serious expression. “When you weren’t thinking at all, you were setting up a D/s relationship with her. You take that seriously. You were more than willing to initiate her into Dominance and submission, but you won’t teach her about sex? Look, I was shocked, too. I have no idea how a woman that hot manages to stay a virgin, but I don’t care how many lovers she has—or hasn’t—had as long I get to be one of them. The last of them. Can you stand the thought of her kneeling for another Master?”
Eric’s words made him see red all over again. His pal might not be a good liar, but he was a fucking master of manipulation. He’d known exactly where to strike. “Of course I don’t, but I just broke her.”
“So help us put her back together.”
Eric made it sound so simple, but Kell didn’t see how. Belle would never forgive him. Would she?
“I’ll see her tomorrow, but only to apologize.” He would make sure she understood that her virginity wasn’t the problem, just his scarred heart. He would swear to her that if he was half the man he should be, he would give her everything he owned, share every day and night with her. He would love her.
But that was a stupid-ass pipe dream. So even if it killed him, he would leave and let her find the love she deserved.
Chapter Five
Belle looked through the peephole of her hotel room door, praying that she wouldn’t see Tate or Eric standing in the hall. Even an hour after she’d been utterly humiliated, she was still shaking a little. A shower had soothed her, but she couldn’t seem to stop crying.
She sighed in relief when she saw a blonde with a puppy in her arms, grinning like a loon and waving at the peephole.
It was Kinley’s big day. Belle couldn’t bring herself to ruin the closest thing her friend would have to a wedding. Wincing, she stepped back. Maybe Kinley would think she wasn’t in.
Another knock. “Belle? Belle, I know you’re in there. Open up or I’ll convince the desk manager that I think you’re dead in there and I need to collect your body.”