“All the downstairs windows are locked,” Eric said a minute later. “I checked. Are you sure someone was actually in the house?”
“I felt someone run past me.” It had been a light touch, a stir of the air, then nothing.
Kellan looked around the room. “Did you do a thorough search of the premises when you got here?”
Why was he using his lawyer voice on her? She’d heard him use that quiet tone on many a skittish witness. “I checked a couple of rooms, but it was getting late and I was too tired to look everywhere. I focused on the office and master bedroom since I’m using them.”
“What is this?” Eric picked up Sir, frowning. “Is this one of those puppies from the wedding?”
She grabbed her dog and held him close, crooning, “Don’t you mind him.”
“It’s possible you’ve had squatters here, Belle,” Kellan pronounced. “This place has been abandoned for months, right?”
“Yeah. I thought of that.” She winced. Tate would remember that she’d inherited the house. They’d done their research—fast.
“We’ll search every room before we go to bed, open every door and every closet. Tomorrow morning, we’ll improve the security. We’ll make a comprehensive list of everything that needs attention and break it out.”
Kellan was in charge. It should have annoyed her that he thought he could just walk into her house and take over, but his authoritative voice calmed more than irritated her. Still, she couldn’t let them stay here.
“Are you okay, Belle?” Tate asked, inching close again.
Was she? She’d been so terrified before they’d arrived. The door banged again and she jumped. Yes, that had been the sound. God, what was she doing? She pulled away from Tate. She’d had a bad dream and convinced herself she was hearing things that weren’t there. The house was old and in need of repair. Exhaustion still weighed on her. She needed to turn on some white noise and go back to sleep.
After she figured out why they were standing in the middle of her kitchen at midnight. “What are you guys doing here? You were supposed to have flown back to Chicago already.”
Eric shook his head as he walked back to the front door. “You were supposed to be on that flight, too, Belle.”
“I canceled my reservation, but not yours.”
They eyed her as she spoke. She wished again that she’d packed a robe. Though the nightshirt covered the essentials, she wasn’t wearing a bra. She worried that her nipples would give away how glad she was to see them.
“We’ll also have to replace the screen and the door,” Eric said, walking back in.
“What?” She better not have heard that right. “That door looked like an original part of the house.”
“Now it’s kindling.” Eric shrugged.
Tate frowned sheepishly. “Sorry. Once I heard you cry out, I didn’t think about anything but getting to you. I’m really sorry about the door, but I was completely justified in breaking it down. Not only was that madam who lived two blocks away murdered just yesterday, but look at the overall murder rate in New Orleans. I probably should have done a quick assessment of the physics of busting that old slab of wood down. My shoulder really hurts. And then you clocked me with the granny cane.”
“He hit that freaking door like a linebacker,” Kellan agreed. “We should be glad there wasn’t a glass screen in front or we’d be stitching him up. You know, a well-placed kick might have worked just as well, man. I’m also pretty good at picking a lock.”
If she let them, they would devolve into an argument about how they should have broken into her house. “I quit, guys. Didn’t Sequoia tell you?”
All three men zipped their gazes her way now, wearing scowls ranging from unhappy to forbidding.
“You quit to the intern. Does that seem like an adult way to handle this situation?” Kellan had dropped the lawyer tone and now spoke in pure, grade-A Dom voice.
She so had a way to address that concern. “The last time I saw you, you and Tate were fighting like a couple of school kids, so don’t you dare accuse me of being unprofessional.”
Eric shrugged out of his jacket. “That was sex, Belle. There’s nothing professional about sex.”
“Damn straight. And I want to know where the guy is,” Kell said, his voice turning deeper, darker. “Why isn’t your ‘friend’ here defending you.”
“Who are you talking about?” She set Sir back down and he did a quick sniff of all three men.
“Kinley said you left with someone you called Sir,” Tate said. “But you were just being polite, right? You’re a very well-mannered woman. You wouldn’t have just met some random man and run off with him. I mean, if you waited twenty-six years to have sex, you’re probably not going to copulate with a stranger.”
“Tate, you’re not helping the situation,” Kellan said.
Oh, her BFF was such an awesome bitch. Kinley had told them she’d run off with Sir without mentioning that Belle had slapped that name on her new dog. She had to hold in a little giggle.
Sir scampered around their ankles as Belle did her best to look innocent. “Of course I’m polite.”
Tate winced as he moved his sore arm. “I simply pointed out that she’s picky. Aren’t you, Belle? That’s not a bad thing.”
“I’ll get you some ice to put on that.” She did feel bad about hurting Tate. She hadn’t exactly held back. “If I have any.”
She practically ran to the old fridge around the corner in the kitchen when the truth hit her. Her former bosses and almost lovers were here. All three of them. She wasn’t sure what to do about it. On the one hand, she’d severed ties with them. None of the reasons why had changed. Except…despite the house being locked up, Belle had still felt something brush past her. Surely the house wasn’t really haunted.
She found a freezer bag in the dusty pantry and dumped some of the cubes from the trays to make a quick ice pack as she contemplated what to do. Let them stay…or make them go.
Tate stood in the doorway of the pantry, his face a weary mask. “Don’t throw us out, baby.”
Well, she’d never said they were stupid. They’d been smart enough to send in the one she couldn’t turn away. Tate had always held a soft spot in her heart. He was awkward and a little weird and she adored that part of him. He was unlike anyone else.
“Here, put this on your shoulder.”
He took the baggie out of her hand. “I won’t sleep tonight unless I know you’re safe. Please let us stay.”
His dark, soulful eyes searched her face hopefully. Damn, the man was hot and there was something so earnest and sexy about the way he asked. It wasn’t Tate’s instinct to be polite. He was more likely to give a PowerPoint presentation about why he was right. He was thinking their interaction through, being careful with her. She found something about that so sweet.
Did she really want to stay here alone tonight? Sir bounced into the tight space, skidding to a stop at Tate’s feet. If they left, she would be alone with an overly hyper puppy. “You can stay the night. I need someone to fix the door.”
He nodded, looking so relieved. “I’ll get it done in the morning. Kellan said he’d secure it for the night, and Eric is going to walk through the house once more. We’ll make sure you’re safe.”
From everything but them. “Thanks.”
“And we’ll talk in the morning. Belle, you can’t just run away from us. Leaving without a word wasn’t fair.”
She could still feel how vulnerable she’d been standing there naked while they debated the merits of her virginity. “Humiliating me wasn’t fair.”
Tate started to pace, a familiar habit but one that spoke of his frustration. “I didn’t humiliate you. I was happy about your…news. A little surprised, but happy. I would have been gentler if I’d known. I’ve never slept with a virgin before, Belle. I should have studied how to do it properly. I’m sure I could find a book or two that explains how to make it as pleasant as possible. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m…well, I have a large penis.”