Her heartbeat pounded in her chest, the remnants of pleasure still running through her veins. She loved this time. She loved the sex, but she also craved the soft time afterward, when she was surrounded by her men.

  Of course she only had one of her men this time, and if he had his way, she would only have him for a brief time.

  Belle had decided that Kellan’s way sucked.

  Between reading the last entry in her grandmother’s journal and looking back at her parents’ miserable choices, she’d realized that nothing was certain—except that not fighting for love would lead to heartache. She’d been looking for proof that these three men would always want to be with her, that they would never leave. She’d demanded that the universe guarantee her happiness before she was willing to try grabbing it herself.

  It was an arrogant thing to ask. No one got guarantees.

  When she’d taken Tate’s hand the night before, she’d finally realized something. Life was an adventure. It was mysterious and could be dangerous. And it was utterly meaningless without them by her side.

  All of them.

  Her grandmother had left her with far more than a haunted house. Instead, she’d left a legacy of words and pictures and the poignant sadness of her regret. Marie Wright had wanted to reach out to her son, but she’d been afraid for years. Then it had been far too late. Clearly, she’d thought she had more time, but the universe had other plans.

  Life didn’t care that she was afraid. Life moved on and it would leave her behind if she didn’t make the choice to fight for her happiness.

  Kellan didn’t know it yet, but she wasn’t letting him go without one hell of a fight.

  With a long sigh, he rolled off her, taking his warmth with him. He sat up and dealt with the condom, tying it off and wrapping it in a tissue before throwing it into the small trash can by the nightstand. There was something wary about the way his back curved, as though he was trying to protect himself from something. From her.

  “Are you going to walk away again?” Belle murmured. She could ask more delicately, she supposed. But he’d asked for her honesty. It was time he repaid the favor.

  He turned back, his eyes hooded. “Why did you do this, Belle? Why send everyone away to be with just me?”

  “I wanted to. I want to spend time alone with each of you. It doesn’t have to be a crazy orgy every time we make love. Sometimes it can just be the two of us. Tate and Eric both get that. You’re the only one who doesn’t.”

  He sighed, but he lay back on the bed, working them both under the covers. “It’s a bad idea. Eric might be fine for now, but Tate won’t like it over time. It’ll make him crazy. Unless you’re planning on keeping this thing casual.”

  Kellan would probably love that, but she’d finally figured out that there was nothing casual about any of this. There was nothing casual about love, especially not the depth that she felt. They wanted her to treat sex with reverence. Well, for her, sex came with love, and her men were going to learn that.

  “Tate is going to be fine once he realizes he’s going to get what he wants. Mostly, I think he’ll come to love New Orleans. We all have our flaws. One of his is a fear of changing his habits. He’s a moody, broody man-child half the time, but I love him anyway. Eric can play the martyr to perfection. He won’t tell anyone what he needs. I love him anyway, too. And you…”

  “Don’t say it.”

  She turned on her side, staring down at him. This was exactly the way to have this conversation, naked and with nothing between them. She needed to touch him, hold him. “Why not? You taught me to be honest. You taught me to take this seriously. I’m serious about this, Kellan. About us.”

  “I thought you were just playing around. I was under the assumption that you didn’t believe a relationship with the three of us could work long term. I rather thought we were on the same page here.”

  “I’m still not sure it will, but how can I know if I don’t try?”

  Looking back, she saw that life hadn’t taught her to try. She’d spent her childhood attempting to please a mother who had shut her out. She’d done everything she could to try to get Mom’s attention after her father had died—for a while. Then she’d quit, resigning herself to loneliness and hurt. Was she willing to spend the rest of her life shutting out anyone who might want her because deep inside she was still that kid whose mother couldn’t love her? She had to leave her childhood behind. Comfort the girl by embracing the woman she’d become.

  And not everyone had abandoned her. Kinley had still stood by her. Her grandmother had remembered her. Her father had left her a life lesson, if she chose to see it. Would he be proud of the woman she’d become or would he be disappointed that she’d closed herself off?

  If she never opened up, maybe she wouldn’t feel pain, but she also wouldn’t feel joy. Belle was rapidly realizing that joy was worth the risk.

  So was love. Kellan had to see that.

  “There are a lot of reasons I believed it couldn’t work, but I was wrong. I thought I wasn’t the woman who could heal you.” She willed him to understand.

  Kellan turned to her with a frown. “Love, it’s not that.”

  “No, it’s not. I realize that now, too. It’s not that I can’t heal the pain from your divorce. It’s that you don’t want to heal. You think you’re safer in your nice little cocoon.”

  He frowned and sat up suddenly. “Cocoon? You make it sound like something pleasant, Annabelle. I assure you, it’s not.”

  A hard edge sharpened his tone, letting her know that she was pushing his boundaries. He’d pushed all of hers, but she’d known he would probably react poorly. Still, she pressed on because this was too important to let go. “I don’t think it’s pleasant at all. I think it’s lonely, but you’ve gotten to a comfortable place. I know because I did the same thing.”

  He huffed, sounding deeply frustrated. “Annabelle, you weren’t wrong to think it couldn’t work. You were just being realistic. Most marriages fail, and they only have two people involved. Putting four people in a relationship, much less any sort of marriage, makes it exponentially more complex.”

  She understood that he was attempting to protect himself, but she had to make Kell see that wouldn’t lead to happiness. “So that means we shouldn’t try? It’s gotten easy for you to not try. I know that’s the way it was for me. After my father died and my mother got lost in her own grief, I decided that I couldn’t win, so I withdrew. That way I couldn’t get hurt anymore. I thought it was better to be numb. It’s not, Kellan.”

  He stood up and grabbed his boxers, shoving his legs into them. “I’ve never been anything but honest with you, Belle. I told you where this is going. I explained what I could give you.”

  The old Belle would have covered up and hidden, accepting that the fight was done. The new Belle could definitely kick the old Belle’s ass.

  She rose on her knees, giving him what she hoped was a spectacular view of her body. She was satisfied when he lost a bit of his normal grace and stumbled while reaching for his slacks. “You never lied to me, Kellan. But I think you’re lying to yourself. I am the woman for you and you know it deep down. If you walk away from me, from this family we could have, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. Do you want to know where this is going for me? What I intend to do?”

  He jerked on his slacks, his face flushed, his every movement a testament to his anger. “Please, tell me, Belle. You seem to know absolutely everything. Enlighten me.”

  She ignored the sarcasm. He wasn’t going to go down easy. She’d always known that, but she also didn’t miss the way his stare found her breasts. And she definitely couldn’t ignore the fact that he was already getting hard again. He had to carefully tuck his cock away.

  “Here’s how it will go, Kellan. I’m going to marry Eric and Tate, and we’re going to live right here. You’ll be more than welcome in my bed for as long as my husbands allow it. They’ll never bar you for the same reason I won’t.”

  A bitter laugh choked from his throat as he picked up his shirt. “And what reason is that? Because you like the D/s play, and I’m the only one whose been fully trained? You think they’ll need me to train them for any length of time? Eric’s already a good Dom. Tate can learn from him.”

  He didn’t understand a thing and that made her soften utterly toward him. “No, they’ll never bar you from our bed because they love you, too.”

  That made him stop. He stared at her, obviously at a loss for words.

  Good thing she had plenty for them both. “I love you, Kellan Kent. I want to marry you and your best friends. But if you choose to hold on to what that terrible woman did to you, if you choose her over us, then I think you’ll come and see us for a while. I think you’ll go back to Chicago, but you’ll visit. We’ll come see you, too, and it could work the way you want it to…until we have babies. And we’re going to have them, Kell. I want kids. I want to raise a crazy family, but I know that the minute I have that first child, you’ll be gone. So I’ll have to choose between you and having babies with the men I love.”

  “I’m not asking you to choose.” The words rasped from his throat.

  “Good, because you would lose, my love. I’m going to choose the future, even if it means putting you in the past. It will hurt like hell and I will love you until the day I die. I will always miss you and I will always wish that you wanted our family as much as we want you to be a part of it.”

  There was a suspicious sheen to his eyes as he stared at her. “That’s not fair, Belle.”

  “Life’s not fair, Kellan. And I’m not going to play fair with you. I’m going to fight dirty because this is the fight of my life. I love you. I’m going to tell you every day, all day long. I’m never going to let you forget it. And if you let that bitch win, if you walk away because you can’t get over what she did to you…well, you should know that I’ll still be here loving you. No woman in the world will ever love you the way I do. And you won’t love anyone else the way you love me.”

  His head shook, seemingly interested in the floor suddenly. “I never said I was in love with you, Belle.”

  “Not aloud. But like I said, I think you’re good at lying to yourself. Come back to bed.”

  Those words seem to jolt him, and he practically ran to the door. “I have to think, Belle. I didn’t want to make this decision yet, but you pushed me. I just… I don’t…” He plowed a hand through his hair. “I’m going out. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

  “Kellan,” she started, lunging closer. She wasn’t sure she could stand to watch him walk away. She needed more time with him.

  “No. You’ve said what you needed to say. Now I need time to figure out what the hell I’m going to do because you’ve put me in a goddamn corner. I don’t need to hear another word right now.” He walked out.

  And Belle was alone. She stared at the door. Logically, she’d known he might get angry and leave, but somehow she hadn’t really expected it to happen. Maybe she’d watched too many romantic movies or believed in too many fairy tales.

  The reality was, she may have just driven him away for good.

  Tears brimmed in her eyes as she climbed from bed. She hadn’t meant to corner him, just let him know that her plans had changed and that she hoped he could be a part of them. Somehow she’d been unable go to Eric and Tate until she talked to Kellan. Her decisions affected him, too. And now, she’d probably ruined everything.

  She forced herself to plod across the floor, dread and anxiety lashing her. She was weary, but resolute. She was going to move toward the future and make the best of it she could.

  She opened the closet door to grab her robe—and she stopped short at the sight inside.

  A small doll swayed from a tiny noose attached to the rod. The doll had pitch black hair and dark buttons for eyes. Someone had sewn it a little outfit that looked suspiciously like something she’d worn a few days ago.

  A chill swept through her as she realized she was looking at a voodoo doll of herself hanging, just like the Peterman girls had.

  Her trouble wasn’t over yet.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Eric hung up the phone and was just reaching for his notes when Kellan stormed by. Frowning, Eric paused and stared for a moment, noting the flushed grimace on Kell’s face.

  Damn it. That couldn’t be good. He’d expected Kellan to take his time with Belle. Hell, he’d half expected to have to pull them off one another when the contractors returned. They’d designated this time for the two of them to be alone and to hopefully work through their issues. So why was Kell walking out?

  Sir trotted in and jumped up on the couch. He was getting used to the mutt. The puppy had two levels of activity: full throttle or dead-ass asleep. Actually, Sir kind of reminded Eric of Tate. Since coming to New Orleans, his brainiac friend was either moody as shit or ridiculously happy.

  Eric definitely preferred ridiculously happy.

  “Hey, what crawled up Kellan’s butt and died?” Tate asked as he walked in carrying two bags from a local electronics store. “I tried to talk to him, and he said he was going to get a drink. It’s barely one o’clock. I thought he was spending the afternoon with Belle.”

  Something had gone very wrong to make Kellan rush out like that. “Maybe we should go check on her.”

  “No need. I’m fine.” Belle stood in the doorway, lips turned down, shoulders slumped. She looked disheveled, delicate, and gutted. She’d thrown a robe on, but there was no way to mistake the sorrow in her eyes.

  Eric’s heart sank. He seriously thought about charging after Kellan and beating some sense into him. Letting Kellan spend alone time with Belle should have softened him up and helped change his very stubborn mind. Instead, it looked as if Kell had managed to break Belle’s heart. Eric bit back a curse. Would Belle toss up her hands and say she was done with them all?

  Mentally, he prepared the argument of a lifetime. He had to make her understand that whether or not Kellan stayed, he and Tate could form an unbreakable bond—if she let them. He intended to stay with her and make her happy. No fucking way was he going back to Chicago alone.

  “Talk to me, baby.”

  “What do you have in the bags?” Belle asked, changing the subject.

  Eric looked at Tate, who appeared just as tense as he felt.

  With a sigh, Tate set the bags down and spoke carefully, as though trying not to upset her. “Just some new computer stuff. You know how I like to play around with all the new toys.”

  She gave him a sad smile. “I do. I thought you should know I found one of my own.”

  Belle dangled something from her hand. A doll formed of plain fabric with a bit of yarn for hair and two dark buttons sewn where the eyes should be. The doll was damn creepy. Whoever had made the thing obviously didn’t believe in the pretty princess toys.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Tate bit out.

  Belle laid it on the desk, then joined Sir on the couch, scratching his belly when he rolled over. “If you think it’s a voodoo doll, then you’re correct.”

  “Your grandmother has voodoo dolls?” Eric frowned. He thought she’d been a psychic.

  “No.” Belle shook her head. “Someone left this hanging in my closet for me. It’s even wearing a replica of the same clothes I had on the other day. But I didn’t see this when I got dressed this morning. Believe me, I would have noticed.”

  Eric stared, anxiety compressing his chest. His previous fear morphed into lava-filled. Someone was playing with them again, trying to frighten his woman away. “Hanging, you say? Like, by the neck?”

  “Yep. From a noose.” Belle looked every bit as pensive as she sounded. “I guess we should call the police again?”

  Eric didn’t see why. They hadn’t done anything the first time, and based on the news, they were still mired in the madam murder case. “Let’s take another look at Captain Ron and Mike because they’ve both been working in your bedroom and bathroom.”

  “And I took the draper up there so she could get a look,” Belle added.

  Eric shook his head. “She wasn’t here when someone wrote the message on your wall. We need to figure out all the people who had access to the house on both instances.”

  “Or I could just install some hidden cameras and catch the fucker in the act.” Tate pulled a teddy bear out of one of the bags.

  “Am I supposed to cuddle with that?” Belle asked.

  Tate started to fiddle with the bear, his fingers moving a switch. He opened his laptop and typed something into it. Less than a minute later, he turned the computer around and Eric saw himself on screen.

  “A nanny cam?” Eric asked.

  Belle peered over his shoulder. As she leaned in, she balanced her hand on his shoulders, and he was relieved she’d come to him for support. “This will be way more helpful than the voodoo doll. Where are we going to put it?”

  Eric knew exactly where he wanted it. He turned when he felt Belle meander away. “This asshole seems to really like the master bedroom. I think we set up in there and watch who goes in and out. This way you can still have the house remodeled without us having to formally check everyone’s backgrounds or kick them out altogether. We can monitor everyone’s activity in your bedroom via our laptops. We’ll know exactly when this sick creep goes in and what he does.”

  “God, I hope it’s Mike so I can kick his ass,” Tate muttered under his breath.

  “You be careful. Both of you.” She sent them stern glances. “I’ll go along with this idea, but only if you promise not to do anything dangerous.”

  Something inside him eased, some kernel of doubt. She wasn’t pushing them away or telling them to leave. The worst seemed to be over. Kellan had been an ass, but Belle wasn’t letting another man affect her relationship with either him or Tate. He wound his arms around her, embracing her, adoring the warmth and feel of her. He loved how comfortable she’d become with his body and the fact that she no longer hesitated to show affection.

  “Promise me,” she demanded softly. “I couldn’t handle it if anything happened to either one of you. Don’t do anything reckless.”