Page 55 of Ruthless Beasts

“I’m just being cautious.” At the landing, we turned left. “We have this whole upstairs we hardly use. But if it’s okay, I’m thinking of moving our suites up here. There is a room that connects to another. It would work perfectly for your personal sitting room. Especially when the baby is up in the middle of the night.”

While I liked the idea, my room was adequate. I didn’t want to put them through trouble when I was okay where I was at. “My room is fine.”

“Belle.” His voice was hard, though it held no threat. “I was serious when I said I wanted you in my bed. If it helps, I can move the others up here too. Maybe give Max and Drew the rooms downstairs, since they are always here, anyway.” Move the others upstairs, too? My stomach tightened at the implication. I’d need them upstairs if they were sharing me. Without realizing it, I squeezed his hand and his head turned to look at me. “Regardless of what you pick.”

What I picked? How the hell am I supposed to pick when there is so much pressure with the decision? Would I hurt someone’s feelings in the process? Sure, I’ve read it in books, but I never thought I’d live it as a reality. Could I handle a reality like that? Each of them is so manly, large, looming and yeah, right now I was rarely in a room with them all at once. But a three-way relationship with them could change that. How would it feel then?

Maybe I should embrace it. My life is already a complicated mess. What’s one more complication?

Adam gripped a doorknob, stopping to look at me. “I think you’re thinking too hard about it. We’re moving up here, Belle. You and me. Focus on that and the rest will come naturally. Or it won’t. It’s that simple.”

“You’re one to talk,” I said, then swallowed hard, because I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

He wasn’t mad; instead his eyes sparkled with amusement, which softened the rough lines of his scarred cheek. “You’re right. Maybe I should take my own advice. Come on, close your eyes and no peeking.”

I reluctantly closed my eyes, nervous about what lay on the other side of that door. But I trusted him enough to know it wouldn’t hurt me. He didn’t let go of my hand as he pushed open the door. The hinges made the faintest of squeaks before he stepped forward, taking me with him. He walked me forward, probably ten steps into the room before he stopped.

“We’ve been working on this for some time. Ever since we learned you enjoyed reading. Open your eyes.” His voice held a note of excitement, and the feeling was contagious, tickling my nerves and making my eyes spring open.

A gasp escaped my lips as I took the room in, not missing the faces of the men who probably spent hours working on it. I turned slowly, taking in the old books, mixed with new. Floor to ceiling, there were shelves everywhere. Some were only accessible by a moving ladder. I looked up, taking in the high ceilings, amazed that they pulled this off.

“It’s…“ I had no words. I was literally speechless. Finally, after a long pause, I got out, “The greatest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You like it? Really?” Adam stood next to me, looking the closest thing to nervous that a billionaire mob boss could. “We’ve always had this place, mostly filled with books that wouldn’t interest you. We moved them up toward the ceiling, so you shouldn’t have to use the ladder. Unless you want to, of course, just make sure we’re around. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“We had tons of books delivered for you.” Mercer was beaming. He reached forward, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the shelf. “Just what you like.”

Just what I liked was right. There were shelves full of romance books. Dark, romcom, mystery; they had every romance book covering an array of popular authors. “You sure did.”

Mercer picked up a book and thrust it forward. “I look better naked than him.” He shrugged. “In case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Oh.” Silence stretched for an awkward moment before he spoke again. “Well, if there is anything else you want, just let us, or Adam’s secretary, know. She picked these all out.”

“Are these the boxes that have been arriving for days?” I finally asked as I tilted my head back, itching to reach up and run my fingers over the spines. I glanced at my husband, feeling something I couldn’t quite figure out. It wasn’t love. I didn’t know him enough to love him. Affection maybe? Without a word, he nodded his answer. “I love it.”

“It’s yours. Everything in it, every book, every inch of this room. It’s yours now.”

“We bought a reading chair,” Ace added in, feeling left out from where he stood off to the side, away from us. “If you don’t like it, we’ll get something else. We- we didn’t know what you’d like.”

My eyes fell on the plush grey chair and love seat situated with a side table between them off to the corner. On the side table, there was a reading light, and folded up on the love seat was the softest looking throw I’ve ever seen.

“It’s perfect,” I whispered. “All of it.”

This place.

These books.

Them.

“Everything is absolutely perfect,” I repeated. “Perfect.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

MERCER

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