Page 78 of Beautiful Desire
“Oh yeah?” A grin spreads across my face. “I got some sausage for you, dipshit.
His scowl deepens as he glances over at me, but I don’t miss the slight twitch of his lip as he says, “No thanks, Georgia’s the only stepbrother fucker in this family.”
“Graham, what the fuck?” Georgia hisses, at the same time my mom says, “Okay, boys, knock it off!”
“Aunt Georgie, you can’t say that while you’re holding the baby,” Blakely scolds from the children’s table in the dining room.
“Yeah, Georgie,” I tease, filling up a plate for her and one for me. “No swearing in front of the baby.”
Glaring at me first, Georgia then looks at Blakely. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
It’s been a couple of weeks since Georgia and I told the rest of our family about our relationship. Things were a little awkward at first, mostly with my mom and stepdad. She said they had their suspicions, from that little drop-in of theirs a while back, but she still looked equal parts scandalized and confused, like she couldn’t wrap her mind aroundhowit happened in the first place. Aside from that initial time I told my dad I was in love with Georgia, he hasn’t brought it up again, which I figured would be how it went. He’s not one to talk about feelings. Thankfully, nobody was disapproving. Graham has enjoyed giving us shit about it, though, but that’s not surprising, given how he’s never been my biggest fan. My mom looks a little flustered every time it’s brought up, but I’m sure that’ll lessen with time.
“Fletcher, what’s the timeline for your new office?” Everett asks as I sit beside Georgia.
“Shouldn’t be long,” I say. “Conway and his guys are almost finished with the renovation, and I’m starting the first round ofinterviews this week. We should be up and running before the end of July.”
I’m more than a little eager to hire a solid team and hit the ground running. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect when my father agreed to this. Was he going to micromanage me? Question me every step of the way? Insert himself into everything? And surprisingly enough, he hasn’t done any of that. In fact, he’s let me fully take the reins. That’s not to say it isn’t driving him nuts taking the back seat on this, but he seems to at least be trying, and that’s all I can ask for.
Thinking back to where I was at the end of the first semester this year. I was completely fed up, bitter toward the idea of school, and I was pissed off with my dad for doing what he did. Every single part of me believed he wanted to see me fail, but now that I’m on the other side, I understand why he did it. Do I think he necessarily went about it the right way? No, not really. There were a lot of areas in my life where my father could’ve handled things differently, could’ve treated me better, could’ve given be a little more guidance instead of letting me figure it all out myself, then getting angry with me when I fucked up.
Regardless ofhowI got here, I made it.
And I owe so much of this to Georgia. Even when she couldn’t stand me, she still believed in me. If it weren’t for her support and help, I’m positive I wouldn’t be where I’m at right now. Hell, I probably would’ve had to re-do the year. As I glance around the room—to Georgia, to all of our family—I can’t help but owe a little bit of it to my father too. Had he not sent me here, and had he not basically forced Georgia into helping me, I wouldn’t be sitting here, crazy in love with Georgia, and closer to this side of my family than I’ve ever been.
It’s crazy to think how a teenage crush on my much older stepsister turned intothis. I take her hand in mine as she tellsa story to her dad, and all I can think about is how one day I’m going to marry this woman.
One day, I will get down on one knee, with a ring made just for her, and ask her to be my wife.
One day, I will watch her walk down the aisle at the wedding of her dreams, with her dad on her arm, and I will fail miserably at holding it together, because the idea alone of Georgia in a wedding dress is enough to make me forget how to breathe.
One day, I will tell her how much I love her in front of all our friends and family, and promise to continue loving her for the rest of our lives, then seal that promise with a kiss and spend the rest of the night dancing with her.
And one day, when we’re gray and old, I’ll sit beside her on a porch swing on one warm Sunday afternoon, and we’ll look back on our life together, and even though I can’t picture ever loving her more than I do right now, I know I will.
Georgia Astor was once just a beautiful desire, something I never saw myself having, but now she’s a beautiful life I can’t wait to continue living.
EPILOGUE
Georgia, Six Months Later
Lord have mercy, the way those slacks fit around his ass and thighs should be illegal.
“Ope, careful, you’re making quite the mess all over the floor,” Hazel murmurs in my ear as she comes up beside me.
Dragging my gaze away from my sexy-as-sin man on the sidewalk, I look down, then over at Hazel. “What are you talking about?”
“The drool dripping out of your mouth,” she teases, a smirk tugging on her lips. “I still don’t understand how I never picked up on you two before, because now that I know, it’ssoobvious.”
I snort and gesture outside. “Well, I mean, look at him! He’s sex on a stick in an Armani suit.”
Glancing outside, Hazel huffs a moment later. “You’re not wrong.”
Fletcher’s standing in front of the bookstore, talking to a man in an equally expensive looking suit—I’m assuming a client, because he’s nobody I recognize—with a pair of dark sunglasses shading his eyes and his hand stuffed into his pocket while heuses the other to animatedly explain something to this guy. The mullet/mustache combo he’s rocking lately should make him look like a tool…but it doesn’t.
Okay, it probably does, but it sure as hell does something for me.
Sensing we’re watching him, Fletcher glances in our direction, a cocky grin spreading across his face when he catches us gawking. Giving us a nod and a two-finger wave, he brings his attention back to the man in front of him, and then a minute later, pats him on the shoulder before sauntering inside the store. Shoving the sunglasses on top of his head, Fletcher looks from Hazel to me.
