Page 9 of Beautiful Desire
“I still don’t understand why he had to move here in the first place,” Charley says before finishing off the wine in her glass. “What makes his dad think he’ll behave any differently here than he did in Charleston?”
“I don’t believe for a second he will,” I reply, tossing back the rest of mine too. She takes the empty glass from me, along with hers, and pads into the kitchen to refill them. “He’ll be twenty-five next year; if he’s not responsible enough to manage his own life without his daddy intervening now, then I fear there’s no hope for him. Period. And clearly, all that money has gone to Alden’s head, feeding his delusions, if he thinks the solution isme. Talk about out of touch with reality.”
“Wellll,” Grace chimes in, a mix between a smile and a wince on her face. “Playing devil’s advocate here, I can sort of see his train of thought when it comes to you.”
“How exactly is that?” I ask, huffing out an amused chuckle.
“Oh, please. You know you have the type of personality that demands attention and respect. If anybody in our family has what it takes to whip someone as entitled and spoiled as Fletcher into shape, it’s you, my sweet, slightly intimidating sister.” Grace giggles before she adds, “And if I had to guess, Alden knew exactly what he was doing when he purchased that building.”
My brows pinch as I stare at my sister. “What, like he purchased it and threatened to tear it downon purpose? That seems like a bit of a stretch, Grace.”
Rolling her eyes, she snorts. “Okay, well, when you put it that way, it sounds a little silly. But at the very least, he had to know you’d fight for it once you found out it was being torn down, and maybe that was his hope all along.” She shrugs, a slight smile curling one corner of her mouth. “I’m just saying, he sure pulled that little deal out of his hat awfully quick once you burst into his office unannounced and demanded he talk to you.”
“I mean, maybe, but?—”
The words die on my tongue at the sound of the front door opening, pulling our attention in that direction as Fletcher strolls into the house. Glancing our way and spotting us looking at him, he throws his arm above his head, fingers curled into a peace sign, and flashes us a cocky smirk before he says, “Taking a quick shower,” then disappears into the bathroom.
Grinding down on my molars, I breathe harshly through my nose before bringing my gaze to my sisters. “I don’t know how anybody expects me to live with…that.” Thinking about the way he looked standing in the hallway just now has me rolling my eyes. “I mean, just look at him!”
“Oh, we definitely saw,” Charley murmurs under her breath beside me, with a small chuckle, and when my head snaps in her direction, gaze meeting hers, she holds up her hands innocently. “Sorry, I know you’re pissed about the situation, and you have every right to be, butcome on, Georgia. That man is fine as hell. Even if you hate him, you can’t deny that.”
Eyes narrowed and nose scrunched up, I say, “Um, yes, I can, because Fletcher isnotattractive. Entitled, smug, rich, and brat are adjectives I would use to describe him, but not attractive.”
Charley arches an amused brow, her lips curled into a grin. “Okay, but if he wasn’t family, and you didn’t know him from Adam, and you saw him out in public, you’d still say that?”
Thinking back to him standing in my hallway a moment ago, body glistening with sweat, wearing a pair of black athletic shorts that are somehow even shorter than the ones he had on earlier, a ripped white Nike tee that comes to the top of his navel, revealing his overly carved abs and his happy trail, and a black hat flipped around on his head, with that smug grin on his face, Fletcher is the epitome of a douchey gym-bro, who definitely thinks he’s God's gift to women. Yet, annoyingly, I can see her point.
“Fine,” I concede with an eye roll. “Objectively speaking, Fletcher is a conventionally attractive man, but looks are all that he has going for him.” With a snort, I add, “And I’d hardly consider him family.”
“It’s been years, Georgie.” Grace chuckles. “Of course, he’s family. You’re almost as bad as Graham.”
“I’dhardlycompare the two.” I scoff. GrahamhatesFletcher, but I think his issues with him stem more from the fact that he and Grace still lived at home when Denise and Fletcher came in the picture. Graham has always been the baby of the family—having been born a whole few minutes after Grace—andthe only guy, besides our dad, so it quickly became some sort of weird testosterone-fueled pissing contest. Between that and how much of a disrespectful brat Fletcher was as a kid and teenager, my brother has never been shy about his distaste. “Graham straight up can’t stand the guy, and that’s why he refuses to acknowledge the familial ties. Sure, I don’t really care for him, and I certainly don’t love being blackmailed into looking after him and letting him live with me, but that’s not why I don’t consider him family.”
“Then why?” Charley asks curiously.
“By the time my dad married his mom, I was already well into my twenties and away at college,andhe never lived here anyway, so the only times we were ever around each other was when he visited his mom during summer breaks. Even then, I’m fifteen years older than him; it’s not like we had much in common anyway. We never formed any sort of connection or bond or anything. So no, I wouldn’t consider him my family. Family is about more than a piece of paper.”
“You consider Denise family,” Grace points out. “And by your piece-of-paper logic, she wouldn’t be. How’s it any different?”
“It’s way different,” I mutter. “Denise and I built and nurtured a solid relationship in the years she’s been with our dad, and I know you get that, because you have too. Both of you.” I gesture between her and Gemma. “Not to mention, she was there for me during one of my darkest times. So yes, I consider her family, but only because she’s always felt like a bonus mom to me, not just a relationship forged from a document that was notarized and filed with the courts.”
“I’m calling it now,” Grace quips. “With him living here, you’re about to become Graham two-point-oh.”
Gemma giggles. “Can definitely see that.”
“I don’t know. I think I’m with Alden on this one,” Charley chimes in. “I wanna see her go all bossy and scary on his ass. Really teach him some manners. Fierce, dominating Georgia will always be the sexiest in my book.” She fans herself, tossing me a wink as I glower at her, my lip twitching with a smile I’m trying to hide.
“Well, that’s my vote,” Gemma says, an amused smirk on her face.
“Oh, absolutely my vote too,” Grace adds, clapping her hands. “It’s been a hot minute since we’ve seen Domme Georgia in action.”
“All right, enough.” I bite back a laugh. The four of us have always been close enough that we shareeverything—sexual preferences and kinks, included—and it’s no secret I enjoy having most of the control in the bedroom, unlike the three of them. Without fail, Charley always salivates when I tell them stories about my hookups. Which, admittedly, ithasbeen a while since I’ve indulged in some naughty fun, but none of that applies here. “Domme Georgia isnota thing, and even if it was, I wouldn’t domme my stepbrother. I think y’all are reading too many books from my store.”
“Oh, but a second ago, he wasn’t family,” Grace drawls, flashing me her sweet and perfected angelic smile, eliciting a laugh from Gemma and Charley. “And besides, who saidanythingabout making it sexual? Maybeyou’rethe one reading too many books, if that’s where your mind went, my dear sister.”
Giving her the finger, we all burst into laughter for a moment before the conversation shifts to Grace and the romantic getaway to New York she just took. My chest warms, and I can’t keep the smile off my face, hearing her detail everything from the trip. Grace and Conway, her new man, have quite the tumultuous history, but this trip was his grand way of getting the girl. Going from not being able to stand the guy to now being in love with him, my little sister is glowing, and I love that for her. All she’s ever wanted is to find her soulmate and be loved and treated like a princess. She’s a true romantic, unlike me.
Grace and I have both experienced heartbreak. The only difference is, she has always bravely worn her heart on her sleeve, regardless of the trauma, while I’ve kept mine locked up in an impenetrable cage with no access to the key. I don’t believe in soulmates, and to be honest, I don’t think I even really believe intrue love. At least not like we see in books or movies. Putting all my trust in somebody else, giving them my entire heart, knowing it’s only a matter of time before they use mylove against me to shatter me to pieces, sounds foolish and the furthest thing from enjoyable. Sure, that may make me cynical or jaded, but at least nobody could ever call me naive.
