Page 59 of Beautifully Messy
A chair scrapes against the hardwood.
I glance up in time to see James rise abruptly and disappear into the kitchen without a word. Satisfaction twists through me. So. He’s not as indifferent as he pretends.
As dinner winds down, Margaret offers to put Anna to bed, her eyes shining with the kind of tenderness only a grandmother can give. “Let me have some time with this little one. You young people go enjoy yourselves.”
Anna giggles and smooshes her face against Margaret’s neck. Bell comes to check for food.
Gary perks up, pushing back from the table. “Have you guys checked out the new pool table in the basement? Got it delivered last month.”
“Mom, okay if we go up and play our Switches?” Leo glances between his brother and Jules. At breakneck speed, the boys take off, not giving her a chance to reconsider.
That leaves Jules, Tom, Mason, Ivy, James, and me drifting toward the basement.
The space has been transformed. A sleek bar is tucked into the corner, and pendant lights glow over the emerald felt of the new pool table. A high-top table and stools sit near the bar, inviting and casual. My mother-in-law’s touch is everywhere. Pillows are tossed artfully over the leather couches, thick blankets folded across chairs, bold abstract art warming the space.
The guys gravitate to the pool table while Jules, Ivy, and I circle the bar. I close my eyes and try to let my simmering rage settle enough to catch up with Jules and keep her from digging beneath my mask.
“What are you reading these days?” I ask.
"I started a new series. It involves a dominatrix, a priest, a book editor, and a retired French spy,” Jules says, winding a strawberry blonde curl around her finger. She twirls it absentmindedly before flashing a sly smile.
“So your standard beach read?”
Jules’s grin widens. “I mean, it’s erotica. But it’shigh-browerotica.”
“Oh, the best kind,” Ivy jumps in. “Where you feel morally compromisedandsomehow smarter by page three hundred.”
“Do I want to know how the priest fits into the story?” I lean against the bar, resisting the urge to look at the man bending over the pool table wearing jeans that hug his legs in a way that should be illegal. “Wait, don’t tell me. He’s the submissive?”
“I won’t spoil it. But let’s say he spends a lot of time wrestling with his… inner conflict.”
“Inner conflict is such a tasteful way to sayhorny guilt.” Ivy retorts.
And I’m so caught off guard by her joke, a rogue snort erupts—loud, feral, and utterly undignified.
The kind that sends your drink flying and rings throughout the room.
The kind that causes every head to turn and gape at you.
“I’ve never heard that noise come out of you before, Syd.” Jules raises her glass. “But I like it.”
My face burns tomato red, and because I’m not sufficiently embarrassed, I glance at the pool table. Mason looks horrified. Tom grins. James just stares, eyes wide as he lifts his beer and swallows hard.
But damn him and his utterly lovely words:Now I know my goal for the week. To make you laugh like that again.My anger flares, and I look away.
“Are you serious about reading a book like that?” Ivy’s voice drops, her cheeks flushing. Her earlier bravado evaporates. “I mean, I guess I thought youwere joking about it. Doesn’t it make you feel… I don’t know... like you’re doing something you shouldn’t?”
“My dear.” Jules sets down her glass with deliberate care. “I’m ordering you this series right now. There’s nothing wrong with reading erotica. Or sometimes, grabbing your vibrator after a particularly good scene.” Jules’s cackle carries across the room. “And Tom certainly doesn’t mind.”
“What’s happening over there, ladies?” Tom calls. “I’m just over here watching James give us a thorough smackdown.”
Mason’s voice carries. “Come on, James, at least give us a fighting chance.”
“I am. I’m using my non-dominant hand.” The crack of the cue ball echoes.
“Brutal, man,” Tom laughs.
“That’s what happens when you get soft, Mason,” James adds, chalking his cue. “Too much time behind a desk, not enough life.”
