Page 10 of Beautiful Mess

“You fucked them both!” I blurt out, so invested in this story.

Shaking her head, my sister says, “Nope. Husband was a cuck.”

Confusion furrows my brow. “A what?”

“A cuckold,” she says, like that explains everything now. I swear, compared to Georgia, you’d think I was a thirty-plus-year-old virgin with how little I know about things like kink. “A man who gets off on watching his wife fuck other people.”

Holy fuck, that’s kind of hot.

“You had sex with her while he watched?” Gemma asks, looking as enthralled in this story as I am. “Was he on the bed beside y’all?”

Georgia chuckles. “No, he sat in the chair in the corner.”

“How very Joe Goldberg of him,” my sister mumbles.

“It was fucking hot,” Georgia adds.

I fan myself dramatically. “Sounds like it. You’re my hero, Georg.”

“Shit, you’re mine too,” Charley says, chuckling.

Watching the rest ofThe Bachelorand having another glass of wine, it’s easy to let go of the annoyance I felt so strongly back at the school. These nights are always my favorite. Getting to hang out with my three favorite people while gossiping and venting is like a second form of therapy for me. Gemma brings her kids, and I do too if they’re not with their dad like they are tonight, and they get to play with their cousins for a few hours. It’s fun for everyone, and I always leave at the end of the evening with my cup overflowing.

I don’t know what I’d do without the three of them.

Even if they give me advice that’s obnoxiously good and I don’t want to follow it.

Four

Conway

Checking the time on my watch, I’ve got two minutes to spare as I step up to the entrance to Bake Me Happy,Grace’s bakery, and the spot she told me to meet her today when she finally tucked her tail between her legs and texted me to set up a time, presumably after the principal shut her down. The sweet, sugary scent of pastries hits me as I walk inside, and I note the handful of occupied tables around the area. This isn’t the first time I’ve been in here, and there always seems to be a steady stream of customers.

If I’m not mistaken, Grace opened this storefront around the time her second was born, and from the looks of it over the years, she’s done pretty well as far as making a name for herself in the community and building her business. I get in line behind the two couples in front of me, scanning behind the counter, not seeing her, but she’s probably in the back. When it’s my turn, a guy who looks like he can’t be older than eighteen smiles up at me warmly, his name tag reading “Storm.”

Odd choice of a name for a human.

“Welcome in, sir,” he says, nauseatingly enthusiastic. “What can I get for you?”

“Actually, I’m here to meet with Grace.”

His brow furrows behind his round, wire-framed glasses. “Are you interviewing for the Assistant Manager position?”

“What? No.” Gesturing vaguely toward the back, I say, “We’re on the PTA together, and she told me to meet her here at”—I check my watch again—“five minutes ago.”

“Oooh.”Stormchuckles. “Grace isn’t back yet, but I can show you to her office where you can wait for her, if you’d like.”

A flash of annoyance flares in my chest. “She isn’t here?”

“Correct. She had some errands to run, but she should be back soon.” Looking mildly uncomfortable, Storm slowly walks toward the swinging door, glancing back at me hesitantly. “Do you, uh, want to wait in her office?”

Heaving a sigh, I clench my molars as I walk t the side of the counter with an opening. “I suppose,” I grumble.

How the hell is it possible that a woman who runs a seemingly successful business can be as unorganized and late as Grace is? I swear to god, she’ll be late to her own funeral. Storm leads me to what looks like a renovated storage closet at best, beaming up at me as he gestures to the small white desk in the center.

“Feel free to sit at her desk. She won’t mind.”Oh, something tells me she willabsolutelymind. “And again, Grace should be back any minute. Want some water or coffee while you wait?”

“I’m fine,” I clip out. “Thank you.”

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