Page 57 of Beautiful Desire
“Pretend I’m not here,” Fletcher chimes in as he shoves past her into the house. “I’ll be in the kitchen, minding my own damn business, if you need me.”
She scoffs. “He has no freaking manners.”
“Grace, what’s going on?”
Bringing her gaze back to mine, my sister shifts between her feet, and she almost looks nervous. “Come in,” she murmurs, stepping to the side. “We can go out on the back porch with Gemma.”
A million things race through my mind as I follow her out there. Is the bakery in trouble? Money problems? Is she sick? Are the kids sick?
Jesus Christ,I’mgoing to be sick if I don’t find out what this is about.
Gemma’s already out here when we walk out, and she hands us a glass of wine as we all sit down.
“Please tell me nobody is dying,” I blurt out, my heart racing. I’m not one to jump to conclusions, but I have nothing to go off of.
“What?” she hisses. “No, Georgia, nobody is dying. Why would you say that?”
“Because you’re being fucking weird!” I snap. “What the hell is going on?”
“I’m being weird, because this is kind of an uncomfortable thing to talk about, and I don’t want you to feel like we’re not in your corner, because we are. We’re always in your corner, Georgia.”
My brows pinch. “I know that, Grace. One of you just spit it out already, my god! I’m going to have a damn heart attack.”
Grace heaves a sigh, takes a huge gulp of her wine, then says, “Okay, you know how the side of the bakery has been graffitied a couple times over the last few months?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it happened again this week, and I was bitching to Gemma about it when she stopped by for lunch this afternoon because I had to cover up the graffitiagainlast night.Gemma asked if I saw anything on the cameras I have outside the bakery, and I hadnotbecause—go me—I completely forgot they were even there.”
“Okay…”Where the fuck is she going with this?“Did you find anything?”
“We went back a few weeks, and um, well…we certainly foundsomething,” Grace squeaks, and as her cheeks darken and she glances over at Gemma, realization hits me in the chest, knocking the wind right out of me.
No.
This cannot be going where I think it’s going.
“What did you see?” I ask, already knowing the answer, but praying I’m wrong.
Grace looks exactly how I feel, like she wants to rewind and never finish this conversation. Her face is a dozen shades of red as we stare each other down. “Georgia, did you… Are you…”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Gemma mutters. “Georg, did you and Fletcher have sex against the side of the bakery the night we all went out?”
As soon as the words leave her mouth, movement catches in my periphery, and all three of us look in that direction at the same time, finding a wide-eyed, frozen Fletcher standing in the doorway. My hand comes up, covering my mouth, and I have never wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole more than I do right now.
“Oh, um…” Fletcher’s gaze bounces between us, his face nearly as red as Grace’s. “Uh, I’ll just…go,” he mumbles, hiking his thumb over his shoulder before he nods and breathes out an awkward laugh. “Yeah, I’m gonna head home.” Not waiting for a response from any of us, Fletcher turns and heads back into the house, where I’m sure he hightails it out the front door.
My hand still covering my mouth, I turn my gaze back to my sisters, nausea churning in my gut as I ask, “How much did you guys see?”
“I mean, we saw enough to guess where it was headed,” Grace offers. “But we didn’t watch you have sex, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“Oh, god…” Yeah, I’m going to be sick.
“So, you did?” she asks. “Have sex with him? Our stepbrother. Right outside my bakery. In the middle of Main Street.”
“Oh my god, Grace, stop!” I blurt out, my face in my hands. “Yes, okay! But I can explain!”
Gemma barks a laugh, startling me, and when I look up at her, she slaps a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, the words muffled. “I don’t mean to laugh, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Georgia look so mortified before.”
