Page 51 of Beautiful Desire (Blossom Beach #3)

Fletcher

A sliver of sunlight peeks in through the small crack in the curtains, the hotel room otherwise dark.

Georgia’s head is resting on my chest while my fingers brush through her hair, and everything about this moment is perfect.

She woke me up a little while ago with her mouth around my cock before climbing on top and riding me.

It was, hands down, the best way I’ve ever been woken up.

I have to meet my dad and Reese in about an hour, so I’m trying to soak this up as much as possible before I have to get out of bed, but there’s a question I have to ask before I go.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” I ask, my chin resting against the top of her head. “About not being able to tell me that you want us to be over? Or were you simply caught up in the moment?”

I don’t miss the way Georgia’s body tenses, and I mentally prepare myself for the worst. But then her muscles relax again, and she softly murmurs, “I meant it.” Three words that have me soaring, followed by the least surprising thing she could say.

“But that doesn’t negate all the very valid reasons I still think it wouldn’t be a good idea. ”

It’s a punch to the gut, even though I expected it.

“Like?” I push.

Pulling back, Georgia rests her hand on my chest as she meets my gaze. “Like the fact that you live here, and I live there. Long-distance relationships never work.”

A smile spreads up my face at her saying “relationship,” and I don’t even try to hide it. “Never is a bit of a stretch, Peach. They can work, if both people put in the effort. Next reason?”

“You starting this new chapter in your career,” she says. “Do you really think you have the time and energy to worry about me, who will be hours away, when you’re about to take on new, huge responsibilities?”

Cupping her face, I stroke my thumb across her cheek. “I think it’s a little unfair that instead of letting me decide what I can handle, you preemptively decide for me. But yes, I know I have the time, because you make time for the people you love.”

Swallowing harshly, Georgia lets out a shaky breath. “Love?” she asks quietly.

“Yes, Peach, I love you. Is that really so hard to believe?”

Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times, and I realize that’s probably not how I should’ve said that for the first time. Leaning in, I press a kiss on her lips.

“I know you’re freaking out inside, but hear what I’m saying. I don’t expect you to say anything back, but just…hear me.”

A small, nervous smile is reflected at me as I go back to caressing her cheek. Georgia leans into my touch, chewing on the inside of her lip for a moment before she asks, “But what if you get in this and decide it’s not what you want? Or not something you can juggle with everything else?”

The emotion in her voice and the vulnerability in the question make my heart squeeze.

“Okay, I need you to understand one thing, Peach. Being with you would never be something I have to juggle . You aren’t a task at work.

Being with you would be an honor. It would be as easy as breathing, and I don’t see myself ever deciding you aren’t what I want.

” Swallowing thickly, I add, “There is always a possibility of that happening in relationships, though. That’s not a reason to shut yourself off from one, especially when it’s what you want.

I am, in no way, discounting what you went through with your ex, but I’m not him.

You deserve to be loved, Georgia, so let me in. Let me love you the way you should be.”

Georgia lets out another shaky breath, bottom lip quivering and eyes misty. I can practically hear her mind racing. “This would be so much easier if you were still a douchebag,” she groans, and I can’t help but chuckle.

My heart races as I say, “Please, just give me a little time. Things are moving behind the scenes, and I think I’ve found a way for us to be together that will feel easier for you.”

The weeks leading up to graduation, I’ve been focused on getting ready for this meeting with my father today, needing to make sure everything is perfect before presenting the idea.

I had to make sure all my ducks were in a row, make sure I thought of everything, from every angle, because he needs to know I’m serious.

I’ve got one chance to pitch this to him, because my father isn’t somebody who goes back on his decision.

Her eyes light up. “What kinds of things?”

“I can’t tell you.” Biting back a grin as she rolls her eyes, I say, “I don’t want to jinx myself, but please, trust me, and don’t give up on me.”

“You realize this is the equivalent of texting somebody that you want to talk later ?” she murmurs. “It’s not very nice, Fletcher.”

Chuckling, I brush my lips against hers. “I know, I’m sorry, Peach.” I climb off the bed, already wishing I could stay here with her. “I gotta get going to that meeting with my dad and Reese.”

“Yeah, I should get ready for brunch.” Lying back down, Georgia stretches as she yawns.

There’s a twinge in my stomach, realizing this will be the last time I see her for at least a couple of weeks.

I’m staying in town to get settled into my new role, and hopefully, get started on this venture I’m about to propose to my father.

Leaning down, I kiss her again, this time for longer.

“Call me when you get home?” I ask as I stand again.

After Georgia nods, I shove my feet in my shoes, and I’m on my way.

I have to stop by my dad’s house to change into something a bit more professional than gray sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Even though the meeting is with my father, I know he’ll be disappointed if I show up in anything less than slacks and a pressed shirt.

A half hour later, I’m sauntering out of the elevator at St. James Properties. It feels weird being here. Almost like I’m out of place. So much of my life has changed in the matter of a single semester; I don’t even feel like the same man anymore, and honestly, I’m proud of that.

I rap my knuckles against the open door, and my father glances up from his computer, glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as he waves me in. “Come in, Son. Reese isn’t here yet. You’re early.”

“I know.” Crossing the room, I sit down in one of the two chairs in front of his desk. “I was hoping to talk to you before we got started.”

“Okay.” He removes his glasses, setting them on the desk next to his keyboard. “Is this in regard to what you sent over last week?”

“It is, sir.” I nod. “But first, I want to thank you.”

My father’s eyebrows furrow. “Thank me for what?”

“For what you did for Georgia all those years ago,” I state plainly. “For loaning her the money to open her bookstore. She told me what happened to her during that time, and how none of it would’ve been possible without your help. So, thank you.”

Sitting back in his chair, he links his fingers together on top of his stomach. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the business plan you drafted, would it?”

Palms sweaty and my heart clear in my throat, I admit something I’ve never said to anybody but Georgia before. “I’m in love with her, Dad.”

He’s quiet in the calculated way people in power often are, but I don’t miss the tightening of his jaw and the way his Adam’s apple bobs. “You’re in love,” he repeats slowly. “With your stepsister?”

“I’m sure this is the last thing you expected me to say, but yes, I do.

I love her. And I already know what you’re going to ask—is this the only reason I want to move forward with the plan I sent you—and the answer is no.

For the sake of honesty and full transparency, I will say, the way I feel about Georgia is what initially made me think of the idea, but the more I researched and fleshed it out, the more confident I am that this will be an excellent move for our company.

I believe in this plan, and I hope you’re able to as well. ”

He eyes me from under his dark, bushy eyebrows, his face unreadable, but before he can respond, a knock sounds from behind me, and as I turn, I watch my buddy waltz in, briefcase in hand.

“Good afternoon, fellas,” Reese drawls, dropping into the chair beside me. “Ready to get started?”

Sliding my gaze back to my father, he clears his throat before saying directly to me, “I was impressed by your initiative and the clear time and effort you put into it. I’d like to hear more and discuss some concerns and questions I have. Let’s pick it back up once we’re done with this.”

My chest squeezes, and it feels like I can breathe for the first time since getting here. “Yes, sir. I look forward to it.” Then, looking to Reese, I nod. “Let’s do this.”

The rest of the meeting goes by without a hitch, and an hour later, I’m officially a co-owner to St. James Properties.

For the first time in my life, I’m not just my father’s son and his employee.

I’m his equal, and it feels so goddamn good.

Reese leans in as he’s packing his things and says quietly enough for only me to hear him, “That text you sent me yesterday, I got you, man.”

Nodding, I murmur a quick, “Thank you,” before he strolls out of the office.

Glancing back at my father, he gestures to the chair again. “Shall we?”

My pulse races as I sit down. “Yes, sir.”

Here goes nothing.