Sweet Little Lies

“Clover can sleep in your king-size bed with you,” Stone told her. The authority in his voice was subtle but unmistakable. ‘That room is Beulah’s.”

Presley inhaled sharply. “Are you fucking her? Is that it? Jasper tossed her out because he caught you with her, didn’t he? I can’t believe you’d do this to me! You’ve never thrown one in my face. All your sluts, even Margot—”

“That will be all, Presley!”

I jumped, startled by his loud command. Presley immediately broke into tears. “You always hurt me. Always. Your mother doesn’t think I’m good enough. That’s it, isn’t it!” she wailed.

“Not the fucking drama. Jesus, save it for your friends. I’m not in the mood for it.” Stone’s voice was still louder than normal and angry. Like a parent talking to a child. “Go wail to Fiona. Drink vodka or some shit. But not in here.”

Presley pointed at me. “And leave you alone with her? To fuck in my house? Your mother would hate her too! She wants you to marry Margot!” The shrill of her voice made me wince as did her accusations.

“I am not fucking Beulah. However, this is my home. If I want to fuck someone here, I will. My mother has never and will never have a say in who I do or don’t fuck. I don’t owe you anything, Presley. You owe me a lot. Remember that and go cool off. Preferably not in this apartment.” Stone turned to me. “I’m going to have some whiskey now. Presley often drives me to drink in short amounts of time. Can I get you anything, or would you rather go hide out in the sanctuary of your room?”

‘That! You say things like that, and it’s mean. Cruel, Stone! Cruel! You act like I mean nothing to you. Just like your father—”

“For the love of God, would you take that yammering and find a friend to punish with it!” He was loud again. Almost shouting.

Presley spun around on her heel and ran out the door in tears. After she slammed the door behind her, he sighed and shook his head as he walked to the bar and took a glass down from the rack beside it.

“Want a drink?” he asked again.

“No, thank you. I think I’ll just go to the room.”

“Don’t blame you.”

I stood there watching him trying to figure out why he was in a relationship with a woman he didn’t seem to care for particularly. He also wasn’t faithful to her and she was aware of that. It wasn’t my business. He’d been nothing but generous to me today. But the hard, cruel man he was flickered there in his eyes while Presley, as annoying and spoiled as she was, had cried.

“Is she okay? Your girlfriend?” I didn’t want to cause a problem with them. He should have reassured her there was nothing going on with us.

He glanced back at me then took a drink of his whiskey. “Presley?”

Of course, Presley. Who else would I be talking about? I didn’t say that though, I simply nodded.

“She’ll be fine. She’s dramatic. It’s her nature and always has been. You’ll get used to it.”

I would get used to her screaming and crying? I doubted it. “She does this a lot?”

He smirked and took a drink. “There are several reasons I was sleeping in Jasper’s pool house. What you witnessed was one of those reasons.”

“Then . . . why do you stay together?” I was pushing it. I needed to shut up. This was not my home and he was letting me stay here.

“That’s a story too convoluted to get into. I’ve not had enough to drink to unload that one. Maybe another time.”

I deserved a more curt response from him for my nosiness, but he’d been kinder in his response.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

He didn’t agree or disagree. Instead, he continued to drink and stare at me with his bored expression. He wanted me to go. After that debacle, I imagined he needed peace and quiet, not me asking a million questions.

“Good night and thank you again,” I said before turning to walk down the hallway toward the room he said was mine.

“You’ll find your things in the closet,” he called out.

“Okay, thank you,” I replied. I’d said thank you a lot. But I didn’t know how else to express my gratitude. If this was a regular bachelor pad I’d offer to clean it. It wasn’t though, the place was immaculate. I’d have to find a way to pay him back for all he’d done for me today.

“And Beulah, Presley is my stepsister.”

I UNDERSTOOD STEPSIBLINGS WEREN’T RELATED by blood, but pondering Presley and Stone together was still disturbing. Did they grown up together in the same house? Because if that was true, their relationship was . . . well . . . gross. Wasn’t it? I couldn’t decide if I was being judgmental or not. Maybe I should be more open-minded. They were obviously in a relationship of some kind. Her angry outburst when she assumed he was sleeping with me led me to believe she was his girlfriend.

If Stone was trying to give me a distraction from my thinking about Jasper being my cousin, and my sister not being my sister but Jasper’s sister, then he had just accomplished it. But only for a moment.

I laid my head back and closed my eyes as I soaked in the large claw-foot tub.

This morning I had woken up in a dream. It was a fantasy that dissolved abruptly when I realized I loved a man I shouldn’t love. I’d had sex with Jasper, my cousin. I guess when I looked at it that way, what I had done was so much worse than Stone and his stepsister. Jasper and my mother were sisters. My stomach turned at the thought.

Just as quickly as I’d been handed happiness, it had been snatched away. And there was Heidi to think about. She’d never know the truth. Even if she did, I wasn’t sure she’d understand. My mother was our mother. I didn’t care who gave birth to my sister. Portia Van Allan may have brought her into this world, but it was my mother who loved her, protected her, taught her, and raised her. Heidi missed Momma, but it didn’t weigh on her every day like it did me. She found happiness in life so easily. I had always envied her that. Being around her made me happy. Even if it was for a short time.

I wouldn’t fight Jasper if he wanted to pay for Heidi’s care. I knew it was his way of helping. After all we’d learned, she was his sister too. Their biological relationship would change things. I couldn’t expect it not to.

Then there was my heart—would it always ache when I thought of Jasper? Could I one day see him and not hope for the impossible?

The ringing of my phone interrupted my thoughts and I sat up to see where I had left it. When it rang again, I turned my head toward the sound to find I’d put it on the vanity. I didn’t want to get out of the tub yet, but it could be Heidi calling. That was the only reason I hadn’t turned my phone off.

Jasper didn’t come find me today. He didn’t come looking for me. I’d left him at his house begging me to forget the truth. When he didn’t even understand the truth himself. I couldn’t forget. My heart may wish I could but my head wouldn’t allow it.

Standing, I grabbed the towel that was on the white and gold stand beside the tub and wrapped it around me. It was even more lush than the towels at the Van Allans. Hurrying over to the vanity I reached for my phone only to see Jasper’s name on the screen. I jerked my hand back as if it were a snake. I couldn’t talk to him. He had thought through Portia’s lie by now and realized things didn’t added up. I wouldn’t be the one to tell him the truth though. Hearing his voice . . . I wasn’t ready. Stone would have to tell Jasper and show him what he’d found.