Chapter 19
Clara
We gathered at my parents' house for dinner. Rowan and Beck planned to present the brewery plan to everyone. I was nervous because I was supposed to pretend that I wasn't intimately involved with Beck, and I wasn't sure how to respond to Rowan's plans without appearing to be biased.
I was privy to the process as it happened, and I knew how passionate Beck and Rowan were about it.
I wanted to see Rowan live his dream and the abandoned building renovated.
I could envision the building in my mind, and families playing outside on the grass, kids eating pizza while their parents sampled the brews.
I'd done some research of my own and seen how these places became a destination for couples and families in the evenings.
The more I thought about it, the more I knew this would be good for our family and the businesses.
But they'd never asked for my opinion. Would Malcolm take over the meeting and shoot it down?
The arm around my waist tightened. "Why are you awake so early?"
"I'm worried about tonight," I said, turning so that we were facing each other.
His arm was still propped over my hip, and his eyes were heavy with sleep. I'd woken him up with my worrying.
Beck's limbs were loose and his expression relaxed. "If I have anything to say about it, Rowan's brewery will open. The question is whether it will be on Hart property or somewhere else."
"What do you mean?"
"If the family doesn't agree to allow Rowan to renovate the existing structure and open the business on Hart property, he'll find another location that will work."
"I thought he wanted to open something that was part of the family business on our property."
"This is his dream. If he can't do it, then he's going to have to find another way to make it happen."
"I'm sure my family will see how important it is to him and support him."
He raised a brow. "Did they listen to you when you talked about your dreams?"
I huffed out a breath. "That's different. I didn't really know what I wanted, other than to be part of the family business. And I still am, just not on the property."
"Your family's vision took over everything else. If you wanted to be involved, it wasn't even a possibility. Do you think it's fair that Rowan would just give up something that he's passionate about?"
"I guess I thought he could sell his brews to another restaurant."
"That's a long shot if you don't already have a brand that's built and proven. The easiest way to do that is to start your own brewery. Rowan was on the right track with that. He still needs the equipment to produce large quanities."
"I can't believe that Malcolm would hurt our brother." Would he tell Rowan that he couldn't open the brewery on Hart land?
"I think Rowan does. That's why he's worked so hard at the brews and getting everything ready before he talks to Malcolm."
"I guess I thought that Malcolm would be for it because he called you in and asked for your advice."
He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "Maybe he was hoping I'd say it was too risky of an idea. But Malcolm doesn't know me that well apparently because this is the kind of project that I enjoy."
I propped myself up on my elbow. "You think he brought you on because he wanted you to say no?"
"Then he wouldn't be the one shutting down his brother's dream." He kept his gaze on the ceiling.
I plopped onto my back. "That's quite the accusation."
"It's a hunch. Not an accusation." His voice was low and rumbly from sleep.
"I hoped my family would support Rowan. Do they see how important this is to him?"
He rolled so that he was propped on one elbow. "Did they see how important it was for you to work on the property?"
That was an uncomfortable truth. "Sometimes I think they lose sight of our individual interests.
It's all about the family business. The inn and now the restaurant.
We're supposed to support the family vision no matter what.
And for me, that meant accepting my grandmother's shop as my responsibility. "
"If you didn't want to work there anymore, you could hire someone to manage it."
I rolled to my side so we were facing each other. "You really think I could have a profitable business and pay someone to manage it?"
"I haven't seen your profit margins, so I don't know. But if it's something you want, I can help you achieve that goal. We'd build the business until it can support more staff. And then you can do whatever you want."
I stacked my hands under my cheek. "I don't even know what that is."
"You could take some time off. Finish cleaning out your house and think about whether you want to sell it."
I frowned. "Why would I sell?"
"It would give you the money to travel, to do whatever you wanted with the business. You're sitting on your inheritance. It's yours to do with whatever you want."
"My parents would be so upset if I sold the house." I never even thought about selling it.
"What business is it of theirs? Your grandmother gave it to you. You really think she thought you'd keep it the same, a shrine to her memory?"
"I have no idea." But hadn't Grandmother always encouraged me to follow my dreams, even if it meant living somewhere else. I couldn't imagine it at the time. I was so enamored with the Hart’s Inn and our property.
"Your grandmother wouldn't want you to step into her life and live it the way she had. She'd want you to live your dreams. That's what would make her happy, and if she could help you do it, that would be even better."
"I never thought about it like that. But Mom would want me to keep the place as is."
"If your grandmother wanted that, she would have given the house to your mother. Instead, she gave it to you, knowing that you'd do big things with your life."
"How can you possibly know that?" My heart was fluttering dangerously.
He brushed a strand of hair off my forehead. "I'm right, aren't I?"
I licked my dry lips. "Maybe."
"Your grandmother was the only one who saw you, who knew what you wanted. You said yourself; you had a special relationship with her. And it's why she gave you the house. It was never meant to be an albatross around your neck. She wanted to give you freedom."
Had I been wrong this entire time? Had I misread the situation because I'd listened to what my mother wanted?
I was stuck, living the same life my grandmother had.
Was that why I was feeling so discontent?
I'd thought I needed something exciting in my life, like this secret relationship with Beck.
But it was so much more than that. I'd been living a life that someone else thought I should. It made me feel really uncomfortable.
"Maybe I shouldn't go to the meeting tonight.
I feel weird about everything." I was upset about my family, but I didn't think they even realized what they'd done.
That they'd stifled my desires over the years so that my mom could feel good about her mother's legacy continuing through me. But what if I didn't even want that?
"I didn't mean to cause trouble. I just want you to be happy. And maybe I can see it clearly because I'm an outsider to the situation."
"I needed to hear it."
He moved closer. "I have time before I need to meet with Rowan to go over the presentation."
"You're taking this seriously."
"Normally, I wouldn't be as involved, but this is personal for me. I'm invested in the project. I want to see it become reality. But right now, I'd much prefer getting lost in you."
"I can be distracted." I didn't want to think about what he'd just said. But I knew I'd have to, later when he wasn't looking at me as if he wanted to devour me.
He touched my cheek, kissing me as if we wouldn't get another chance to do this, and maybe we wouldn't. Our time was quickly running out. If he was determined to work with Rowan, I wasn't sure we'd ever have a chance to be anything more. And he didn't want that anyway.
He shoved the sheet down, baring my body, and sucked one nipple into his mouth.
I gasped as desire shot through my body. I wanted to forget about the meeting, my family and the million expectations.
This thing with Beck was an act of rebellion against my family. But they didn't even know what was happening. A realization came over me. We'd have to tell them about us, or we'd have to break things off and pretend nothing ever happened. I knew what he wanted; I just had to get used to the idea.
He moved down my body, and my legs spread wide to accommodate his shoulders. He separated my folds with his fingers and dived in, sucking and licking, making me forget about everything. Why we shouldn't be doing this. That he was leaving soon. That my family would never be okay with this.
I was already upsetting the balance by considering not running the business or living in Gran's house. How could I hurt them by telling them I was sleeping with Malcolm's friend?
"Stop thinking," he said, and I groaned when he sucked hard at my clit. "I'm going to make you forget."
"Yes," I said as I arched my back. I wanted to forget everything but the feel of his hands and mouth on my body.
When I gave over to the sensations, I got lost to the feelings, the intensity. The orgasm built, and I focused on the rising pleasure. But Beck pulled away, wiping his mouth as he moved up my body.
My body was trembling with desire. I was so close.
He grabbed a condom from the nightstand and pulled it on in record time. Then he was inside me, filling me up, reminding me who I was when I was with him. A beautiful, desirable woman who had wants and desires outside of her family.
He began to move, and I was lost to the slide of his cock inside me. He was hitting something deep. I held onto him, hoping it would anchor me in this moment. I felt like I was hanging on by a thread, and I'd fly away at any second.
"Come with me," he growled as he thrust one more time, grinding against my pelvis, and I detonated like he'd pressed a button inside me.
I bit my lip hard, and he rested his weight on mine. The aftershocks went on for a while before he finally pulled back, taking care of the condom and holding me against him.
Today, reality would set in. We had the family meeting, the decision that would make or break Rowan's dreams.
And what about what I wanted? What was my dream? Was it to fulfill my family's or was there something else I wanted?
I couldn't imagine selling ornaments forever. I needed something else, a purpose in life, and it wasn't keeping Gran's memory alive. It was making my own way.
I just wasn't sure what that was yet.