Her Sweetest Mistake (Amelia) novel Chapter 89

His gaze dipped to her lips before he dragged it back up, his body flooded with erotic and inappropriate thoughts. “You know, if I wasn’t so sure your parents were watching us from that window, I’d kiss you right now.”

Cheryl’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink, and she spun away from him quickly, her hands coming up to cover her face. He chuckled but didn’t push further, knowing there would be time for that. Time when they weren’t under watchful, disapproving eyes.

He opened his car door, sliding inside, and with one last glance at her, he drove away. Cheryl stayed on the porch, watching his car disappear down the street, her smile lingering even as she walked back inside.

That night, the house was anything but peaceful.

Her parents argued for hours. Not about the debt. Not about the crumbling business. But about her.

“She’s going to stay with Vanessa? That’s what we’re telling people now?” Monica’s voice was sharp, disbelief

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cutting through each syllable.

Daniel sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s better for her. You know it is.”

“It’s humiliating. That’s what it is,” Monica snapped. “Do you know what people will say? That we can’t even keep our daughter in our own home? That we’ve failed as parents?”

“Maybe we have,” Daniel shot back, his voice lower but no less impactful. “Maybe we’ve made this house so unbearable that someone else had to step in.”

Monica faltered, arms tightening around herself. “This isn’t how I wanted things to go.”

“But it’s how they are,” he replied, exhaustion weighing on every word.

Upstairs, Cheryl curled up beneath her blanket, staring at the ceiling as their voices drifted through the thin walls. For once, she didn’t feel trapped by their fights.

Tomorrow, she would leave.

And for the first time in a long time, she was actually looking forward to what came next.

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Cheryl had been staying with the Carters for three days now, and while she felt a sense of relief being away from the suffocating tension at home, there was still one problem, Vanessa.

Bless her heart, Cheryl knew her best friend meant well, but Vanessa had made it her personal mission to be glued to her side at all times. Morning, afternoon, and night. If Cheryl so much as tried to breathe in solitude, Vanessa would pop up with a dramatic gasp, demanding to know why she was brooding. To her, this was her way of being a good friend, a supportive presence Cheryl should be grateful for. And she was. Truly. But she also wouldn’t mind five minutes alone.

George, on the other hand, had an entirely different issue with Vanessa’s constant hovering. He was barely getting any time with Cheryl, and it was driving him insane. It wasn’t like he could just tell his daughter to back off, but every time he walked into a room to find Cheryl and Vanessa giggling like schoolgirls, he felt an unreasonable urge to kidnap Cheryl for himself.

So when Vanessa proposed a beach vacation for the weekend, George saw it as both a blessing and a curse.

“We all need some fun!” Vanessa declared, tossing her arms around Cheryl’s shoulders. “And Dad, you seriously need to learn how to relax. Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything. We’re going to Myrtle Beach, and it’s going to be amazing!”

George sighed, “Vanessa-”

“No buts! We’re going. Pack your stuff, old man.”

And that was that.

The drive down to the beach was exciting with Vanessa’s endless playlist, Cheryl’s laughter, and George regretting all his life choices. But as soon as they arrived, the sun glistening over the waves, the salty breeze tousling Cheryl’s hair, he thought, maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the worst idea Vanessa had ever had.

The first few hours were pure and quite fun as they had now changed into their swimming outfits. Cheryl ran straight into the waves, shrieking when Vanessa tackled her into the water. They played volleyball, where George was promptly teased for being the most unenthusiastic player in history. He tried, but Vanessa kept shaking her head at him like he was a lost cause.

“God, Dad, do you even know how to have fun?”

“This is fun,” he said dryly, standing there, arms crossed. Cheryl crossed her legs as she saw the way his biceps. twitched, crossed over his broad chest that she ached to run her fingers over.

“No, it’s not fun. Here, have some of this.” They had gotten cups of ice cream and Cheryl acted as though she wanted him to have a taste. And before he could react, Cheryl smacked a scoop of ice cream right onto his face.

Vanessa gasped. “Cheryl! Oh my God, I love you.”

Cheryl giggled, eyes twinkling with mischief. “He looked like he needed it.”

George wiped the cold dessert from his cheek, a slow smirk forming. “You shouldn’t have done that, sweetheart.

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Cheryl barely had time to react before he grabbed a handful of his own ice cream and smeared it right across her

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nose. She let out a shocked gasp, and then all hell broke loose. It became an all–out war, ice cream flying, laughter echoing across the beach. Vanessa was in tears from laughing so hard, and even George, the supposedly rigid one, couldn’t stop smiling.

By the time night fell, exhaustion had settled over them. They sprawled across the beach house’s living room, sipping cocktails and watching the waves in comfortable silence.

Then Vanessa’s phone buzzed.

She frowned, reading the message. “Shit. That’s… unexpected.”

Cheryl sat up. “What is it?”

“Ryan just texted. It’s kind of an emergency, and I need to fly back tonight.”

George raised an eyebrow. “Do you need me to drive you?”

“Nah, I already called a cab to the airport.”

Cheryl hesitated. “Does it have to do with his health? Should I go with you?”

Vanessa scoffed. “Absolutely not. You two stay here and enjoy the weekend. I’ll be fine.”

George and Cheryl exchanged a glance. Alone. In the beach house. Just the two of them.

As Vanessa packed up and left in a whirlwind, Cheryl turned back to George.

“So… it’s just us now.”

He watched her, the glow of the dim lights casting soft shadows over her face. His throat went dry.

“Yeah,” he said, voice lower than before. “Just us.”

They returned to the building, George grabbing a bottle of whiskey and pouring himself a drink.

“We should see a movie.” Cheryl chipped in, her hands interlocked as she watched him take a sip of his drink. He was still shirtless, the tattoos glowing under the orange light like they were alive. She couldn’t stop watching the way his muscles ripped with every movement, causing her a lump to form in her throat.

George noticed the mischievous glint in her eyes and went to his box before bringing out a small rose like toy, a rod like wand and a handcuff. He turned around, watching her eyes widen with anticipation as he spoke.

“You’re right. We should see a movie.”

Cheryl wrapped her arms around herself. They were alone, away from home and Vanessa had flown back, giving them all the advantage that was needed. How could she say no?

Cheryl and George stepped into the private theater inside the beach house. The space was nothing short of luxurious, as always, a long bench–like cushion lined the room, the plush leather soft and relaxing. The air was laced with the faint scent of caramel popcorn and leather.

Soft LED lights traced the ceiling, casting a warm, intimate glow before fading into darkness as George hit the control panel near the entrance. A massive screen stretched across the far wall, framed by elegant, dark velvet curtains that gave the room a classic, old–Hollywood charm. The walls were lined with acoustic panels,

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ensuring the perfect sound quality as the movie played, immersing them completely.

A sleek minibar sat in the corner, stocked with chilled wine, sodas, and an assortment of snacks that practically begged to be devoured. The theater was a world of its own, private and intimate. As Cheryl sank into the cushion, she couldn’t help but grin. “I think I might just live in here.”

George smirked, settling beside her. “Not a bad idea. But you’d have to share.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, grabbing the remote. “We’ll see about that.”

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