• Carla Buchanan

BGGM Entry 1: Sunday, December 6, 2026

Updated: Feb 24, 2021

This is a work of fiction. Any names, places, characters, and happenings are solely products of the author’s imagination or fictitious retellings. Any likeness to actual events, locations, persons living or dead, is coincidental.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this blog may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system - except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper - without permission in writing from the publisher.

**Readers 18 and up only please**.

I sit straight up in the bed, a little angry at whoever decided to interrupt my sleep but not yet aware of what exactly made me wake. I then hear the sound that must’ve woke me again and feel my heart start to pump quickly at how terrified the blood-curdling scream sounds to my early morning hearing.

The scream is high-pitched, like an animal being slaughtered or what it would sound like if someone was dying. The fact that the sound seems to be right outside the wall of the room is disturbing in a way I cannot describe with any word other than chilling. Making things worse is the fact that I’m sure the scream belongs to a child - possibly one of my boyfriend’s twin nieces.

Not boyfriend anymore. Fiancé now.

I’m not the only one who wakes because of the sound. There’s a sudden movement next to me, the bed shifts, and a moment later a naked, freckled, light brown ass streaks across my line of sight, crossing the room’s threshold. He enters the second room of the guest suite in his parents’ massive home, mumbling curses as he makes his way to the door.

Sleep still hasn’t worn for me so Beau’s naked ass doesn’t process quickly enough. When I realize where we are, I mumble curses of my own. I remember Beau’s mother’s traditions, her rules, her strict edict that we do not sleep in the same bed while under her roof come flooding back but it’s too late to do anything about it. I hear the door of the suite open, a sudden hush, and then a collective and audible gasp.

By now Beau is giving the others who have come to investigate the scream a full-frontal view of his naked body and his morning erection. The gasps I hear are a sure sign of that, but what makes me groan is that I’m sure one of those gasps sounds more appalled than the others. I know that distinct tone belongs to Juliette Lacoste, the ‘lady’ of Lacoste Estate.

“What the hell Addi?” I hear Beau say to his niece, and I’m suddenly sure that nothing was ever wrong and that his nieces are being their usual devilish selves. I don’t hear either of the girls respond to him, I instead hear a tiny chorus of giggles before one sister speaks to the other.

“You owe me one dollar,” Addison, the older twin, says and giggles. “I told you I could get Uncle Beau in trouble and you didn’t believe me,” Addison adds and then I hear small feet run away.

“Aw, man,” the other twin, Allison, pouts, and then she runs away as well.

My brother and I were never this evil, I think to myself about me and my twin brother, Joseph.

I sigh in relief when I hear the door close without anyone mentioning the fact that this isn’t Beau’s room, but mine. My relief is short-lived when I’m sure there aren’t just one set of footsteps but two. I brace myself for what I know is coming since I know there is only one person in this house bold enough to follow a naked Beau back into my room.

Beaumont Lacoste enters the suite I was assigned by Beau’s mother, but he isn’t alone. A fully dressed, fully made up, Juliette Lacoste enters not far behind her son. She’s dressed in a winter white form-skimming wrap dress in a cable knit material. A thin cable-knit belt is tied at her nonexistent waist and her arms are crossed over her suspiciously perky breasts tastefully showcased by the V-neck of the dress. She stops at the foot of my bed not giggling like her daughter, twin granddaughters, or their nanny had. Her gaze bounces from me to Beau as he bends to pick up the towel he left on the floor after we took a shower together last night.

Juliette’s expression tries for anger, but the fillers will only allow her expression to go as far as indifference, which makes me want to laugh but I manage to hold it in. Her disappointed head shake makes bouncy black strands dance over her shoulders, bringing attention to her mostly wrinkle-free features. Her skin, the same medium brown shade as mine glows with a health I’ll be lucky to have when I’m her age. For the briefest of moments, I admire the woman’s beauty that seems to be stuck at about age forty, silently giving the older woman props for her dedication to her health and beauty regimen.

“Beau, I expect you to know my rules,” she says not bothering to turn away from her grown son as he covers himself. He starts to make his way back over to the bed like he might climb in with me right in front of her and I pray he doesn’t.

“Mother, it is two thousand twenty-six. We’re adults and we’ve been dating for almost a year,” Beau says, and I refrain from correcting him and saying that we’ve only been together for seven months. “We’ve been sleeping together for months,” he adds. I feel the blush of embarrassment on my skin but know Juliette can’t see it because of my caramel coloring, and because she isn’t looking at me. “We got engaged last night. I know you didn’t expect me not to want to -”

“You’re right, Mrs. Lacoste,” I interrupt before her son can further embarrass me. “I should’ve turned Beau away when he turned up at my door last night. I promise it will never happen again. Beau is going to dress and leave right now.”

I glance over at Beau and make sure he’s paying attention. I want to make sure he sees the look that says he won’t be having sex with me ever again if he continues to talk about our sex life in front of his mother. The look must be properly conveyed because he reluctantly grabs his tuxedo pants and starts to pull them over the boxer briefs he just put on.

“Thank you again, Mrs. Lacoste, for inviting me to your anniversary party, and congratulations… again,” I say, trying to stall while Beau retrieves his tuxedo jacket and his phone. He looks over at me as he pulls on his tuxedo coat, and I give him a death glare that surely conveys that I will never have sex with him again if he dares ask for his shirt back right now since it covers my body. He winks a hazel eye at me that makes me shake my head before he walks over to Juliette and starts to lead her toward the door.

“Come on Mother,” Beau says with the charming tone that reeled me in and made me break my rule to never date a current or former client. The fact he’s the son of my mother’s best friend gave me pause as well because it felt a little like I was following her down her life’s path and that’s the last thing I want to do. “I’ll give you mine and Chrissy’s thoughts on the list of event planners for the wedding,” Beau adds like it’s something we’ve actually discussed. We’ve been engaged less than a day and haven’t had a chance to talk about anything. Not that I even want to talk about the wedding since I’m still not sure it’s something I want. Though, it’s the perfect thing to say to get his mother’s mind off our rule violation.

I think about the proposal, perfectly timed to happen right before the drone light show during Juliette and Laurent Lacoste’s 35th wedding anniversary party. I groan as I ask myself, “What the fuck have I done?” The question brings my attention to the gaudy, ice blue cushion-cut diamond sitting atop a band ringed in smaller ice blue diamonds. It’s a beautiful piece of jewelry. Very large and very heavy, and surely very expensive but not my taste at all. I get the idea. I get that Beau was letting me know that he heard me when I said blue diamonds remind me of my home in the winter after an ice storm. I appreciate that, I really do. But I can’t marry anyone right now, and it’s not only because I don’t want to risk turning into someone like Juliette Lacoste whose current claim to fame is the dress, she wore to some event last season. It’s not only because I don’t want to be ‘the wife’ who wears the dress but genius who made the decision for her to wear the dress that got her the cover of Vanity Fair. It’s not only because I want to be me, Chrissy Anson, my own person before I attach myself to someone who wants to take that away.

It’s because there’s a reason much bigger than any of that.

Not that I don’t think Beaumont Lacoste is someone I should want to marry. He’s definitely a catch whose ambition reminds me a little of my father. Also reminding me of my father is the fact that Beaumont Lacoste works in real estate development. Though, ‘work’s in’ is probably putting it mildly because Beaumont Lacoste is the president of one of the largest real estate development companies in the country now that his father has had to give up the position to serve as one of California’s state senators. which is much like m My own father works in real estate development as well but his position as mayor of our town doesn’t interfere with his business very much since no major developments are located in my hometown. It also means he’s my father’s boss since Valley Developments, my father’s company, is a subsidiary of Lacoste, Inc.

One could imagine that marrying the man who holds my father’s future in his hands will only work in my father’s favor, but the truth is that I don’t know if Beaumont Lacoste is who I want to be with forever. Last night, had the setting had been different, the answer probably would’ve been different as well. Had Beau asked me to marry him in some private way, I would’ve turned him down. I would’ve reminded him that my career is what’s important to me right now and that I never want to be a politician’s wife after being the daughter of one for years.

That conversation is probably why he decided to ask in such a public place. He knows me well enough to know there is no way I would’ve embarrassed him in front of everyone by saying no. I’m sure he thinks that this is his chance to make me fall in love with him before I muster up the courage to give back the ring.

Though, even if he could make me fall deeply in love with him there’s still that other reason I can’t marry Beau… I doubt he’ll appreciate the fact that I’m already married to someone else.


Next Post today at 8am EST.

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