I Quit Being a Stepmother (Cypress Gem) novel Chapter 96

Even after stepping into George’s place, Rhea couldn’t shake off the heaviness in her chest.

No matter how hard she tried to avoid thinking about Carter, her mind replayed every painful memory over and over.

George had a room prepped for her and dismissed the household staff early.

“George, do you have any alcohol?” Rhea asked as she stood in the middle of the living room.

George stepped inside and switched into his indoor slippers, but his height barely changed. He was just as tall in slippers.

He was even taller than Nathan, standing at least six feet one. Even with Rhea’s height, she still had to look up at him.

“You’re pregnant,” George reminded her.

Rhea dropped her gaze. “I never planned to keep this baby.‘

She would undergo the procedure once she returned to Colburn.

The only reason she was returning at all was for work. She needed to move quickly and start building stronger connections between Louie and Draventh.

George’s expression didn’t shift, though a faint smile appeared in his eyes. “I’ll grab something for you.”

He returned with a low–alcohol brew, something light that wouldn’t knock her out. “Drink this for now. Don’t have red wine first. Do you want something to snack on with it?” he asked.

Rhea leaned her chin into her hand. “You got anything?”

Smiling, George turned and strolled into the open kitchen. It had to be at least 800 square feet.

Her lashes fluttered slightly.

The reason Rhea and her friends had always liked hanging out with George growing up was that he never acted like a strict older brother.

In fact, when they got a little bratty, George would even stand up for them in front of their own brothers. That was why they all felt more at ease around George.

Rhea’s gaze followed him as he moved around the kitchen.

He was a wealthy young man who turned out to be decent, with the looks to match. And he could

even cook.

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Chapter 96

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Rhea felt awkward sitting there doing nothing, so she stepped into the kitchen. “Do you cook for yourself?”

“Rarely,” George replied as he sliced vegetables with practiced ease. He teased, “Why go through the trouble when I have chefs? I don’t suffer when I don’t have to.”

Rhea pouted. “That sounded a little passive–aggressive.”

“Drop the ‘sounded like‘.”

She scrunched her face, then turned and walked out, refusing to help anymore.

Soon, George returned with two simple dishes–chicken tenders and a salad.

“Even if you don’t want the baby, you still need to eat well. Your body’s your revenge. Dig in. I’m going to change first.”

“Alright.”

A few minutes later, George came down the stairs with a phone in hand.

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He was still dressed in black, but this time it was a collarless short–sleeve linen shirt, paired with loose–fitting trousers in the same fabric and color. The look was effortlessly clean–cut, casual, and distinctly masculine.

Once he sat down, he cracked open a craft beer.

Rhea looked up at him. “Do you think I brought this all on myself?”

George was blunt as he said, “Yeah.”

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