Page 36 of Father Knows Best (A Family Affair #1)

twenty-two

. . .

geo

The Morning After

Usually, hotel showers never run cold. But I’ve stood under this spray for so long, I’ve finally found the limit.

Reaching for the knob, I give it a twist, and shut it off.

Did I wash? Surely after being in here for an hour I washed.

At the beginning, maybe? I don’t remember, but I grab the towel from the hook and dry myself before stepping out, the conditioned air stinging my senses.

With wet feet, I walk out of the bathroom and find the room service cart, which I ordered before the shower. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I pull the cart toward me and pour myself a cup of coffee.

The first sip is sobering, and I’m not drunk.

My veins heat and my body perks, and I take another sip then another, and after a minute, I’m sweating and my tongue is burned, and my mug is empty. I refill it, and my phone rings.

I look around the room, unsure where it is.

I came back to my room around four in the morning, and stripped down, sleeping naked.

I move around the bed as the monotonous ringtone drones on, spotting my pants on the ground.

I grab them and dig through the pockets, but they’re empty.

Then I see it on the ground, vibrating in a circle along the pattern in the carpet, my brother's name and photo staring back at me.

I snatch it up and flop down across the bed again.

“Hey.”

“Good morning,” he greets, loud and cheerful, per usual. “We made a tee time for ten this morning. Thought you and I could play some golf before we get back to reality. Make a half-day of vacation out of it.”

I yawn, because according to my phone, it’s only eight fifteen in the morning. I’m too old to thrive or even human off of three hours of sleep. “It’s Sunday. We don’t have work today, anyway.”

“Maybe you don't. But bars are always open–especially mine.” There’s a small clattering in the background, then, “Oh, don’t be difficult, it’s only pulp. Just drink the juice, Kat.” His voice returns to me. “C’mon, Geo, don’t be like that. Golf with me.”

My mind is a mess this morning. I guess I didn’t think this far down the line, to the next morning, to the following day, to whatever comes after . Now though, the idea of seeing Sutton and Avery sets my nerves on edge.

Fuck.

This was a mistake.

“You there?” Ford asks.

I stroke a hand over my hair, damp from the shower, then down my face, my beard still benefitting from yesterday’s pre- ceremony spa treatment and trim.

“I’m here. I’m… too tired to golf today,” I tell him, and that’s not a lie.

I’m fucking exhausted. But the real truth is?

Ford would know something is wrong. And I would tell him if he prodded.

I trust my brother. It’s not about that.

It’s about Avery and Sutton. Would they want Ford to know?

Would they be okay with Ford knowing? I don’t know.

There’s so much I don’t know because the three of us jumped into a really weird, menage-shaped swimming pool without being able to read the pool rules.

I can’t risk unleashing this secret if they don’t want that.

“Please don’t make me take Kat,” he teases.

A soft knock at the hotel door startles me, and despite the private volume, Ford hears it. “Room service?”

I look at the room service cart. “Yeah. I gotta go. Good luck on the course.” I end the call and snatch the hotel robe from the closet, pulling it on quickly before opening the room door.

“Good morning,” Sutton greets, nodding his head.

“Mornin’,” Avery joins him, smiling cheerfully, her arm looped through his. She peers around me, into my unkempt room. “Can we come in?”

I step back, and the door opens with me, and they walk past, coming to sit on the unused bed in the room.

I sit on my bed, across from them. Sutton is wearing jeans, a pointelle knit short-sleeved shirt with the collar turned down, and white sneakers.

Avery, whose flaxen hair was between my fingers and in my hands last night, has it up, a messy knot on top of her head.

In a white sundress and three-inch platform espadrille sandals, my mind struggles to stay focused. Has she always been this beautiful?

Sutton looks at my robe, then me. “Just shower? Nice. I really liked the water pressure here.”

I shrug one shoulder. “You’re in the penthouse. You shouldn’t have a single complaint.”

He smiles. “I don’t.”

Avery reaches out, patting my knee. “We wanted to talk to you about the upcoming week.”

They’re leaving for their honeymoon to Bora Bora this afternoon.

I was CC’d and BCC’d on too many client meetings in the last month, to prepare for Sutton and Avery’s week away.

They’re so core and crucial to everyday processes at Mercer Properties that planning for the honeymoon required a month of rescheduling.

I scratch at the back of my head. “Everything’s taken care of at Mercer, you both know that.”

Has she thought about last night? Did she wake up and remember that she let me inside of her sweet, innocent, little ass? Did my son wake up this morning—the day after his wedding—and immediately get slapped in the face with the memory of his father plugging and fucking his wife?

“Geo?” Avery questions, her eyebrows sinking, expression a bit confused.

“Huh?”

My son nods. “We know work is taken care of. That’s not what we wanted to talk about.

” He gets to his feet and starts touching things on the room service cart.

The domed stainless lid clinks against the pitcher of water and the slosh of coffee refilling my mug somewhat grounds me.

I stare at Avery, who is watching me, expressionless, her cerulean eyes serious.

Sutton returns with a plate of scrambled eggs and a mug of coffee. “Here.”

I sip the coffee and set it between the two beds on the nightstand, then balance the plate on my legs, taking a bite of eggs.

“We wanted to talk to you about the honeymoon,” Sutton says, checking his cell phone screen before shoving it back into his pocket.

I sip the coffee and put it back down, taking another few bites of eggs. I didn’t want to eat. I wanted to sit and stare at the wall and wonder if I just ruined all of our lives.

But the eggs are fluffy.

“Thanks,” I tell my son, tipping the plate to indicate what I’m referring to.

He bypasses the comment. “We want you to join us. For the week.”

I blink at him, then look at Avery, whose lip is pinned between her teeth in absolute suspense. “It’s your honeymoon.”

Avery nods. “We know.”

I slide the plate onto the bed and reach for the coffee, keeping it between my hands.

“You want me for fun, I get that, but if I come on the honeymoon, I’m impeding your relationship.

I don’t want to do that. And I don’t want to live like I’m a part of it, either.

That’s not what we’ve discussed.” I hate that the words come out cold and biting, as evident by the reactive stoicism on both of their faces. But I have to protect myself.

I adore Avery. I don’t believe I need to say that again.

And being with the two of them in a social sense is easy.

Last night, this seemed perfect. Obvious, even. I was a savior.

This morning, with sunshine pouring through the curtains and hot coffee scalding my hands, this all seems…

“Don't say it was a mistake,” Avery says, her voice wobbly, chin, too. “I’ve been going crazy in my head for the last year, loving Sutton so much but realizing that all the stuff I want with him may be something I don’t get.

And I came to terms with that. I learned to be okay with that.

But then last night, I got the taste for having both what I want and who I need.

” She pauses, her eyes wordlessly begging as they sink into mine, wide and wet. “Please, Geo, please come with us.”

“Sutton has every right to make his entire life about you,” I tell her slowly, “and no one would judge him for rearranging his life to make his wife happy.” My son drops his gaze to his shoes, but Avery still blinks at me, hope swimming in her blue eyes.

“But my life isn’t about you, and living to give you what you need.

” I take a pause, my eyes searching hers, hoping she can see and sense where all this is coming from, but I don’t know, because the most I know about Avery, I learned through Roberta, Chanel, Jon, Brandon–everyone but the source.

Or the man closest to her, because just a few weeks ago, things with us were all still fucked up. And now? I’m their bandage.

But everyone knows, you don’t need a bandage forever.

“It makes no sense for a father to join his son and daughter-in-law on their honeymoon. And I won’t start a habit of lying about where I am or who I’m with—I’ve been on the receiving end of that, and it’s awful.”

Avery doesn’t bat an eye, as if potentially they expected my immediate rejection of their idea.

“I hear you, Geo, I do. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to steamroll you.

Or that we’re trying to steamroll you. You don’t have to come, and you’re right, we asked you to be with us intimately, not for you to stand as a third in our relationship.

And I’m sorry for making you feel like you have to make your whole life about me, and if it feels that way, please do decline.

” She switches beds, coming to sit by my side, her thigh bumping mine.

“But we’d love for you to join us. Yes, we’d spend the full week together.

But Sutton and I discussed it this morning and we’d both really like to have you there.

I’ve got some spa appointments and some massages booked, too.

On those days, you guys can golf, or grab a cabana on the beach. A relaxing trip for everyone.”

She slides her hand over my robe-covered thigh, and squeezes. “And in the evenings, we’d like you to join us. And when Sutton booked the room, he only booked one, so for the week, the three of us would share the California King. But I’d take the middle so it wouldn’t be weird.”

I blink at both of them. “No, we wouldn’t want it to be weird.”

Sutton snorts. Avery giggles, and after a beat, the three of us break the tension in a roar of laughter. When it settles, she smiles at me, and squeezes my thigh again.

I clear my throat. “We never discussed some pretty crucial things.”

Avery shrugs. “You can’t come inside me when I’m trying to get pregnant. What else is there?”

My lower half seizes from the easy way those implications tumble from her lips. Can’t come inside me when I’m trying to get pregnant means there’s a time where she wants me inside of her, and he’s okay with it. That makes my mind get tingly and my chest grow tight.

I face my son. “You’re sure?”

He nods. “ We’re sure.” He glances at Avery, then back to me, adding, “and we considered that you wouldn’t want to lie about where you are this week, and we’re both fine with anyone and everyone knowing that you joined us.”

My brows furrow, and I split a confused glance between the two of them. “What’s the reasoning? Aren’t you concerned people will think that Avery and I are having an affair?” I direct the question to Sutton, but look at Avery just as much.

Sutton, my uptight, rule following, non-experimental son, shrugs. “The reasoning is whatever we want, or nothing at all. Who is entitled to a reason? And I know you’re not having an affair with Avery, and I know Avery loves me, so I’m unconcerned about what others think.”

I glance at the open suitcase on the floor and look around the room. “I don’t have enough clothing or things to go to Bora Bora.”

Sutton nods. “The car is here, ready to take you back home to grab things, and then come back for us. We’re going to pay the bill for last night and talk to the event staff, make sure the gifts are loaded and headed to our place, and when that’s all done, you’ll be back and we can head to the airport together. ”

My heart is racing, my mind pounding, groin throbbing. “Alright.”

“Really?” Avery squeals, steepling her hands under her chin, blinking at me with those wide blue eyes that twist me up inside.

I offered myself up to help them, to save my son from heartache, to be the father that I failed to be years ago.

But the way my heart is rocking behind my ribs at Avery’s excitement makes me wonder if this is a mistake.

Still, I’m a glutton for punishment, and her smile makes me a junkie—and I need more of her sweet disposition, happiness and levity.

Against my judgement, knowing the copious amount of phone calls I’ll have to make to ease my sudden absence, I smile. “I’m in.”