Page 42 of Father Knows Best (A Family Affair #1)

twenty-five

. . .

avery

The Gift Exchange

Before my wedding, working with my husband and father-in-law was a nonissue. Since returning from our honeymoon, however, seeing them around the office has posed a challenge.

I’ve turned from a sharp, nicely dressed, polite working woman to a horny, perverted, mess. Internally only, of course, but still.

Sex and sex acts with Sutt and Geo are pretty much the only thing I can think about.

On my last staging project, I positioned a chair in the corner of the master suite, facing the bed.

Roberta pointed out that the home is a two-bedroom in Pacific Heights, and extra furniture in such a small space didn’t make sense.

And in my head, when I drug the chair out of the room and watched Arnaud load it back into the truck, I felt sad for Sutton.

My brain is warped.

I can’t stop envisioning the three of us together everywhere.

And last night, Geo finally moved in. Sure, it was two suitcases and a small bag, and he still owns his home, and nothing is permanent or forever. But he’s here. For now. And that’s what matters.

Despite the fact we all work at Mercer Properties together, we took two separate cars to the office this morning, with Sutt and his dad sharing one, and me taking my own. I had to stop by my furniture builder’s studio, as he’s working on a custom piece for one of Roberta’s highest end listings.

While there, with Sutt and Geo on my mind, I check on the new piece, for us.

I’d managed to make some phone calls at my spa day in Bora Bora, one of those being to my designer.

Today, I’m seeing my designs brought to life, just days later.

After approving the design, I verify that it will be delivered to our place before we get home.

My surprise to my guys.

“Hello?” I answer my phone with the touch of a button on the screen in my vehicle, returning both hands to the steering wheel as I parallel park in front of our building.

“Hey, are you running late?” Sutton asks, his voice gentle and deep, two of my favorite ways his voice can be. So sexy.

Shifting into park, I snatch my purse from the passenger seat, switching the call to my phone, and check my side mirrors before throwing my door open in downtown San Francisco traffic.

My heels click against the broken asphalt and in the distance, a car horn sounds, and man shouts an inaudible grievance.

I lift my hand, waving at Sutton, standing in the doorframe of the lobby. “I’m here, I’m waving.”

His eyes find me, and a sexy look of desire overtakes his handsome features, darkening his eyes. He shoves his phone into his pocket and collects my body in his arms with so much ease that I slap at his shoulders and giggle, pressing a kiss on his neck, beneath his collar.

He lowers me. “Wait until you see this.”

Taking the old elevator up, we arrive at the penthouse of the building.

When the doors open, Geo is there, smiling, arm extended.

“Ready for the tour?” he asks, and I nod, letting Geo and Sutt guide me around the small but gorgeous space, located in a building that Mercer has been dying to be in for years, but never had the chance—according to Geo.

Once I’ve seen every square foot and built a basic staging plan in my mind, Sutton tells me the good news.

“Dad got us the listing,” he says, earning a wink from Geo.

“But I found someone who wants it. We still have to do the full staging for our website and for the client, but they are very interested.” His smile tells me things he hasn’t.

Wide and pleased, I think I know why this means so much. It’s not just the building.

“How will this one rank among the other sales?” I ask, cutting my gaze between the two of them.

Geo and Sutt are top agents, and so are the others at Mercer.

They are goal-oriented, and in the real estate business, that means they want the best listings and to sell them for the highest prices.

That’s what matters in big city real estate—turning the best listings into unbelievable profit.

“This will be our highest list price sale, if the client goes through with the purchase,” Sutton says, earning a wide grin from Geo, who slaps his son on the bicep.

“I can’t believe you talked a buyer into that price point,” he says, watching Sutton with both pride and adoration, the same way I look at Sutt.

Sutton shrugs. “Let’s not count our chickens before they hatch.”

“I agree,” Geo says, “but I do think a nice, pre-celebratory steak is in order. Simply for locking down the listing. We’ll celebrate for real if you sell it.”

I pluck a piece of lint off of Sutt’s shoulder. “ When you sell it,” I correct.

Geo’s smile is sly, and he wags a finger at me. “That’s right. When , not if.”

“Fine, a steak then a nightcap at home?” Sutton proposes, looking between Geo and myself. My insides flare with heat, squeezing and pulsing at the possibility of what a nightcap could entail.

I’m itching to make love to Sutton like I always am, but I’m also dying for some fun exploration with G, too.

We tried so many new things on the honeymoon and there’s so much more I want to explore, with both of them, in their own ways.

As much as I want to say screw it to the steak, I peer at my phone and see the delivery being made, and know we need to stay gone a bit longer anyway.

“Sounds good to me,” Geo says, then they look my way, waiting for final approval. I nod and tune out their work talk on the drive to the restaurant, instead writing a list of naughty to-dos in my mind for later.

At the restaurant, Geo slips the ma?tre d' a few folded bills, and he escorts us to a private table in their private back room.

Geo pulls my chair out for me, and Sutt drapes my napkin over my legs.

They talk shop and I let them, so drunk off both of them that I sit quietly with ease, sipping my wine, watching the two most important men in my life get along, and get along well.

When our food arrives, Sutton cuts my steak and Geo uses the table’s pitcher to top off my water.

He shares his uncut horseradish, and Sutt makes sure they box up my leftovers when we’re done.

Together, whether they know it or not, they take care of me, and it’s on the drive back to our house that I realize—I want this forever.

Sutton keeps his hand on my lower back as we walk up the back entrance to the house, Geo using the key Sutton gave him today to open the door.

We head inside, and find ourselves at the kitchen island, a bottle of whiskey in Sutt’s hand, three glasses pinched in Geo’s.

They loosen their ties in tandem, and my ovaries catch fire from so much eroticism.

“Please come to our room tonight,” I spit out, hands braced against the marble, absolutely interrupting their conversation about interest rates.

Geo, a bit taken back, glances at his son before leveling his eyes on me. “Got a hankering?” he asks, his tone teasing and raspy, the right combination to leave me explosive between my legs.

I nod. “I want to use the rest of the things we bought together in Bora Bora.”

Sutton sips his whiskey while scrolling through his phone. “Avery, did you turn off the security cameras this afternoon?” His dark brows stay rumbled together as he swipes through security footage, trying to solve why all of the eastward facing cameras were off for the last two hours, but on now.

“I did.” This answer earns me two hunky and inquisitive glances from both of them. “I had a delivery. And I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Geo shrugs out of his suit jacket and hangs it on a barstool, and Sutt does the same. I stare at the two suit coats on the backs of barstools, then up at my guys.

My guys.

Sutton is my husband, and he’s the most true and loyal man I’ve met.

But Geo, can I really say Geo is my guy?

He came in clutch, did a solid for us on our wedding night, talked us out of making an emotional decision. Then he offered himself up as a sexual solution and emotional bridge for us, to keep Sutton and I together during times we feel distant.

Tonight’s surprise is bold and assertive, two things I am normally not. Hell, those traits belong to Geo, not me. But I think sometimes in life to reach your goals, to grab your dreams, to hold your prized possession in your hands–whatever that may be, you have to do a big thing.

Today, I did a big thing.

I just hope it pays off.

Sutton moves around the kitchen island until he’s at my side, pushing my hair over my shoulder so he can gain access to my throat. He kisses me, lowering his empty whiskey glass to the counter while looping an arm around my waist.

“A surprise? For us?” he asks, dragging his soft lips against the warmest spots on my throat, as Geo’s storming eyes lay focused on me.

“Where is it?” Geo asks.

“What is it?” Sutton inquiries.

I slip out of his arms, and outstretch a hand to each of them. There is no hesitation, grumbles or groans—Geo crosses the kitchen and takes my hand, pressing a soft kiss to my palm, while Sutton takes the other, kissing my jaw and chin.

Their off-beat steps behind me make my pulse skip as we tread gently upstairs, coming to stop in the wide hallway between two doors.

Geo’s door and ours.

Both are closed.

I shake free of their hands and step back, nervously twisting my hands together behind my back. “I know that you’ve only spent one night here, and that we didn’t discuss anything with any permanence, and I also know that those discussions have to take place down the road, but–”

Geo laughs, causing my words to fall off a cliff. I brace my hands on my hips. “Hey, why are you laughing?”

I look over at my husband who is also smirking. “Your preamble is a dead giveaway that you’re nervous about this gift,” Sutt says.

Geo nods. “That.”