Faking A Groom (Marital Bliss Book 3) Page 6

  For fuck’s sake.

  Avery looked under siege as Holly stared at him, classifying him like one of the specimens of marine life she worked with at the local aquarium. Handsome manius is beautiful, so as to attract mates and then eat them.

  “Avery’s not a handsome man.”

  Avery shot him an offended look.

  “I mean, he’s not just a handsome man,” Rory said, smirking.

  Avery didn’t need to know that Rory was still attracted to him. Let him believe Rory was unmoved. That would be for the best.

  Avery’s mouth quirked, something devilish in his expression. “Not just a handsome man,” Avery said, turning to Holly. “I’m his fiancé.”

  Holly, who’d lost interest and was unscrewing the tequila bottle, paused. “Fiancé?” She looked down at the bottle. “Maybe I’ve already had too much to drink.”

  She was clearly buzzed, with her flushed skin and bright eyes, but she was far from being wasted.

  Rory hated the idea of lying to her, but they couldn’t go around telling all their friends the truth. He trusted Holly, but…her brother was a reporter for The Gaily Planet, a regional gay blog site with a good following, not to mention she was friendly with a lot of people who might know the Kinkaids.

  “You’re not hallucinating. Avery and I are engaged.”

  Her gaze swung between them. “Avery...”

  “Kinkaid,” Avery said.

  She dropped the bottle, and they all watched it roll under the coffee table. Thankfully, she hadn’t succeeded in getting the top off.

  “Avery Kinkaid?” she said in astonishment, but not for the reason Rory expected. “Isn’t he the dickhead who ruined you in high school?!”

  Avery couldn’t check his wince. And, he noticed, neither could Rory.

  Ruined him? Christ, did Rory really think that? Avery had regrets. Sure, he did. He knew he’d blown his chances with Rory by being afraid to come out. But he’d never, for a second, thought he’d done any real damage to anyone other than himself. Rory had walked away, head held high.

  “Shit,” Avery muttered, feeling lower than pond scum.

  “He didn’t ruin me,” Rory said. He glanced at Avery. “She’s very dramatic. The liquor doesn’t help.”

  “Hey, you said I wasn’t drunk!”

  “No, I said you weren’t hallucinating. Maybe I spoke too soon.”

  As the friends bickered, only half playfully, Avery slipped into the kitchen and opened cabinet doors until he found little retro juice glasses with images of Lucille Ball on the side. He grinned, enjoying this little insight to Rory’s character and the fact that, after all these years, he still knew some things about Rory, like how much he loved I Love Lucy.

  Holding one up as he re-entered the room, he said, “Lucy needs a drink.”

  Rory rolled his eyes. “You would find my Lucy stash. Guess they’ll do. I don’t have any shot glasses.”

  “These are cute!” Holly said. “More fun than boring old shot glasses.”

  “I agree,” Avery said, relieved the two seemed to have come to a ceasefire.

  “Sorry for being so rude,” Holly said as Rory tipped back his shot of tequila.

  He made a face. “Should have cut up those limes.”

  Grabbing the limes, Holly stood. “I’ll do it. Be right back.”

  Once she was out of the room, Avery eyed Rory over the rim of his glass. “Everything okay?”

  Rory dragged a hand down his face. His hair, which had been pulled back in a bun, was coming loose, with tendrils hanging down to frame his face. It softened his features. Avery found he liked the longer hair. Rory had always been so clean-cut in boarding school, but then they all had been. He wondered idly if longer hair was Rory’s only rebellion. Did he have any ink, any piercings?

  Avery locked his own small rebellions down and kept them hidden. Perhaps Rory did the same.

  “...drunk and probably exaggerated. It’s fine, though.” Rory reached over, tapping his leg. “You listening?”

  Avery blinked away the images unspooling in his mind. Ink unfurling up a thigh or cutting across a shoulder blade. He pressed down hard on the urge to ask. Clearing his throat, he nodded. “Yeah, go on.”

  “I explained that things had been rocky, mainly because your dad wants you in the closet. She understands now.”

  Avery lowered his voice. “I didn’t really...”

  Rory shook his head, not needing Avery to finish. “We were young. You’re not the love of my life, Avery. We were two kids who messed around.”

  Ouch. Avery’s face stung as if he’d been slapped. He’d thought they were more than that. Hadn’t Rory demanded more than that?

  Holly returned. “Who wants a lime?"

  “So, what happened with Tim?” Rory asked as she handed out lime wedges and dropped back into the armchair.

  “Oh, God,” Holly groaned. “I forgot, with all the excitement of meeting your fiancé. You have a fiancé. Soooo crazy.”

  Avery stood. “And on that note, I should go.”

  Holly pouted. “Aw, but we haven’t even gotten to any embarrassing stories yet!”

  Avery smiled. “Sorry. I’ve got to work in the morning.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Rory grumbled.

  “Want me to drive her home?” he asked quietly as Rory walked him to the door.

  Rory glanced back, watching Holly do another shot. “Nah, she needs someone to watch over her. She can’t hold her liquor.”

  Avery hesitated. “Do you want me to stay?”

  Rory huffed a quiet laugh. “Don’t be silly. Holly’s my drunk friend, and you have to work in the morning.”

  “I could call in. My family owns the bank.”

  Rory opened the door and practically shoved him through it. “Now you’re just being mean.”

  Avery chuckled. “So, we’re good?”

  “Yeah. Passed our first test and didn’t even have to kiss.”

  The thought of that sent Avery’s pulse racing. To kiss those full lips again. “Too bad. Maybe next time.”

  He laughed at Rory’s surprised expression and walked away before he tried to put words to action. Rory would think he was teasing, and that was fine. Better, even.

  But as Avery climbed into his cold car and headed back to his empty bedroom in Bell Harbor, he ached for a kiss that would mean half as much as the one he’d had with a skinny, feisty kid in boarding school who challenged his every thought.

  6

  Avery’s footsteps began to slow as they approached the front door of the extravagant beach house on the coast of Bell Harbor. Tension fairly vibrated from him, and Rory hoped he wasn’t about to cave under the pressure.

  How many times has he tried to come out before giving in to his father’s wishes?

  He tugged Avery to a stop, gripping his shoulders and looking into his eyes. “Take a breath.”

  Avery inhaled deeply enough his chest rose, then exhaled in a rush.

  “Another, slower,” Rory ordered.

  Avery complied, some of the tension easing from the muscles under Rory's hands. “Sorry. Nervous.”

  “Understandable.” Rory smiled in an attempt to reassure him. He’d never seen Avery so vulnerable. In their teen years, Avery had the swagger of a rich, entitled kid. It’d made Rory crazy—and hot for some indecipherable reason. None of that ego was present now, though. Avery looked like someone about to walk to the gallows. “Let’s go over the plan once more.”

  Avery sagged a little and in a toneless voice said, “I tell him we’re engaged and call his bluff.”

  “And then?”

  “Best-case scenario, he withdraws his support from that legislation.”

  “And supports your coming out,” Rory added because he thought that was important. He didn’t want Avery to allow his father to use the legislation as a bargaining tool. “You should be free to live your life. Find a real fiancé.”

  Avery laughed ruefully. “I’d be pretty happy w
ith a real date, to be honest.”

  Rory grinned. “Baby steps, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Rory didn’t ask what happened if Avery’s father didn’t come through. They’d already discussed the possibility of taking this “relationship” public. The idea made Rory’s stomach twist with nerves, and he really hoped Avery’s father was smart tonight. Going the publicity route didn’t come without drawbacks. Their lie would be in the spotlight. Avery would be personally scrutinized, and if anyone found out the truth, Rory wouldn’t need to worry about his funding troubles: his job would be gone.

  Despite the risks, Rory was committed.

  “Are you ready?” he asked Avery. At the end of the day, he wasn’t the one with the most to lose. Avery was about to detonate a bomb in the middle of his life.

  “Yes,” Avery said, sounding steadier. He turned back toward the front door. “I’ve waited long enough, haven't I?”

  “You have,” Rory said, his resentment about the past softening a little at the beseeching tone to Avery’s voice. Rory had thought him cowardly when they were younger. He hadn’t understood why Avery was so afraid to be himself. But Rory had nothing but support at home, and always had, so it was difficult to relate.

  But now he was about to see it firsthand.

  He tossed out one more wish to the universe for Mr. Kinkaid to be smart and compassionate. But he held out little hope for either.

  Avery’s heart raced as he led Rory into the foyer, with its marbled flooring, high-dollar art on the walls, and the exorbitantly expensive chess set in the corner, with a table made of walnut and marble, the pieces a mix of bronze and obsidian. It was more than a little fitting, considering that Avery was about to engage in his own game of strategy with his father.

  “Wow, this is a beautiful place,” Rory said.

  Avery winced, imagining what Rory must think of all the blatant wealth around them—and this was just the foyer. Wait until he saw the high-end luxuries, the lush furnishings, the sheer amount of empty space that was wasted on two men. There was a full bar downstairs, along with an in-home theater. There was a fucking library, not that either of them made use of it. His mother had, he knew. She used to take him in there, read him children’s books, try to instill a love of the written word. But Avery had grown into too much a jock, interested in sports. With sports, he could impress his father, and that had always seemed vitally important when he was a boy. Hell, it was still important, even if Avery knew it wasn’t everything anymore.

  “I'll show you the silver spoon I was born with if Dad doesn’t kick us out,” he murmured.

  Rory chuckled. “Looking forward to seeing how the top ten percent lives.”

  Avery rolled his eyes. “No, you’re not.”

  To their left, a staircase led to the second-story hall leading to the master bedroom and bath, along with three guest rooms. Avery’s childhood room had been at the end of that hallway, but he’d since moved out to the carriage house in the backyard. He still lived here because… Well, because his father had suggested it would be a waste to spend money to buy a condo when he could have his own space right here.

  Avery had convinced himself he was being responsible—he wasn’t one of those people to throw their money around just because they could—but maybe the real reason was that he didn’t trust himself. With his own condo, he wouldn’t be able to resist hooking up more often, if only to remind himself of who he really was. He’d get sloppy and get himself outed.

  Avery led Rory into the great room, which was a gorgeous space with high, vaulted ceilings and a wall of windows on the far side that provided a spectacular view of the Maine coastline.

  Two cream-colored sofas faced one another, accented by pale blue pillows that matched the two blue accent chairs near them. In the middle, a low round coffee table held a vase of fresh flowers. Flowers that were maintained by a paid gardener but had originally been planted by his mother. She'd loved gardening, but none of the remaining Kinkaids had a green thumb.

  He felt a brief flare of regret. He should have tried to care for her flowers himself. Now, he might have to abandon the last connection he had to her.

  His father emerged from the hallway, which led to his study where he spent most of his time.

  “Avery,” he said in a booming voice. "Who is your…guest?”

  Avery could read in his father’s expression exactly what he thought of Avery bringing a man into his home. It was clear that he didn’t think Rory was a business colleague.

  “This is Rory Fisher,” Avery said.

  “Hello,” Drake said stiffly.

  “Nice to meet you,” Rory lied.

  “Rory is my fiancé.”

  His father blinked, and you could have heard a needle fall. The silence was thick with unsaid words. “I think I misheard you,” Drake said carefully.

  “Rory and I are engaged,” Avery said.

  His father chuckled, sounding rueful. “I’m not sure how that’s possible. Don’t you have to date first, and you wouldn’t have because you’re...” He trailed off.

  “In the closet?” Avery finished. “Because that’s how you’ve wanted it.”

  Drake’s face tightened. “We agreed that, for the sake of my re-election and your future in politics—”

  “I don't want a future in politics,” Avery said quietly. “And my closet was supposed to be temporary, not for as long as you continue to campaign.”

  “So, this is an ultimatum?” Drake challenged. “Who is this man, really? Some stranger you picked up in a bar? I’m not sure I want him in my house.”

  Avery didn’t like the way his father sneered in Rory’s direction. He wasn’t too far from the truth. Avery had made his initial proposal in a bar, but Rory wasn’t some cheap hookup. He was the first love of Avery’s life.

  “Don’t speak about him like that,” he said, the first tendrils of anger beginning to bleed into his voice. His nerves were giving way to the outrage that was always simmering beneath. “I’ve known Rory since boarding school.”

  His father looked disconcerted at that. “So, he’s a high school sweetheart?” he asked in disbelief. “Why haven’t I heard about him before?”

  Rory spoke up. “We couldn’t really be sweethearts. First, Avery was afraid to come out to you, and then when he did, you told him to stay in the closet. We had to sneak around, which wasn’t healthy, so eventually we broke it off.”

  Avery’s heart pounded, and he reached for Rory’s hand, needing an anchor. He knew Rory was just giving Drake their prepared story, but it was so damn close to the truth that it made his chest tighten with regret.

  “We’ve been on and off for years," Avery added. “Rory deserves better than to be a secret.” Avery caught his eye. “I’ve always regretted how I treated you back then.”

  Rory swallowed hard, his expression softening. “Thank you,” he said softly.

  “I mean it.”

  Rory smiled, just a slight curve of lips, but it lightened Avery’s guilt considerably. “I know.”

  “Well, then. I guess you’re engaged,” Drake said, sounding weary. “You can have a quiet ceremony. No press. No one has to know until we’re ready.”

  Avery was speechless at his father’s audacity. He was going to try to shove Rory into the closet right beside Avery.

  “You can’t hide my marriage,” Avery said. “You need to let me come out publicly, and you need to withdraw your support from that legislation.”

  “I’m not saying hide it, just don’t—” His father stopped. “Wait, the legislation about child placement agencies? I can’t do that. It’s a bipartisan effort, a compromise that works for the House and Senate.”

  “It’s not a compromise I want you to make,” Avery said. “You told me it wouldn’t affect me because no one knows I’m gay, and that it would be different if I had a fiancé waiting in the wings—”

  “So this is an ultimatum,” Drake said. “Well, I’m sorry, Avery. Fiancé or not, I can’
t withdraw from the bill. If I’d known you were engaged before I was already committed…but it’s a little late now.” He cast a skeptical look at Rory. “If this is even a true story you’re telling me.”

  “It’s never too late to do the right thing,” Rory said.

  Drake scoffed. “It’s not black and white. I’ve got a fair share of conservative constituents. I serve them, not you. Do you even live in this district?”

  “No,” Rory said, “but there are LGBTQ individuals in all districts, Senator.”

  “I live in this district,” Avery added. “And I’m your son. Don’t you even care about that?”

  “Of course I do,” Drake said, voice rising with frustration. “Why do you think I tried to keep you in the goddamned closet? No one needs to know this about you. It’ll only make your life harder!”

  “Well, the legislation you’re backing certainly makes his life harder,” Rory said coolly. “And mine. And thousands of others in this state. Senator Kinkaid, Avery could one day be denied the opportunity to adopt a child. Is that the world you want him to live in?”

  Avery’s dad scowled. “That’s the world he does live in. I tried to protect him from all that. I don’t know who you really are—”

  “Rory’s my—”

  “But,” Drake continued in a loud voice, “you won’t strongarm me into getting what you want.”

  “Okay, I think we’re done here,” Avery said flatly.

  “Sorry, kid. Your games won't work on me,” Drake said.

  “Yeah. Looks like you really were bluffing all those times you said I could come out soon,” Avery said, not bothering to disguise his bitter tone. “But that’s nothing I didn’t already know. I felt the need to give you one last chance, but I can’t say I’m surprised.”

  “Avery…”

  Avery held up a hand. “Don’t bother. You’ve made your priorities clear.” He turned to Rory. “I’m going to pack a few things if you don’t mind waiting? I’m not in the mood to stay here any longer than I have to.”