Faking A Groom (Marital Bliss Book 3)

by DJ Jamison

  “Did you want me to come?” Avery asked.

  “No. I’ll just try to get something set up. It’s better if I talk to her alone.”

  Avery nodded. “Okay, I’ll just…” He searched for something to do. “Meet up with a friend too.”

  Rory’s eyes narrowed on him. “Friend?”

  Avery couldn’t read his tone. It didn’t seem terribly pleased. “Gil. You met him at the pub the night I tried to propose.”

  Rory’s lips quirked at the memory. At least he was amused rather than playing dead, as he had been most of the trip home. “Ah, yes. So, I guess you have to tell him your drunken proposal worked its magic after all.”

  Avery didn’t bother explaining that Gil knew the truth. Rory was already opening the door, ready to leave. Avery grabbed his wallet and keys and followed him outside. “See you later?”

  “Yup.” Rory gave a backward wave of his hand.

  Avery sighed. From hot mouths and hands to a backward wave without so much as a glance. He ached at what he’d so quickly lost.

  He couldn’t stand the idea of waiting around the house, miserable, so he got into his car and pointed it toward Gil’s place.

  When he arrived at the little condo, he walked up the stairs and let himself in. He and Gil had been friends long enough that knocking wasn’t necessary. Usually, Gil would be on his computer, headphones on, unable to hear the doorbell.

  But today, he walked into something entirely different. Gil was laughing as an attractive, vaguely familiar man tickled his ribs. “Stop, Alec, stop! You’re going to— Oh! Avery.”

  They broke apart. Gil blushed—or was maybe just flushed from all that laughing and what was sure to have followed—and turned toward him.

  “Sorry,” Avery said. “Didn’t know you had company.”

  “It’s okay,” Gil said, still breathing hard. “Um, Avery, this is Alec. I don’t know if you’ve met him. He’s a new employee at your father’s office.”

  Avery stepped forward to shake hands. “I don’t think we’ve met. What do you do for my father?”

  Alec quirked a smile. “No, it’s nice to meet you. I’m just an errand boy, really, not a professional like Gil. But I couldn’t resist asking for his number when I saw him at the office.”

  Gil sounded charmingly bashful as he added, “I didn’t expect him to really call.”

  Well, wasn’t that sweet? Avery had utterly fucked up with Rory, all he wanted to do was bemoan his fate, and instead he was confronted with someone smart enough to grab onto a good thing in front of him, instead of ruin it.

  “Well, hell,” Avery said, burying his own issues for later, “break out the liquor. I need to toast the happy couple.”

  Gil looked embarrassed. “That’s really not necessary.”

  “Ah, I’ll get it, babe,” Alec said, dipping down to kiss his cheek. “We should let Avery wish us well.”

  Avery threw himself down on the couch once Alec left the room, raising his eyebrow. “Why didn’t you say anything to me? I’m supposed to vet your boyfriends, remember?”

  Ever since college, Avery had been Gil’s gauge of a guy’s intentions. He’d been burned by a few assholes, and he hadn’t trusted his own judgment.

  Gil joined him on the sofa, fidgeting. “I like Alec a lot.”

  “I can tell.”

  Gil kept his eyes on his hands as he picked at a loose thread on his sweater vest. “I didn’t want you to find anything wrong with this one.”

  Avery leaned in, throwing an arm around Gil’s shoulders. “Hey, I was only ever trying to help. If you don’t want my opinion—”

  “Not this time,” Gil said quickly.

  He glanced at Avery apologetically.

  “Even if he’s not perfect—and fuck, he really feels perfect—I want this while I can have it. You know what I mean? I just want to hold onto this feeling.”

  Avery’s chest squeezed. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I’m happy for you.”

  Gil exhaled a relieved breath. “Me too. Thanks.”

  When Alec returned with a bottle of cheap vodka, Avery didn’t even complain. He might as well have a hangover tomorrow to go with the gut-wrenching pain of knowing he’d fucked up a good thing before it could even begin.

  “Why do you want to talk to Mal?”

  Rory and Holly sat at a tapas bar, nibbling on delicious small plates of patatas bravas, calamares fritos, and solomillo con cabrales while sharing a pitcher of sangria. It was a familiar comfort that Rory needed right then. He and Holly had devoured more than their share of the Spanish cuisine—along with gallons of sweet sangria—over the years.

  “Avery is a senator’s son,” Rory said. “He figures his engagement will be news.”

  “His engagement to you,” Holly said.

  “Yeah.”

  She shook her head. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around that one. After the way he treated you back in school—”

  “I might have been bitter about that,” Rory said. “But come on, not everyone has a built-in support system. Everyone has to come out on their own schedule. I was maybe a little too hard on him. My standards can seem high.”

  Holly snorted. “Seem. Yeah. Your standards are sky high, no seem about it.” She took a gulp of her blood-red drink. “That’s why this whole thing feels strange. You never made a peep about dating this guy and suddenly you’re engaged.”

  Rory fought the urge to tell her everything. It was one thing to tell Caleb and Julien. They had been through something similar, kept similar secrets. But Holly’s brother was a reporter for a queer issues blog. There was no guarantee she wouldn’t let something slip.

  “I know it seems fast, but Avery is someone who has struggled with acceptance,” Rory said. “I kept it quiet for him, until he was ready. But now he has good reason to come out and to publicize our engagement.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Avery’s father is a senator, and he’s…not exactly a great LGBTQ ally right now. He’s backing something that Avery would rather see him drop.”

  “When are these old white men going to cut this bullshit!” Holly exploded. Rory had known he could count on her instinct to fight injustice. “Wait. What does this have to do with your engagement?”

  “If news comes out that Senator Kinkaid has a gay son engaged to be married, and that he’s pushing legislation that could negatively affect his own son…”

  “Ohhh, I get it,” Holly crowed. She was half-drunk already. Rory nudged one of the small plates toward her.

  “Eat,” he said.

  She rolled her eyes but scooped up a bite of patatas bravas before continuing with her mouth half full. “So, you wan’ Mal to wri’ it?”

  Rory sighed, smiling. Holly could be a mess, but she was his mess. They’d been besties since they’d met up at a local political activism group. Her brother Mal was gay, and Holly had been involved with PFLAG and other rainbow organizations since she was a teen. Their parents hadn’t been immediately supportive, so Holly had taken that on herself—standing shoulder to shoulder with Mal when he came out and telling her parents point-blank that she was on his side and always would be. They hadn’t been happy, but they’d promised to try to understand, and over time, they’d come to accept Mal’s sexuality.

  Rory had been so fucking proud to call Holly his friend after learning that story. Mal was a pretty decent guy, too, though Rory didn’t know him well. He hoped some of Holly’s fervor ran in his veins and he’d do this story justice. As a Gaily Planet reporter, he must care about LGBTQ issues. That’s mostly all they covered.

  “Do you think Mal will do it?” Rory asked.

  “Of course he will! He’ll be thanking me for days when I hand him this choice morsel. Don’t you worry. Mal is in our corner.”

  Our. Because Holly viewed them as a team.

  Rory felt more guilty for not telling her the truth. As soon as these articles came out, he promised himself he’d confess everything and take his lumps li
ke a big boy. Knowing Holly, she would be too forgiving. If it were Rory, he’d be pissed as hell and stepping onto the soapbox. But then Holly always had been a better person than him and he only hoped that asking forgiveness, rather than permission, didn’t cost him a very good friend.

  For Avery. For LGBTQ couples. For Equal Justice.

  He had a lot of reasons. But he still didn’t quite know if the ends justified the means.

  12

  Mal was short at five feet six inches tall but handsome with auburn hair and a splash of freckles over his nose. He and Holly were twins, and Rory had heard many complaints about all the comparisons to Raggedy Ann and Andy they’d endured as two redheaded children. It didn’t help that Holly’s hair was curly too. Mal appeared to avoid that particular difficulty by keeping his hair shorter, though it still curled a bit around his ears.

  Rory watched him enter the coffeeshop, where they’d agreed to meet for an interview, and nudged Avery. “That’s him,” he said.

  Avery rubbed his palms over his thighs. Rory imagined they were damp with sweat. When he’d arrived at the coffee shop, Avery had been vibrating as he paced and drank coffee. Rory had confiscated his half-empty cup and given him the best pep talk he could under the circumstances.

  They weren’t as comfortable with one another as they used to be, as they should be for the interview about to take place. That night on Bliss Island had turned them both inside out. They didn’t know how to be around each other, and so, they hadn’t been nearly as much. Rory found reasons to work past dinnertime — not hard at the Equal Justice League, where there was always more work to do — and Avery met business colleagues for drinks on the weekend. When they were in the house at the same time, they made awkward small talk.

  “The weather’s chilly today. If you go out, make sure you take a scarf.”

  “The highway was a nightmare. Traffic backed up. I think there was an accident.”

  It was as if they’d forgotten how to be the Rory and Avery who’d arrived at Bliss Island, not intimate or in love, but certainly fond of one another. Now, they were two actors who didn’t know their lines. And Rory really had no idea if they’d pull off this ruse unless something changed.

  They stood from the squashy couch they’d claimed in a little seating area in front of the large window. Rory waved his hand, and Mal caught his eye, smiling easily as he approached.

  “Rory, good to see you again,” he said, leaning in to give him a quick squeeze. They’d known each other in passing for years, but they’d never gotten close. Holly had threatened to set them up once or twice, but the timing had never been right.

  “Thanks for doing this,” Rory said. “This is Avery.”

  “Avery Kinkaid,” Mal said, with a nod as he extended a hand to shake. “I’ve spoken to your father once or twice for stories. He’s a charismatic guy.”

  “He knows how to turn on the charm,” Avery agreed.

  “I’m going to grab a coffee,” Mal said. “Then we can get started. Either of you want anything?”

  They’d both gotten drinks when they arrived, and Avery didn’t need any more caffeine, so they declined and retook their seats while Mal went up to the counter.

  “How well do you know him?” Avery asked while they waited, his eyes on Mal, who was texting on his phone while waiting for his order.

  “Well enough,” Rory said. “He’s a good guy.”

  Avery huffed. “Handsy, though. I thought maybe …”

  Rory side-eyed him. Was Avery jealous?

  That was utterly ridiculous. Rory couldn’t think of any man but Avery since their night on Bliss, and Mal and he had absolutely no history.

  Rory missed the feel of Avery’s lips after only one night of possessing them. Not the kisses of their youth, either, but the fiery, skilled passion that had swept them both away. Rory’s pride wouldn’t allow him to kiss Avery again, not after Avery called their night together a hookup, acted like it was no big deal, and then went uber macho with his dick. Rory might have bottomed for him in different circumstances; he wasn’t totally inflexible on that point. But he had no intention of doing it when he wasn’t convinced Avery even wanted that.

  “You thought what?” Rory said, unwilling to let Avery off the hook. He wanted Avery to admit what he was really thinking. To admit that he felt something about that night, that Rory wasn’t the only one floundering in its wake.

  Avery didn’t answer. He squirmed in his seat, drumming his fingers on the table beside him until Rory clamped a hand over his.

  “Sorry,” Avery murmured.

  “Do you want to ask me something?”

  Avery’s eyes darted between Rory and Mal, who was receiving his drink and headed their way.

  “No,” Avery said at last. “He’s interviewing us, and I just wanted to know how well you knew him. So I’d know what to expect.”

  Rory didn’t believe that for a minute, but he could answer it easily enough.

  “I know him well enough to trust him. That’s what’s important, right? That he take this interview and do it justice.”

  Avery couldn’t argue because Mal returned, sinking into a square, blue armchair across from them. A low coffee table covered in magazines sat between them. “So, Holly didn’t tell me much, but she did say you requested me for your engagement announcement. I don’t usually write articles about engagements, Rory, but since you’re a family friend, I thought I’d at least hear you out.”

  It hadn’t occurred to them the engagement wouldn’t be newsworthy on its own. Rory knew that Avery was hoping to avoid sharing news of the legislation. He wanted to give his father one more chance to do the right thing. He hoped news of his engagement would bring reality home for Drake Kinkaid and he’d pull his support from the bill on his own.

  Rory didn’t hold out the same hope, but he’d agreed with Avery that they could try it his way. But what if Mal didn’t go for it?

  Avery cleared his throat. “Well, you know who I am.”

  Mal flipped open a notebook and read out, “Avery Kinkaid, son to state Senator Drake Kinkaid, vice president of Kinkaid Banking.” He glanced up. “MBA in business, bachelor’s in poly sci.”

  “You did your homework.”

  Mal tipped his head. “I found no evidence you’d ever dated a man.”

  “Because I haven’t. Dated, I mean. I’ve been in the closet,” Avery said, swallowing hard. Rory found himself reaching for Avery’s hand, squeezing it in support, despite his discontent with their current situation. Avery shot him a grateful look. “My father knows. Has known for years. But he asked me to wait for the right timing. There was always another election around the corner, or political leverage he needed to maintain.”

  “And now?” Mal asked, his eyes sharp and interested, despite his claim that he didn’t report engagement news. Rory suspected he sensed a deeper story here about the senator.

  “I got tired of waiting,” Avery said. “It’s why I lost Rory.”

  “Lost Rory?” Mal said. “Aren’t you two engaged?”

  Avery faltered, and Rory interjected quickly. “We first met in boarding school. We fell apart when Avery couldn’t come out. Over the years, we’ve come back together. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t move on.”

  “Neither could I,” Avery said quietly.

  There was the ring of truth in his voice. Rory’s heart skipped a beat. They’d had such potential once, and they’d lost it all. They’d been so close to finding their way to something truly special on Bliss Island, something even more than they’d had as two fumbling teens. Could they really afford to let it go?

  Mal continued to ask questions, mostly of Avery, and he answered. A lot of it was background. Avery shared his original coming out story. He shared his fears about being outed, the isolation and loneliness it caused. He bared his soul—and every word hurt Rory’s heart a little more. He’d judged Avery so harshly, and it hadn’t been right.

  He knew it wasn’t easy for Avery to make
himself so vulnerable, either. At its core, wasn’t that why Avery had freaked out and acted the dick on Bliss Island? He’d been naked in more than flesh for Rory, and that had clearly scared him. Yet, here he was, stripping himself down not just for Mal, but for the masses that might read his story.

  The Gaily Planet was a blog that cared about LGBTQ issues, at least. Rory knew Mal would treat Avery’s story sensitively—if he chose to write it. That was still a question, because Mal had prefaced all this by saying he didn’t write engagement news.

  Finally, Rory couldn’t listen to anymore of Avery’s pain without ensuring it was worthwhile. “Will you write the story?”

  Mal tapped his pen against his notebook. He’d also hit the record button on his phone, with their permission. “To be honest, I’m trying to determine what the story might be.”

  At Avery’s chagrin, he added, “A lot of ideas are swirling through my mind, but I have to be honest, Avery. This is only newsworthy because it reflects on Senator Kinkaid.” Avery flinched, but Mal wasn’t done. “It reflects his intolerance. It’s not a good look for someone who’s previously said he supports the LGBTQ community.” He stared Avery down. “I suspect you’re a big part of the reason he’s said that, but his words and his votes have never lined up.”

  “What do you mean?” Avery said. “He’s never supported anti-LGBTQ legislation before. I would know.”

  “Actually, he has,” Mal said. “I don’t have the specifics in front of me, and he’s always been careful to backtrack if it gets too much attention, but yes, he’s supported some questionable measures. Most of them didn’t pass, so perhaps that’s why you didn’t know. Or perhaps it was while you were away at college.”

  Avery nodded, looking numb. “I guess I just assumed…”

  Rory wrapped an arm around Avery. All the discomfort and awkward tension disappeared when he saw Avery hurting like this. He pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’m sorry, love.”

  “It’s not like I didn’t know… This is why we’re doing this, right?”