“Of course,” I assured her. In my head, I was thinking,I give it a few days, a week tops.
Avery showered while I pulled on my pants and went out into the suite. In the late-morning light, the random inflatable sex-balloon objects looked even worse.
“Honestly, Archer.” I shook my head as I picked up my phone from where I had left it.
Archer:*Sunglasses emoji* You can’t tell me this wasn’t a hit.
Blade:You have problems.
Archer:But from the fact that you mysteriously did not answer my last text message until now, I’d say that I solved several of your problems.
My heart skipped a beat for a second. Archer couldn’t know that Avery and I weren’t actually in love. I forced myself to remain calm and composed. He was just trying to bait me.
Archer:Enjoy your breakfast.
There was a knock on the door. A bellhop wheeling a cart with several metal domes on it greeted me. I thanked him, tipped him, then pushed the cart into the room. Avery came out of the bedroom smelling like lavender as I inspected the food.
“I’m starving,” she said, wrapping her arms around me and nuzzling her nose against my bare chest.
“For food? Or,” I said, tipping her head up and kissing her, “something else?”
“I just showered,” she complained. “And I have to go meet my grandmother and family for wedding planning, so unfortunately, I don’t have time for you to try and convince me to break the rules again.” She scooped a ham-and-cheese crepe onto her plate along with an over-easy egg.
“How long are you going to be there?” I asked as we sat at the small table by the window. “I was only planning on spending a couple hours with my brothers, but I suppose I can stay there all day depending on when you think you’re going to leave.”
“Don’t bother waiting for me,” she said. “I may spend the night until Monday. I’m not sure. I need to put in some face time with my grandmother. I don’t want her to give the house to Cassie.”
“Couldn’t Cassie just move her wedding date and beat you to the house?” I asked as I took a bite of bacon.
“She could,” Avery said grimly, “but I’m banking on the fact that she, A, won’t want a shotgun courthouse wedding, and B, is super convinced that she’s going to expose me as a fraud.”
She blew out a breath. “I’m not going to think about her until I have to see her later today. What are you and your brothers going to do?”
“They’re probably going to harass me about the bachelor party and honeymoon planning.”
“Ooh, where are we going?”
“I was going to surprise you,” I said.
“It better not be camping,” she joked then took a look at my face and said, “Oh my god, no!”
“What’s wrong with camping? Camping is fun!” I protested.
“Camping is not fun, and it is not a honeymoon. Nothing that is worse than normal life can be considered a vacation. I don't work all year so I can pretend I'm homeless for three days.”
“I thought you were already homeless,” I joked. “You slept in the office that one time.”
“I slept in the office,” she countered waving her knife at me, “because Edward brought his hookup back to our room and told me not to come back.”
“But camping is slow and relaxing,” I protested.
“You have to build your own hotel, hike for a toilet, or,” she shuddered, “dig a hole in the ground. Then it will inevitably rain.”
“It’s magical when you wake up at sunrise, unzip a tent door, and are hit with a wave of cold, fresh air. Stoking the fire, boiling coffee, and cooking bacon and eggs over a fire—it’s great!”
“Clean toilets, comfy beds, hot showers, internet,” she said flatly. “You can’t say that indoor plumbing isn’t great, especially someone who likes his fancy cars and nice suits.”
“Yes, but I hate people more than I like flushable toilets and Netflix.”
