Page 73 of Without Judgment

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Mason

I was sore. More specifically, my dick was sore from having too much sex. I hadn’t known there was such a thing. But since the truck yesterday, we’d been insatiable. Now, heading into the evening, I cooked dinner following another round in the lake. I took note of the way Avery sat down gingerly on the chair. The only break we’d taken today was when we’d driven into town for cell service. Awkward as it was, I’d needed to check in with her father again.

The sex was incredible, but if I was hurting, I knew she had to be. “You sore, princess?” I was making hamburgers in the skillet.

“Not too bad.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see her blushing. Which made me hard. Fuck. Instead of curing my desire for her, these last two days had only magnified my unquenchable appetite for her—her moans, her gasps, her beautiful face when she was coming. All of it. I even craved the conversation and easy silences between us. Here I’d thought she’d talk my ear off, but instead, she appeared content with quiet evenings. I found the silence made our conversations that much more meaningful. Yesterday, I’d waited for signs she was taking things too seriously. Hell, I’d almost panicked when the checkout girl had questioned how long we’d been together. But once Avery had given no indication she was thinking of a future beyond these four walls, I felt my anxiety ease. Frankly, being off grid with her for the last couple days had left me the most relaxed I’d felt in years. And she continued to take the nightmares away.

Yes, I was enjoying our time together, but I also knew it was running short. And then there was the subject of her father. I needed to tell her what he’d said during today’s call despite knowing it wouldn’t make her happy.

“Your dad wants to hear your voice next time to verify you’re okay.” He hadn’t been a prick about it. God knows, he could’ve threatened to send someone to track her down, but he hadn’t. Instead, he’d asked to hear her voice to confirm she was all right. He’d promised to stay quiet and not say anything if it’s what she preferred. I think we both knew that would be impossible. But I could sense the man’s desperation. He badly wanted to communicate with his daughter.

“Fine. I’ll leave him a voicemail, but I’m not ready to speak to him yet.”

I pulled the skillet from the fire, putting it onto the small wooden counter. Family dynamics were a bitch, and I knew all too well what it was like to have a strained relationship with a loved one. “The longer you go without talking to him, the harder it gets.”

Her expression grew thoughtful. “When did you last speak with your dad?”

Normally, I shut the subject down, but I’d be a hypocrite to urge her to speak with her father and then tell her it was none of her business when it came to mine.

“When I returned from Iraq, I called to let him know I was stateside.”

“But you didn’t see him?”

“No. He offered to fly out, but I had a lot going on.”

“I bet he was worried about you over there.”

He’d emailed me at least once a week. I’d answered with the very basics. Weather was hot. Chow was okay. Gear was heavy. He, in turn, would tell me about his stepsons, Patrick and Seth. His wife, Bonnie, and their two dogs. He’d say he missed me and wanted me to come visit him in Arizona, but all I saw was he’d started over with a new family. Evidently, even after all these years, I wasn’t over him moving on so quickly. “I guess he was.”

“You should invite him up here to the cabin for a weekend. For old time’s sake. Bet you’d both love that.”

I’d thought about it, but he was involved with the boys’ sports and always seemed to have things going on. “He’s pretty busy.”

“So are you. But you make time for people you love.”

I frowned. “How did this conversation conveniently turn from you wanting to punish your father to me going fishing with mine?”

She shrugged. “I’m not punishing him. Or maybe I am a little. I don’t know. Maybe I can own up to it. If you can.”

“What?”

“You. You don’t talk to your father or visit because you’re punishing him for moving on too soon from your mom.”

I had to fight my temper. Although I could perhaps admit it to myself, being called on my shit wasn’t something I appreciated. It was the reason I didn’t let people get close. It had been a mistake to tell her anything. “That’s a hell of a judgment, princess.”

She stood up and crossed the distance to me, putting her hand on my chest. “Not unlike the one you’re giving me. Truth?”

I swallowed hard, both at her touch and because I was hesitant to hear what she’d say. “Always.”

“You don’t ask your father to come up here and spend time with you because you’re afraid. You’re afraid he might say no. It’s easier to avoid rejection by not taking the risk.”

If my internal thoughts had a bullseye, she’d hit it.

“As for me, I’m not ready to speak to my father because I’m afraid the apology will fall way short. Then I’ll never be able to forgive him for putting his campaign above me. Same difference. It’s about the fear of getting hurt.”

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