“I hate you,” he said, glaring down at his wife.

“You know that you don’t mean that,” she said, giving his cheek a condescending pat before she dropped her hands away.

“Oh, but I really do,” he said, glaring down at her even as he smiled that smile that he knew she would interpret correctly.

Her eyes narrowed in an assessing manor as she glared right back up at him, obviously trying to decide if it was worth pushing him on this matter. After a minute and a groan, she reached back up, cupped his face rather violently, yanked him down and kissed him, right there in front of his mother and for the world to see.

Christ, he loved this woman.

He never wanted to let her go and if he had his way, he never would. Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss as his arms came around her generously curved body and pulled her close. For six years he’d waited patiently for the day when he was allowed to hold her in public like this and now that he had her in his arms he would do anything to whisk her back to their room where he’d pull her closer, kiss her harder, strip her out of her clothes and of course, get away from the crazed woman hitting him with her purse!

“Ow! Why the hell are you hitting me, woman?” he demanded with a wince as he stepped away from his wife and ducked out of the way of the next swing.

“Marybeth is your best friend and deserves better than to be dragged into this!” she hissed as she glared daggers at him. “If you’re not comfortable admitting who you are, that’s fine, but you do not drag sweet Marybeth into this!”

Too stunned to speak, he glanced down at his wife only to find her biting back a yawn as she glanced over her shoulder towards the hotel gift shop. “I’m going to go grab something to drink,” she muttered, sounding bored while he stood there somehow resisting the urge to drag her over his lap and spank her beautiful ass.

“Oh, a drink sounds like a wonderful idea,” his mother said, smiling approvingly before she murmured a goodbye to Patrick and shot him a pitying look and walked off, leaving him with the man still staring up at him.

“I’m not gay,” he said, for some reason needing to say the words.

“No, no of course you’re not,” Patrick murmured, not really sounding like he meant it.

“I’m not.”

Patrick blinked up at him. “Of course you’re not.”

Eyes narrowing on the placating bastard, he snapped, “I’m not!”

Patrick cleared his throat uncomfortably before he explained with a helpless shrug, “Look, you don’t have to worry about it. I didn’t want to hurt your mother’s feelings, but you’re really not my type.”

He snorted at that, he really had to. “Like you ever had a chance with me.”

“Sorry, I’m just not into….,” he started to say, only to let his words trail off as he gestured lazily towards Darrin and gave him another one of those damn shrugs that was really starting to piss him off.

Before he could sprout any more bullshit, and they both knew that he was full of shit, Darrin held up his hand and shook his head with a long, sad sigh, “Let’s not play this game since we both know that I’m way out of your league.”

“Butch is out,” Patrick said with a shrug as he pulled his phone out, clearly dismissing him, but he refused to be dismissed, especially by this little bastard lying his ass off.

“I’m not butch,” he bit out, glaring down at the bastard giving him the brush off.

“Uh huh, whatever you say,” Patrick murmured, absently shooting him an indifferent smile before he returned his attention back to the small cellphone in his hands.

“I’m not!”

“Okay, you’re not.”

“I’m a fucking catch!”

“Sure you are.”

“You only wish that you could get someone like me,” Darrin snapped, not really caring that the other man had moved on.

“Every single second of the day,” Patrick murmured dryly, clearly mocking him, but Darrin decided to pretend that he hadn’t heard his sarcastic tone.

“That’s right. You do,” he said firmly, shifting his attention away from the poor bastard who just couldn’t seem to accept that Darrin was off limits to him and glanced around the lobby until he found his wife and the other lying bastard that he was going to have to deal with.

Chapter 32

“Why are you sitting on my lap?” Aidan asked even as he wrapped his arm loosely around her waist and helped himself to one of her chips.

“Because I needed to talk to you,” she explained, handing him the small bag of chips so that she could take a sip of her root beer.

“And you couldn’t do that from the comfort of your own chair?” he asked as he stole another chip.

“No,” she simply said as she reached in the bag and grabbed a chip.

“And why’s that?” he asked, waiting patiently for her to move her hand away so that he could grab another chip.

“Because your mother’s apparently playing matchmaker and this seemed like the most effective way to get her to give us a little privacy,” she announced with a careless shrug as she grabbed another chip.

Aidan went completely still as he shot a frantic look towards his mother, back to her and then over to Darrin who seemed to be trying to convince Patrick of something until he finally looked back at her. “Oh God, Darrin’s going to kill me.”

“Probably,” she murmured in agreement as she glanced back at the gift shop and contemplated getting another bag of chips, but just as quickly dismissed it and decided to grab something to eat when they left the hotel.