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“Think he’s a drug dealer?” I asked. From what little I’d heard, it sounded pretty cut and dry.
The guy shrugged. “Seems that way, but I’ve learned the hard way about jumping to conclusions.”
“Thought you had too,” Patrick said, giving me a pointed look.
I shrugged. When my family did it about me it was different than when I did it to other people.
The man slapped his thighs and stood. “That’s it. I’ll be in touch when I have something else.”
“Rude much?”I asked the second he was out the door.
“What have I done now?” He ripped off a bite of chicken with his teeth.
“Let me have some of that.”
“No. I’m rude, remember?”
“Were you embarrassed to introduce me?” I plucked a piece of the meat from his plate.
“This from the person who thinks the idea of being married to me is the end of the world.” He snatched an olive off of my salad.
“Hey. I had just the amount I wanted.” He made a show of dropping it into his mouth. “I wonder why no one would want to be in a relationship with you.”
“Who bailed you out today when you didn’t have anybody else to keep Blake? That’s shitty husband material, right?”
“Why are you so sensitive about this? Have you run out of women in this city?” I pushed the salad away from me. Jealousy streaked through me so hot and fast I didn’t know what to do with it. “I’m sorry you had to bail me out.”
I gathered Blake’s things.
“But not for insinuating I’m a womanizing prick who would be an even worse father?”
Is it possible to keep my temper in check around this man?And why did it bother me I’d hurt his feelings?
“Why do you care?” My anger won out because I knew what to do with that.
“I don’t,” he said stiffly. “Thanks for the education. Now I’m certain I don’t want to be saddled with a wife or kids.”
Especially if they’re like us.My eyes stung. No, damn it. Patrick Whitley would not get my tears.
“Come on, baby.” I picked Blake up out of the playpen. “Mommy loves you so much,” I whispered into his hair.
His tiny arms hugged me back. I had my son and he was all I needed.
“Whatever you did to piss off your father, you better fix it,” he said when I’d nearly made it out the door. “Because you’re running out of people who give a shit.”
Chapter Sixteen
Patrick
“Hi,baby. I’ve been calling you.”
I shuddered as Monica ran her nails across my shoulders.
“Been busy,” I said, tossing back the remaining whiskey in my glass.
“Not too busy to come out tonight,” she pouted.
“Nope. Guess I wasn’t.” I channeled my inner-Marlow to find the asshole down deep. Wait. No. I wasn’t thinking about Wicked. Not at all.
