Will & Patrick Wake Up Married (16 page)

Will grits his teeth.

A moment later the sofa dips and Will looks up. Patrick’s kneeling on the floor next to him, elbows on the edge of the sofa, and eyebrows drawn together in something that might be worry.

“Look, how can I put this so you’ll understand? You’ve been more stressed out than usual the last few days, which can mess with how you metabolize food, and I don’t want to have to deal with your corpse, okay? I face off with death every day in my job, and I don’t want it invading the confines of my fake happy marriage.”
Despite his words, Patrick sounds surprisingly gentle.

“It’s not that. If I thought I needed insulin or food, I’d be the first to admit it.”

“Oh, really? Because there was this guy on the airplane with me yesterday moping about how he didn’t know if anything was ‘worth it’ anymore.”

Will flushes at Patrick mocking his moment of weakness.
“You don’t have to worry.”

“Who said anything about worry? You could keel over anytime and I’d be a free man. It’s the mess of it that gets to me. And the Molinaros. If they’re this whack about you being happy in your marriage, I don’t want to know what they’d do to the husband that let you die on his watch and, I suppose, since there was no pre-nup, inherited your vast fortune. Then again, just think of all the gamma knives I could buy with all your pretty money.”

Will stares at Patrick.

“Oh.” Patrick lifts a brow. “You’re only just now thinking of that? You should be thanking your lucky stars I’m a respectable man. After all, I’m a doctor. I own scalpels and have access to poisons. I wield power over life and death.”

Will’s nearly completely sure Patrick’s screwing with him, but a fine sweat breaks on his forehead. Patrick cracks a smile. “Your face, Will. Don’t ever play poker. You’ll lose.”

Will swallows. “You play? Poker?”

“Nope. Prefer chess. You?”

“Both. I’m pretty good, actually. At chess. Not poker.”

“Yeah, I believe that. Okay, so out with it. You’re keeping something back from me. If it’s about your visit with Granny, I have a right to know.”

Will sits up and runs a hand through his hair. He pats the sofa next to him and Patrick moves up into the spot. “It’s not that. I ran into Ryan.”

“It’s a small town. Bound to happen.”

Will exhales noisily. “He was with Hartley.”

Patrick nods.

“God, Ryan’s such a dick.”

“Yup.”

“You don’t know him.”

“I’m just agreeing with my husband.”

Will laughs bitterly. “Yeah. Okay.” He rubs a hand in his hair. “I guess when Ryan told me he needed space, he just meant space from me. They were practically fused together.”

“I’m glad they weren’t literally fused together. That can be messy.”

Will snorts. “Well, from what I overheard, they may have been literally fused last night. Though Ryan doesn’t like to…” He pauses, not sure if it’s okay to reveal this information about his ex. “He doesn’t enjoy penetration. Either way.”

“To each his own.”

“Right. It doesn’t matter. But they’re together and have been intimate in some way. I heard enough to know that. And it had been ages since Ryan even held my hand.”

“Ouch. It’s like the hits just keep on coming, don’t they? Makes you wonder what you did to deserve it.”

“Are you saying I
deserve
to be unhappy, Patrick?” Will asks, a weird mix of emotions rocking through him. It’s not like he doesn’t think it’s true. It just hurts to hear someone besides Ryan actually have the nerve to say it.

Patrick shifts a little and doesn’t meet his eye for a moment. “I’m an asshole, Will. You haven’t taken anything I’ve said seriously for our entire two days of marriage, and
now
you’re going to start?”

Will can tell Patrick wishes he could take it back. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he does. Something about the way Patrick holds his shoulders and rubs his hand over his nose.

“I’m
saying
I don’t like being held hostage,” Patrick mutters.

But they aren’t even talking about that at all. He thinks this is Patrick’s form of an apology, stunted as it is. “So, what? You’re saying you said that because you’re
grumpy
? Or because you’re just plain mean?”

“Take your pick, Will. I don’t do heart to hearts.”

“Could’ve fooled me. Ever since we woke up together, all you’ve done is talk about your
feelings
. How you don’t
like
this situation, or me, or this hotel, or the town, and how you’re
hungry
, and tired, and angry. You’re just a big ball of seething emotions. And all you do is talk about them. You know what you need, don’t you?”

“A divorce.”

“No. A chill pill.” Patrick looks at him like he’s an idiot. Will doesn’t care. “A chill pill, or a
nap
. Little Paddy’s tired and being a jerk again. Time for his nappy-wappy.”

“Little Paddy? Nappy-wappy? That’s the best you could come up with?”

“Maybe I need a nap too. Sorry if I don’t have my best material.”

Patrick makes a face but doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. He gets up and grabs two water bottles. Will’s just reclining on the sofa again when Patrick forces him back up by acting like he’s going to sit on Will’s head. Will sighs as Patrick kicks his feet up on the table across from the sofa. Their shoulders brush together, and he hates the tingle that shoots through him.

“So, Ryan’s banging this Hartley kid.” Patrick hands Will one of the bottles, indicating with his head that he should drink it. “Why? Is he hot? It can’t be that.
You’re
hot. And you’ve got money too. Does this Hartley have money?”

“No. He lives out on the rez. His family’s not quite at poverty level, but they’re not well-to-do by far.” The water is cool and calming going down.

“Okay, so it’s not an ambition thing. You said this guy is younger than Ryan, right? And you’re younger than Ryan too?”

“Yeah, but not by much.”

“Maybe it’s a power thing for him. Ego.”

“Really? You want to play therapist now?”

“I’m bored.” Patrick shrugs.

“There’s a TV and a computer.”

“Everything on the TV is mind-numbing and, as far as the internet goes, frankly, I’m all porned out.”

Will wrinkles his nose. “Gross.”

“So, go on. What happened?”

“Well…” Ah, hell. He might as well tell him. Like it or not, they’re in this thing together. “I uh, did something kind of stupid.”

“Well, you’re on a roll for stupid. Hate to break the streak.” Patrick takes a drink of his water, his long throat bobbing with each swallow.

Will ignores how that makes his heart skip and goes on. “I told them about you.” His stomach churns like someone poured battery acid into it and then stuffed a toilet plunger down his throat. “I said I was in love with you, that you’re my husband, and that we’re very happy together.”

Patrick frowned. “And? Why is that stupid? I thought that was the plan.”

“It was! But when I saw them together like that, I—I don’t know. I just lost my temper. I told them that you’re
crazy
in love with me, that you’re the
love of my life
, and that I’m
ecstatic
to be married to you. I sounded insane.”

There’s a flash of something soft in Patrick’s eyes, but it’s gone a moment later. “That’s probably a good thing.”

“Excuse me? We’re back to you insulting me now?”

“No. What you told him. About us being in love. It’s a good thing.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, because I don’t think he believed me. I mean, he clearly thought I was drunk or high or plain crazy.” Will pulls his hair with both hands. “I mean, God! Could I mess this up any more?”

“Sure you could. Probably without even trying.”

“You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to be your entertainment.” He picks up the sofa cushion. “Get off my bed. I’m going to take a nap.”

Patrick stands up, stretches, and lets his arms drop to his side. “Well, like I said, it’s probably all good. It fits our plan perfectly.”

Will avoids looking at him. He hits the cushion a few times and settles onto his side, closing his eyes, determined to sleep for a few hours before he really, truly has to face his mom.

Patrick keeps talking. “Stop fretting, puddin’-pop. Once this mess is cleared up, you’ll win your man back. Not that you should want him, but to each their own.”

Will remains quiet.

“Happy with that plan?”

“Yeah,” Will says dryly. “I’m ecstatic.”

“Good.” Bed sheets rustle. “Because I’ve heard unhappy jailers are the worst, and you’re bad enough as it is.”
 

There’s a cell phone ringing out of control. Will jerks up on the sofa, rubbing his aching neck, when something hard hits him in the shoulder.

“Yours,” Patrick says, his voice crusted with sleep. “Make it stop.”

Will yawns, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He glances at the clock on the microwave by the mini-bar. It’s almost five in the afternoon.
Crap.
He checks the caller ID on his phone and cringes. He isn’t surprised. Someone’s told her by now.
And
, even if they haven’t, it’s been almost three days since he last called her, which is kind of a record. Still, he doesn’t want to answer. It goes to voicemail, only to start ringing again moments later.

“Make it stop,” Patrick growls from the bed.

Will shoots him a look, but Patrick’s got his head buried under a pillow. He looks awfully cozy in that big bed. His long, sinewy back is on display, jolting memories of those muscles playing under Will’s hands as Patrick had thrust into him only two nights before.

The phone goes to voicemail. Immediately, it rings again. With a deep breath, he swipes the screen.

“Hey, Mom.”

“William Patterson, what have you done?”
 

THE END

Tune in November 10, 2015 for
Will and Patrick Meet the Family
!

(Order now by
CLICKING HERE
!)

and

Will and Patrick Do the Holidays
on November 24, 2015

(Order now by
CLICKING HERE
!)
 

About the Author

Author of the bestselling book Smoky Mountain Dreams and the fan favorite Training Season, Leta Blake's educational and professional background is in psychology and finance, respectively. However, her passion has always been for writing. She enjoys crafting romance stories and exploring the psyches of made up people. At home in the Southern U.S., Leta works hard at achieving balance between her day job, her writing, and her family.
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Alice Griffiths

A long-time reader of romance novels, Alice Griffiths finally took the plunge into writing, teaming up with best-selling author Leta Blake for the ‘Woke up Married’ serialized comedy. A lover of tropes, Alice enjoys mining old ideas and putting a fresh, funny spin on them. Formerly working in the newspaper industry, Alice is now an art curator. She lives in Sydney, Australia.

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