Chapter Eleven
But it doesn’t feel like love is winning the next morning when he and Will wind up sitting across from Angelica and Tony over breakfast in one of the resort’s large, peach-colored dining rooms.
“So, I figured why not get married while I’m down here working out this deal for a new casino.” Tony smiles winningly, and his handsome hazel eyes gleam in the morning light.
“Mmm,” Patrick says around his mouthful of pancake-wrapped bacon. He digs in for another bite, partially because he’s starving, and the bacon’s really good, but also to keep his snarking to a minimum. Will’s already unraveling at the seams, he can tell. He doesn’t want something he says to be the thing that sends Will into a meltdown.
“Angelica has never been married, so I offered to show her the ropes,” Tony says, winking at his bride.
She’s as young as Patrick initially thought the night before. Maybe younger. Her teeth and eyes have the shine of youth. And her breasts, with the nipples visible through the light, cream-colored sundress, are perkier than the meringue tips on the banana pudding she’s eating. She’s a tight young thing, and Tony is a pervert and a half to be tapping that.
Not that Patrick has any right to pass judgment about age differences in love affairs. But he and Will aren’t even ten years apart. Tony and Angelica must be close to twenty.
“What do you do for a living, Angelica?” Will asks with a tense smile, clearly trying to keep the conversation from turning into an elaboration on whatever Tony meant by showing the girl the ropes.
“I dance,” she says, tossing her blond hair over her shoulder and grinning widely.
Will takes a moment to digest this announcement, rubbing at his golden morning stubble, left unshaven at Patrick’s insistence that they head down to breakfast before he keeled over dead from starvation. “Dance. How interesting. Ballet or…modern?”
“Lap.”
Will chokes on the water he’s sipping. Tony laughs, throwing his head back and exposing his long neck. When Patrick has to talk to him, he grows less and less attractive, but when the man just shuts up and exists, he’s downright fine. Hopefully Will is going to age half as well.
Angelica giggles. “I learned from the best stripper on Oahu. Millie the Fierce. Do you know of her? She’s amazing. She dances at Hawaii By Night. Have you been?”
“No,” Will whispers, taking up his water again and gulping half of it down. His monitor alarms and he looks down at the numbers, frowns, checks his pump, and then focuses on Angelica again. His cheeks flush and sweat shines on his forehead.
“We’re gay,” Patrick says. “Remember? Papa Molinaro here told you last night. Strip clubs and Millie aren’t our jam.”
“Oh, but we have some handsome men who dance there too.” She smiles widely again, somehow completely innocent of how absurd everything about this conversation is. But such is Patrick’s life since he woke up married.
“Oh?” Patrick asks, his interest perking up. “Men, you say? Tell me more.”
Will kicks him under the table as Angelica answers, “They’re all so handsome! Buff and strong. Slim and trim. We cater to all types at Hawaii by Night!”
“Wait,” Will says, pushing his half-eaten breakfast away. “How did you…when did you…” He shakes his head, rubs a hand over his face and tries again. “When did you meet, exactly?”
“Oh, last week.” Tony grins. “I flew in to Oahu for a few days before I needed to meet with my contacts regarding the casino deal I’m working on here. I have a small operation going in the nightclubs on Oahu. Just a little pain pill business—” He waggles his brows.
Will shakes his head. “I don’t want to hear about that.”
Tony shrugs. “While I was checking in on my investment at Hawaii By Night, I met Angelica, and the rest is history.” He tweaks one of Angelica’s blond locks and she smiles prettily at him.
“Love at first sight?” Patrick snipes.
“Of course not!” Angelica laughs. “He’s in love with someone named Kimberly. Duh. I’m just for fun.”
Will’s face goes pale and he shakes his head. “You’re for fun? You’re a human being! You’re for…a lot of things! But you’re not ‘just for fun’!”
“Oh, but I like it.” She cocks her head at Will, her copper-brown eyes shining. “He’ll enjoy me and when he’s done with me, I’ll go away. He’ll let me keep this ring.” She raises up the honking big diamond taking up half her finger again. “It’ll get me enough in pawn to go back to college. Right, Tony?” She takes Tony’s hand before she leans forward and whispers confidentially, “It’s a mutually beneficent thing.”
“Beneficial. Mutually beneficial,” Patrick can’t help but correct.
“That’s what I said.” She glows. “Tony is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Will stares at her with wide eyes. Then he turns to his father, holding out his hands like he’s seeking some kind of reason in this madness. “So…help me understand. Why get married? Couldn’t you just give her money for college and sleep with her?”
“I’m not a prostitute,” Angelica says, sniffing delicately. “I’m a wife.”
Tony kisses Angelica’s cheek and slips an arm around her shoulder.
“But why?” Will begs, ignoring Angelica’s valid, in Patrick’s opinion, point.
Tony’s eyes gleam. “For fun!”
“And strategy,” Patrick surmises.
Will glances back and forth between them. “What kind of strategy includes marrying a stripper?”
Patrick’s not sure when he figured it out exactly—sometime between his first sip of coffee and now—but, suddenly, it’s crystal clear. “The kind of strategy that involves getting your mother all riled up. Somehow he knew we were coming here, despite me only telling Jenny about this, and for some reason, he thought Kimberly would be here as well. I’m not sure how that fits in with his casino and happy pills business, but Kimberly’s why he’s really here. Isn’t it, Tony?”
Tony’s brows go up and he leans forward with a sharp grin. “You’re my favorite son-in-law. You realize that, don’t you?”
“He’s your only son-in-law,” Will growls.
“Your sister Ellen is getting married before long.” Tony rolls his eyes and sighs. “To a loser of a man. No imagination. No fun. Nothing to offer.”
Will blinks at him. “Right. My sister Ellen.” Then he clarifies for Patrick, “She’s one of the half-sisters I’ve never met.”
“Ah.”
“Yes, exactly. And why should you meet her?” Tony asks. “She’s dull as dishwater and she’s marrying a boring yes-man. He smiles too much.” Tony shudders. “I prefer men like Patrick. You understand?”
“No. I don’t understand you,” Will says. “I’ll never understand you. I don’t even know where to start with how much you confuse me.”
Patrick pops a melon ball in his mouth and sits back to wait for the show. Here it comes. In three, two, one…
Will throws his napkin on the table. “You know what? I do know where I want to start. Why would you think Mom would be on our honeymoon? And why would marrying a stripper be strategic if she was? What are you up to, Dad? And why are you here ruining my romantic trip with Patrick?”
“I already told you last night. You mother doesn’t like it when I get married.”
Will rolls his eyes. “Are you kidding me? So what? This is just an attempt to get her upset so you can…” Will trails off, his eyes narrowing. “Really?”
“The rage sex is always so good.” Tony shrugs. He leans over to his wife and whispers, “Not that you’re not delightful, darling. But Kimberly brings a certain fire that can’t be matched.”
“I’d love to meet her,” Angelica says. “If she’s as beautiful as you say.”
“More beautiful than I can describe,” Tony says fondly. “Especially when she’s angry.”
Will scrubs his hands over his face. “Fine. Never mind. I get it. You’re a sick bastard.”
“Yes, I am,” he says proudly. “A sick man with a signed pre-nup and a beautiful woman in my bed. The wrong beautiful woman, but she’ll do. For now.”
“For fun!” Angelica chirps and winks.
“Okay, well, answer my first question then. Why would Mom be on our honeymoon?” Will picks up his glass of water and drains it.
“I assumed this was a family vacation,” Tony says. “Your friend Jenny Burger mentioned your upcoming travel to the man in the coffee shop, the one she sleeps with, and she just happened to talk about this resort specifically. It was pure coincidence that she did so in front of one the men I’ve had stationed around town to watch out for your mother.”
“Spy on her,” Patrick says.
“Spy. Protect. It’s such a fine line. Regardless, it’s your friend Jenny’s fault I’m here. She spilled the beans to the man in the coffee shop and those beans got to me just in time to make a detour to Hawaii before I head back to Los Angeles to check on a deal there.” Tony frowns. “What is the coffee shop guy’s name? It’s slipped my mind.”
“Jax,” Will supplies.
“She better have made up with him,” Patrick grumbles.
“No, she didn’t. She’s sleeping with her ex again,” Tony says, eyes wide. “The father of her son? It’s all over The Hurting Times. The townspeople are taking bets on how long he stays in Healing this time. If he knows what’s good for him, it won’t be long.”
Patrick grits his teeth. Now he itches to check The Hurting Times app to make sure Tony’s telling the truth. The gossip columns will have the latest, and he can call Jenny to tell her off if she’s really giving Tom another go. But his and Will’s phones are locked up in the safe in their room.
“Maybe you should call her,” Will says.
“No.” Patrick shakes his head. “Phone calls are a slippery slope. We’ll never be able to place just one.”
“Like potato chips,” Angelica says wisely, nodding and laughing so that her pert nipples shake.
Will frowns at his empty glass, looks around for a waiter to refill it. Not finding one, he takes Patrick’s water instead. Patrick frowns, and just as a suspicion kicks in, the monitor alarms again.
“What’s it say?” he asks, leaning close to Will, trying to read the numbers. Another thing he misses about his phone: instant access to Will’s BG readings.
Then he smells it. He leans closer to Will to confirm. Yep. Concentrated Band-Aid odor. The specific and intense scent of a big, fat problem.
“C’mon.” He stands and grabs Will’s arm. “We need to get you back to the room.”
Tony frowns. “What’s the matter? Is Will okay?”
Will doesn’t rise. He darts his eyes between Patrick and his pump. “It’s not a big deal. The pump shows the boluses. I’m fine. I’m just thirsty.” He reaches for his plate of food and grabs another strip of bacon.
“Let’s go,” Patrick says again.
“Just let me finish breakfast,” Will snaps.
“No, I think now,” Patrick tugs on his arm harder. “You’re drinking water like you’re in the middle of a desert and I smell Band-Aids.”
“Oh.” Will says, frowning. “Oh.”
He actually looks like he’s going to argue with Patrick about this, which isn’t a surprise since extreme irritability is another sign of oncoming ketoacidosis. He’d probably have noticed that first on a normal day, but, well…Tony.
“Where’s your murse?” Patrick asks. He can solve this problem right now with an injection, but, for the first time in forever, Will seems to have left it behind.
“I don’t need it. That’s what the pump’s for,” Will growls. “We’re on our honeymoon. How romantic is it to carry that thing around everywhere?”
“Unless you think an ER run is romantic, we need to get back to the room.”
Tony stands and motions for a waiter to come over. “We need a doctor,” he says urgently.
“I am a doctor,” Patrick hisses at him. “Just come with me, Will. Now.”
“Fine.” Will throws his napkin down and stands, his cheeks flushed and his eyes gleaming feverishly. “Just stop telling me what to do!”
Patrick takes a deep breath, reminding himself that this childish rage is just the high BG speaking. “Or I can let your dad call the hotel doctor and we can make a big honking drama out of this.”
“I’m leaving!” Will stomps away in the direction of their room.
“He’s fine,” Patrick says to Tony, who makes a move to follow. “He needs to change his infusion site. His pump’s leaking insulin. It’s not getting into his system.”
“We’ll come with you, won’t we, darling?” he says to Angelica.
“Of course,” she says, rising with big eyes. “Anything to help my step-son!”
“No. You’ll make things worse.” Patrick holds up his hands and glares daggers at them both. “Stay here.”
Tony reaches out to grab Patrick’s arm as he passes. “Have dinner with us tonight, then.”
Patrick rolls his eyes. “Thanks, but we’re having room service.”
“Surely not with such lovely, romantic views to take in from one of the private dining rooms. Have you even attended a luau yet?”
Patrick barks. “What don’t you get about this? It’s our honeymoon. We’ll do what we want.”
“Ours too,” Angelica says, smiling again like an oblivious but very pretty sheep.
“Right.” Patrick nods at her sharply. “Let’s each keep our honeymoons to ourselves. No sharing. Got it? Good.”
Tony’s eyes take on a strange gleam as Patrick turns away from him. He doesn’t have time to figure out why, though, since he has to jog to keep up with Will.
“Gotta pee,” Will says when he reaches him on the walkway. His expression is disoriented as he looks around desperately for a bathroom.
“I bet.”
Patrick steers him to the closest one, follows him in, lingers by the urinal and compliments him on his dick size just to be annoying. Will snarls, but as they exit and start toward their rooms again, he says fairly coherently, “I think my infusion site got yanked.” His CGM shrieks again and he looks down. “Yeah. No doubt about that.”
Patrick puts a hand on his lower back and guides him toward the closest boat dock. “Let’s ride back. It’ll be a little faster.”
“You think?” Will barks.
Patrick swallows back his instinctive response and says, “You’re cute when you’re going into ketoacidosis.”
“I am not.”
Patrick laughs under his breath and helps Will onto the boat. “You’re right, puddin’-pop. You’re not. You’re an absolute jerk.”
“Now you know what it’s like living with you.”
“Good burn,” Patrick says, calmly. “I’ve taught you well.”
Will glares at him but Patrick just smiles. All they need to do is get to their room and fix Will up, then Patrick will have his sweet do-gooder back and he can return to being the King Jackass in their relationship.
Forty-five minutes later, propped on their suite’s sofa with a fresh infusion site supplying Will with insulin and a glass of water in his hands to help flush out the ketones, Will murmurs sheepishly, “I’m sorry I was a jerk.”
Patrick shrugs and rubs his feet where they’re propped in his lap. “Yeah, well, if you suck my dick, it’ll be worth it.”
Will laughs, his eyes twinkling. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Will drains his glass. “C’mere. Let me suck your dick before I have to take a leak again.”
Chuckling, Patrick unzips, scoots across the sofa, and kneels up to straddle Will’s chest and fuck into Will’s mouth. It doesn’t take long because the sight of a flushed Will with his red mouth wrapped around Patrick’s dick just never gets old.
He threads his fingers through Will’s hair and thrusts deep into his throat, soothing him when he gags. The scratch of Will’s stubble on his balls is delicious, and Patrick remembers that he wants to make Will rub his chin against other sensitive places before he shaves it off.
When Will closes his eyes and relaxes his throat, proving himself to be the cock-sucking champion Patrick’s long known him to be, it quickly gets to be too much. Patrick backs away slightly as he comes hard, emptying his balls down Will’s throat and milking the last drops of spunk from his dick to smear on Will’s lips.
“Yep, worth it,” he sighs, zipping up as Will licks the excess come from his lips. “Now let’s see about you, shall we? I want to get my fingers in that hole of yours. What do you think?”
Will shifts down and unbuttons his shorts. “I think you’re the doctor and that you know what’s best for me.”
Patrick’s spent dick twitches. “Oh, yeah? Are you my patient?”
Will nods. “Yes, Dr. McCloud. I’m very sick and need your medical opinion.”
Patrick stifles his grin and puts on a serious expression. “Mr. Patterson, your blood glucose is stabilized, but as your doctor I’d be negligent if I didn’t ask when you last had your prostate checked.”
“It’s been hours.” Will’s brown eyes are wide and innocent.
Patrick tsks. “That’ll never do. It’s important for good prostate health to have the gland examined regularly. Let me check it now before you leave my office.”
Will’s cheeks glow and he shoves his shorts down. “Thank you, Dr. McCloud. I do need to have it checked. You’re right.”
“Oh, I’m always right,” Patrick purrs, already planning a very long and involved check-up for his patient. “Now turn over on your stomach and spread your legs for me.”