Chapter 9
Nine. That was by design
Tamara
The fucking nerve of this man. We’ll ignore the way my pussy clenched when he said my wife; we’re not supposed to feel anything for him right now.
These days my feelings for Patrick are confusing.
I’m angry one minute, turned on the next, frustrated soon after and plain torn about how to respond to his presence.
At this very moment, I’m annoyed because he swooped in, swinging his dick and calling me his wife.
Ugh, stop thinking about his dick. However, I am grateful he stepped in, because the man I accidentally smiled at would have taken far more liberties than grabbing my hand and calling me darling. Blergh men.
More importantly, who told Patrick it was okay to show up looking like this?
He’s not even dressed up, but his tall frame fills out his clothes, his hair’s tied back and his beard is smooth enough to not leave burn marks on my skin this time.
Oh my god, quit thinking about sex. I can’t blame the pregnancy for the horniness; it’s entirely Patrick’s fault.
And now he comes charging in like a freaking Viking to save the damsel. I’m not in distress, but I am a damsel.
“Your wife, really?”
“Mother of my child sounded too complicated.”
I huff and turn away, thanking the bartender for my drink. Patrick looks at it and frowns. “It’s soda and lime. Helps with the nausea.”
“Still nauseous? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What are you going to do, threaten it like you did that guy?”
He looks murderous and for some reason, it turns me on. “I could try.”
“Please, I know how to handle myself. I don’t need your alpha male help.” I wave him off and he rolls his eyes.
“Are you okay otherwise?”
“I’m fine, Patrick. It’s barely a baby, a bean, remember?”
“Lotus, just…” he grinds his teeth and holds out a box. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
He takes my drink and opens the box. When I see the medal, I gasp loudly. It’s shiny and pretty and my eyes widen as I trace the details. I was joking when I told him to win the medal for me, but here it is and I have no words.
“It’s yours.”
“It’s yours, remember? You scored all those goals and won it.”
“You kept track, huh?”
Jesus, this man. I shake my head and nudge the box away. “Don’t ruin the moment.”
He picks up the medal, fingers sliding along the ribbon before he lowers it around my neck.
I sag forward dramatically and he chuckles.
I cradle the heavy bronze medallion in my palm, trying to understand why my heart feels the way it does.
Is it pride or lust? I shake my head and release the medal to grab my drink instead.
Patrick’s gaze is heavy on me, but I refuse to look at him.
He doesn’t need to see whatever is swirling in my eyes or know my head is a mess thanks to him.
“Looks good on you, baby.”
“Stop it,” I snap.
“I’m not doing a damn thing.”
“You’re being your infuriating self.”
He arches an eyebrow. “I’m standing here, admiring my medal around the neck of the mother of my child.”
Oh, I want to sock him in his perfect face.
In the romance novels I read, this is what gets all the women riled up.
But in reality? I need him to stop. It’s difficult maintaining eye contact because he has this weird effect on me.
If I wasn’t sitting down, I’m sure my feet would have nudged me forward to close the space between our bodies.
“How long are you here?”
“A while.”
I narrow my eyes and he smirks. Asshole. “How long is a while?”
“A couple of months.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re pregnant. Did you not know?”
“You’re telling me you moved to Chennai because I’m having a baby?”
He nods and gestures between us. “We’re having a baby.”
“I don’t see you carrying extra weight for the next six months. So we’re not doing anything.”
“I like this,” he says with a boyish grin.
“You’re exhausting.”
He laughs, drawing the attention of every woman in the bar. “You’re beautiful.”
“For fuck’s sake, Patrick.”
“What? Don’t like the truth now? It’s really hard to keep up, Lotus.”
“Stop calling me that,” I growl and his smile turns naughty. “You’re a pain in my ass.”
“And you drive me fucking crazy.”
The words are a low rumble and I hold myself still so I don’t react physically.
There is absolutely no way I’m letting this man see how he affects me.
He doesn’t look like he’s suffering as much as I am, so for that reason alone, I’m keeping myself together.
I carefully slide off the stool, with every intention of heading back to the table where my friends are, but Patrick’s hand lands on my hip.
My breath catches at the warmth and strength of his grip, the way his palm and fingers cover the span of my wide body.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping you,” he replies casually, like his fingers aren’t pressing into my side.
“I don’t need your help, Patrick.”
This time when he smiles, I swallow hard and it draws his attention to my throat. “Tell me to stop touching you and I will.”
My lips part to say the words, but his other hand joins the party and I’m suddenly being held by this man.
Memories of that night come flooding back and I sway in place.
Every attempt to stop the onslaught of visuals is ignored by my brain and I force myself to breathe.
Fuck this man and the power he has over me.
“Ooookay, let’s not give the whole bar a show,” Vera says as she sidles up to us and Patrick finally releases me. I exhale loudly as she stares at the medal around my neck. “In case you forgot, you just won that and there are people here who recognise you.”
Patrick grunts, but doesn’t take his eyes off me.
I loop my arm through Vera’s and walk back to our table.
Only then do I realise people are watching us, our friends in particular.
Krys and Millie look like they’re about to burst and Elias’s forehead is wrinkled with concern.
I don’t blame him. Things have been rocky between me and Patrick from the moment we reconnected and he witnessed it.
I sit down seconds before the chair beside me is occupied by the object of my frustrations.
I forgot how large he is until he pushes the chair back to fit himself comfortably, one thigh pressing against my side.
I urge my body to move, but the traitorous bitch stays right there.
Maybe we even press back. I take the new fizzy lime drink Vera slides over, doing my best to ignore Patrick.
“Soooo,” Krys starts, gesturing between the two of us. “Does anyone wanna fill me in on what I’ve missed?”
I set my drink down, slide the medal off and hold it out to Patrick.
He reluctantly takes it from me before I look at my friends.
Vera, Krys, Millie and I have been friends since we met in college.
Inseparable except for the few years when we lived in different countries for college, our friendship has really stood the test of time.
Krys and Millie have been with their respective partners for a long time, and the men have become part of our group.
When Vera and Elias started dating, he joined the fray.
Even though I was with Kabir for eight years, he never liked the group and they didn’t like him much either.
“We’re having a baby,” I say and it turns silent. Which is close to impossible considering the bar is packed with people. When we got here, I could barely hear the music. Now, a pin could drop and I’d even hear the echo.
Millie’s eyes widen as she leans forward, brushing her bangs out of the way. “The two of you?” she asks, gesturing between me and Patrick.
The blaring sounds return—patrons talking loudly, a hip-hop track pumping through the speakers and a television playing sports—and I do my best to hide my flinch.
Patrick’s arm is draped over the back of my chair and even though the action is light, I feel his fingers playing with my hair.
I need him to stop touching me, but I can’t bring myself to say the words.
“How?” Venkat, Krys’s husband, asks. For someone who has two children, he looks incredibly perplexed at this development.
“Well, when a man is obse—” I slap a hand over Patrick’s mouth and he smiles against my palm, eyes twinkling at my frustration. Seriously, I will kill him.
“We’ve known each other a long time. Or we knew each other years ago. And when we reconnected, things happened.”
Elias and Vera are pointedly not looking at us and I pull my hand away from Patrick’s face, because it’s way too much contact. I knock back my drink and push the glass aside. Alcohol would be so good right now. It would calm me down and numb the frustration simmering beneath the surface.
“Things like a baby.” Jonathan says, a slight lilt at the end of the statement.
“And he’s your brother,” Venkat adds, pointing between the Joseph boys and Elias nods. “Brothers hooking up with cousins. It’s like the plot of a really messy movie.”
“Technically, we hooked up first. These two only met recently,” Patrick offers, gently tugging at my hair.
“How far along are you?”
I smile at Krys. For years she’s been waiting for one of us to have kids so her children can have best friends. It took a little longer than she hoped, but at least it’s happening now.
“Coming up on the end of my first trimester,” I reply and she grins, stretching her tattooed arms across the table. I meet her hands halfway and our fingers link as she beams.
“I’m really excited for you, Tam. I should have guessed from how much you’re glowing.”
“I thought it was my natural look,” I joke, feeling lighter.
My girlfriends laugh and the tension around the table settles.
I should lean on these women more, let them help me deal with all of this noise in my head.
Be there for me when I don’t want Patrick around.
If only I can find a way to say that to him.