Chapter 8

EIGHT

Everything lined up perfectly for Toby to travel to Staffordshire with Robbie. A large part of him wished it hadn't. He'd hoped someone from the office would have objected and said he was needed in London, or that spending two nights in some posh hotel with a member of the family he was assessing was a conflict of interest. Then he could have backed out of what he was certain would be a nightmare.

But his boss had hardly blinked when he'd explained the plan to drive all the way to Staffordshire for three days. He'd all but rubber-stamped the trip, like it didn't matter to him whether Toby was in the office, at Hawthorne House, in Staffordshire, or on Mars. He was simply told to record his expenses for reimbursement, and given an obscenely low ceiling of money he was allowed to be reimbursed for, and told to have a good time.

"I'd like a bit of a holiday in the country," Toby's sister, Gerry, said from where she was pacing in a small circle on one side of his family's front room, bouncing her ten-month-old son, Tommy, who was fussing up a storm. "I'd like a holiday to anywhere right now."

Toby laughed as he checked through his weekend bag one last time where it sat on the arm of a recliner closer to the door. "This isn't going to be much of a holiday," he told Gerry. "It's more like three days of torture."

"I don't believe that for a second," Gerry said. She made a face at Toby, but that melted into a smile when Toby glanced her way. "Any trip away from here is a good one."

"Here's not so bad." Toby left his bag and crossed the room, stepping over his niece, Gracie's scattering of dolls, which earned a yelp of protest from Gracie, and went to pluck Tommy out of his sister's arms.

"Ha!" Gerry laughed sharply, then stretched her back and rolled her shoulders after carrying Tommy around for so long. "How ‘bout you stay here with Mum and the kids and I'll go to the country for you."

Toby laughed, but didn't reply. He was too busy swinging Tommy lightly in his arms and making airplane noises in an attempt to calm his nephew down.

Here really wasn't so bad, as far as he was concerned. Sure, the house was a mess, none of the furniture matched, and there was still a big, white square on the wall from where one of the family photos had fallen and shattered when Tommy's deadbeat dad had come ‘round to try to extort money from Gracie and she'd thrown a shoe at him and missed. The carpet definitely needed replacing, and there were more toys on it than cleared areas. The telly always seemed to be blaring too loudly, and someone had burnt something in the kitchen earlier, giving the whole place a smell of smoke. But it was home.

"What's the matter, bubs?" Toby cooed, straightening Tommy and holding him closer. "You angry that your Uncle Tobes is going away for a few days?"

Gracie dragged her attention away from whatever inane cartoon on the telly she'd been glued to and glanced up at Toby. "Where are you going, Uncle Toby?"

"If I said I was going to fairyland, would you believe me?" Toby asked in return.

"No!" Gracie laughed, like the idea was ridiculous.

"Well, I am," Toby told her, rubbing Tommy's back, since he'd finally calmed down.

"Can I come! Can I come!" Gracie leapt up and kicked her way through her toys to throw her arms around Toby's leg.

"Nope," Toby said, reaching a hand down to stroke her soft, curly hair. "No girls allowed."

"That's not fair," Gracie shrieked, then proceeded to grab Toby's hand and wrist and hang all her weight off his arm.

Toby was lucky Gracie was small for a four-year-old and light. He was able to lift her off the floor and swing her a bit, even though he held Tommy in his other arm. Gracie laughed and gazed adoringly up at him. Tommy had stopped fussing and flailed his arms with what passed for a drooly smile.

"God, they've got you wrapped ‘round their little fingers," Gerry said, shuffling to the sofa, then flopping down to rest.

"I'm just getting on their good side while they're young so I can put them to work later," Toby said, chuckling at Gracie's antics.

His family might not have been posh and pretty, like the Hawthornes, but they were just as special, as far as Toby was concerned. And sure, Gracie and Tommy had different fathers, neither of whom Gerry had ever even considered marrying, sure, his brother Mike hadn't checked in with the family in days and was probably up to no good, his dad would be living at His Majesty's pleasure for another ten years, and his mum was in serious danger of developing diabetes, but that didn't mean they loved each other any less than someone who lived on a fancy estate in a grand house.

"What's all this noise in here?" his mum asked, coming into the front room from the kitchen at the back, carrying a plate of biscuits with her. When she saw Toby, she asked, "You still here? Haven't run off an found a place of your own yet?"

"I'm still here, Mum."

It was a long-standing joke between the two of them, but one with real worry behind it. Toby's mum lived in constant fear that the one of her children who had a chance to break the cycle and get out of the misfortune the rest of them seemed destined to would do something to wreck the chances he'd been handed and end up like his dad or Mike.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, letting Gracie go so she could grab a biscuit as his mum handed the plate off to Gerry.

He stepped over and kissed his mum's cheek.

"Go on, then," his mum smiled at him and hugged him in return.

There wasn't enough money in the world to pry him away from his mum's loving arms, or to tempt him to leave Gerry and the kids behind. So in more ways than the Hawthornes knew, Toby understood the impossible position they found themselves in. It was why he was willing to work so hard and put in so many hours off the clock to find ways for that family to keep what they had. It was the reason he was willing to put himself through the torture of these few days in Staffordshire.

As if his thoughts had summoned him, the doorbell rang. It could only be Robbie.

"I get it!" Gracie shouted, a biscuit in each hand, as she pushed away from the sofa and raced for the door.

"No, I'll get it," Toby said, jumping around toys to just barely beat her to the door.

Sure enough, Robbie Hawthorne stood on the other side, looking tense, confused, and handsome as hell. He took one look at Tommy in Toby's arms and at Gracie as she changed her mind about greeting strangers and decided to clamp onto Toby's leg instead, then met Toby's eyes with a look that was near panic.

"I'm not sure I've got the right house," he said, even though he knew damn well he did.

"Sorry that I don't live in a palatial estate," Toby said, keeping his tone civil, since his mum was approaching behind him.

"No, that's not what I?—"

"This must be your friend from work, Robbie," Toby's mum said, face glowing with excitement as she opened the door the rest of the way and invited Robbie in.

"Yes, er, Robbie Hawthorne."

Toby stepped back, grinning at Robbie's discomfort as he inched his way into the house. He was so ready to jump down Robbie's throat if he so much as dared to criticize a single thing he saw, but there was also something endearing and fun about seeing the great Robert Hawthorne, Jr. so out of his element.

"I'm Marcia Tillman, Toby's mum."

"I'm Gracie," Gracie introduced herself loudly. She held up one of her biscuits and said, "Do you want a biscuit?"

"Oh, er, thank you?" Robbie said, taking the offering.

He got points for that, Toby had to admit. And bonus points when he actually ate the biscuit.

"This is my daughter, Geraldine," Toby's mum continued the introductions as Gerry stood and kicked her way through the toys to the crowd around the door. "And Toby is holding Thomas, her son."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," Robbie said with a somewhat tight smile.

"Ooh, likewise," Gerry said, pushing past Toby to extend a hand to Robbie.

The flirtatious look she gave Robbie, especially when he shook her hand, was priceless. She stood close enough to Toby that he could pretend to cough while saying, "Not your type."

"Oh?" Gerry glanced to him, and when understanding dawned, she repeated, "Ohh."

Of course, then she had to lean towards him and in a not-so-quiet voice say, "Nice pull."

Robbie squirmed with embarrassment, which Toby loved.

"We're just working together," he told Gerry, no qualms at all about embarrassing Robbie further.

In fact, if they hadn't been so pressed for time, he would have invited Robbie to come in and have tea so he could put him on the spot to the point where he would probably spontaneously combust.

"We really need to get going," he said instead, handing Tommy back into Gerry's arms. Tommy didn't like that and started crying again.

"Are you sure you won't stay for a cuppa?" Toby's mom asked, just as he'd known she would.

"I would," Robbie said, flushing a bit, "but we need to make it to Staffordshire by nightfall."

Robbie was cute when he was flustered. Toby didn't know many men who looked better with a flush painting their cheeks. Well, unless they were flushed from fucking. But Robbie had the sort of patrician good looks that were enhanced by awkwardness, damn him.

"Hold on one moment," Toby's mum said, shuffling back toward the kitchen as Toby grabbed his overnight bag and hefted it over his shoulder. "I made a little something for the drive."

Toby sent Robbie a look that was part apology and part bragging. Much to his surprise, Robbie returned the look with a smile, like he might actually not hate his family.

"They're just cheese and pickle sandwiches and a few packs of crisps," Toby's mum returned with a bulging Asda bag. "Cheese and pickle doesn't spoil if you don't get a chance to eat them right away," she said, handing the bag to Robbie. "I'd send a few bottles of water along with you, but we're down to the last few, and I won't be able to get down to the shops until Friday."

"It's fine," Robbie said, taking the bag with a gracious look. "We can always stop along the way if we need something."

"Ooh, I like him," Gerry said, jabbing Toby with her elbow and wiggling her eyebrows once Toby looked at her.

"And with that, we're off," Toby said. He stepped over to his mum to kiss her cheek. "Bye, Mum. Call if you need me for anything."

The goodbyes took longer than Toby expected, since Gracie wanted several kisses and insisted Toby kiss Tommy goodbye as well. Then she panicked at the last minute when she saw Robbie's unfamiliar car waiting outside, and Toby had to give her several more hugs and kisses before they could drive off.

Once they were on the road, Robbie said, "Your family is?—"

"Don't say it," Toby stopped him with a scowl when he faltered. "I know they're not as refined and posh as you Hawthornes, but they're good people who try hard and mean well."

A short, brittle silence followed before Robbie said, "I was going to say they're nice. They clearly love you very much."

It wasn't spoken, but Toby could hear the, "though God knows why," tacked to the end of Robbie's words.

"You don't have to be rich and titled to have a tight, loving family," Toby snapped, staring straight ahead out the windshield. "In fact, from what I've seen, most toffs have awful, dysfunctional families."

"So you're saying your family isn't the least bit dysfunctional?" Robbie asked, tossing Toby a wry look as they turned onto a larger road.

Toby stopped himself from the nasty reply he wanted to make. Just minutes ago, he'd been happy, feeling great, and proud of his family. Now he was trapped in a tight space with someone who had said flat-out the other day that he hated him.

"Look, you can say or think whatever you want about me," he said, letting himself go a little. "You've already told me you hate me, and I don't really care. But leave my family out of this. Maybe they're not up to your standards, but I love them, and I don't take kindly to people shitting on them."

"Sorry," Robbie said, his voice small and tight. "I wasn't shitting on anyone. Everyone's family is dysfunctional, if you ask me."

Toby clenched his jaw, fighting to hold onto his anger and not to let it turn into an entirely different sort of embarrassment from the kind Robbie had experienced earlier. He was just so used to having to defend every little fucking thing about the people he loved that he couldn't stand having to do it all over again with someone he?—

He let his frustrated thoughts stop there. He didn't know what he felt for or about Robbie. He didn't want to know, didn't want to think about it.

"I don't hate you, by the way," Robbie said five long minutes later, as they headed toward the M25. "I don't know why I said that the other day. I think the whole joust thing, seeing Keith again, Dad being Dad, I just…I don't know."

"Alright," Toby said, arms crossed, continuing to stare out the windshield.

Robbie stole a glance at him. "Alright?"

Toby dragged his eyes over to meet Robbie's with a scowl of indignation. "What do you want me to say? You're a good man for not hating me? Well done? I don't hate you either? I love you and want to have your babies?"

Robbie's face darkened. "You don't have to throw a fit about it."

Toby huffed and stared forward again.

That was all he did for the next five hours.

It wasn't the way he wanted to spend a long car ride. The whole rivalry that he had going on with Robbie was growing stale anyhow. There didn't seem to be any reason for it anymore. The whole thing had started because of a stupid misunderstanding two weeks ago. Toby could fuss and fit like Tommy all he wanted, but the fact of the matter was that he had grown to respect and even like the Hawthorne family.

So why hadn't that translated to him and Robbie getting along better?

At least half of it had to be Robbie's fault, he decided by the time they skirted around Birmingham. Robbie had some sort of bug up his arse that he wasn't letting go of. It was probably all about that poncy ex of his, but that just piled on insult to injury. Just because one man had fucked Robbie up didn't mean the next one would.

Not that Toby had any intention of being the next one.

Although as soon as that thought flittered through his brain, he began to feel the strain of being stuck in a car for so long and squirmed. Robbie didn't say anything about his sudden restlessness, but he did send multiple looks Toby's way. So many that if they hadn't reached their destination forty-five minutes later, Toby might have either shouted at him or opened the car door and flung himself out onto the highway just to ease the feeling like he would crawl out of his skin.

The hotel where Rebecca had booked rooms for them wasn't as posh as Toby thought it would be, but it was still up there in the higher end of accommodations in the area. Not that there were a lot that Toby had noticed as they'd come in.

"I have a reservation for Hawthorne," Robbie said with a kind but tired smile as they stood at the front desk.

"Yes, Hawthorne," the woman behind the desk said. She smiled at both of them, then checked Robbie's ID as she tapped away on her computer.

Toby glanced around the lobby. There were signs for the hotel restaurant, a Starbucks off to one side, and an electronic directory that flashed a message congratulating Rick and Melody on their wedding. There were also a few posters touting The Ceramics Challenge, which appeared to be the major draw in the area.

"There you go," the woman behind the counter's voice pulled Toby's attention again. "Your room is on the second floor. The lifts are to the right, past the vending machine, and?—"

"I believe there should be two rooms?" Robbie interrupted her.

The woman blinked at Robbie.

A horrible feeling started to blossom in Toby's gut.

"No, there's just the one room," the woman said.

"But we need two rooms," Toby said. "One for each of us."

"I'm sorry, but the reservation was only for one room," the woman said, tapping away on her computer again. "Yes, just one room."

"We'll need another," Robbie said.

Toby widened his eyes at him. If they got another room, Robbie had damn well better be the one to pay for it.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hawthorne, but we're entirely booked this week," the woman said. "The wedding party has reserved most of the rooms. I'm surprised they were able to squeeze your reservation in at all."

"So you're saying there's only one room and the two of us will have to share," Toby said, eyeing Robbie with a frown.

"Yes, sir, I'm afraid so," the woman said with an apologetic smile.

Toby closed his eyes for a moment and prayed for patience. It figured. Five hours trapped together in a car, and now he and Robbie would have to share a hotel room for two nights.