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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 thewindshield. “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.

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