"Shagging you five times in one night, and combined stress of the day after. That's what triggered it this time," Marcus said, wiping his tongue over his teeth after trying to rid himself of the taste of the potion. "Yeah, that's your Dad's concoction."
He wrinkled his nose. "I haven't needed to take any daily potions yet and I'm almost fifty. I'm not about to start," he said. Marcus knew he was being stubborn but there was something about taking a potion every day that screamed 'old' to him.
Sighing, Marcus ran a hand over his face. "Yes, I do think she'll interfere and not because I don't like her. It's just something I can feel...somehow." Dislike wasn't a strong enough word for what he felt towards Tracey now, but he kept that to himself.
Marcus snorted. "As if she could stop you," he added. He then looked at Patrick as if the man had grown another head. "Probably the same thing as I will, and that's not fucking likely. Not unless we get a house elf to taste the food beforehand. Patrick, I'm probably not going to be welcome around your parents at all anymore you know."
He shrugged at the thought. "Doesn't matter. Christmas time is always busy for the club what with the private parties. Maybe I'll head to Jamaica for the holidays and let Rebecca handle things..."