The Unexpected Bride-Book One in Taming of the Shrew

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Nine

The loud sounds erupting around were grievous to Irene and Peter Macintyre, walking hand in hand through the busy lobby of one of London's many airports.

They moved along with a short but ever-growing line that allowed them access to one of the terminal gates.

Pulling their suitcases behind them, they were eager to find refuge somewhere quieter. However, purchasing the most affordable flight tickets was their definite goal.

Glancing at the bustling entrance of the airport, Irene pursed her lips, for their companions had yet to arrive. She gazed around the crowded area, her mood decreasing when not a familiar face came into view.

"What is taking those children so long? Are they making the vehicle?"

Patting her hand, Peter Macintyre smiled.

"Finding parking spots in the airport is like looking for a needle in a haystack, dear."

Scoffing, Irene was not impressed by her husband's lame attempt at a joke.

"Well, they better hurry up. The planes are not waiting for us. We should've been on a plane and in the sky already. All this is making me very angry."

Peter sighed.

He hated to see his wife frustrated because it would pose a challenge to mollify her.

"Oh, don't stress yourself so much, dear. Your pressure will rise... again."

Sending a glare in his direction, she grumbled.

"If we miss a plane and my chance of getting answers today, you will sleep in the airport to ensure and secure another flight to Colorado, no questions asked."

"Okay, that will not be difficult. You have to accompany me throughout the night, though. I can't live without you after all."

Winking, Peter sent air kisses in her direction.

Rolling her eyes, she scoffed as she impatiently tapped her foot on the tiled floor.

"Just let the plane leave, then you will see how cruel I am, Peter."

Peter sighed, but before he could retort, the loud shouting of Joaquin pierced the air and captured everyone's attention.

A displeased frown formed on Irene's face as she watched the casually dressed nineteen-year-old maneuvering through the noisy crowd.

Pinching a grinning Peter's forearm, she hissed.

"Why is he so loud and careless?"

Gasping, he pulled his arm away from his wife's assault.

Rubbing the area, he groaned.

"I was not the one who shouted. Why pinch me?"

Retorting with a wave of her hands, she watched Joaquin drawing closer to them.

"That's because you were the one who influenced him."

Ignoring her, Peter folded his arms on his chest with a huff.

Arriving in front of them breathless, as if he had run a marathon, Joaquin placed his hands on his laps.

Irene reprimanded him.

"How many times do I have to tell you to behave properly?"

With a billion-watt smile, Joaquin passed a hand through his black mop that attracted the attention of passing by and giggling girls.

"Sorry, gran gran. Old habits die hard."

While speaking, he shamelessly winked in the girls' direction.