Honeymoon Rebound
Eddie Cleveland
Honeymoon Rebound
Copyright © 2020 by Eddie Cleveland
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Eddie Cleveland
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Contents
Introduction
1. Joss
2. Joss
3. Cohen
4. Joss
5. Finn
6. Joss
7. Cohen
8. Joss
9. Joss
10. Finn
11. Joss
12. Joss
13. Finn
14. Joss
15. Joss
16. Joss
17. Cohen
18. Finn
19. Joss
20. Cohen
21. Joss
22. Joss
23. Joss
24. Finn
25. Joss
26. Cohen
27. Joss
28. Joss
29. Finn
Epilogue
Epilogue
Epilogue
Sneak Peak from ‘Shared by the Mountain Men’
Also by Eddie Cleveland
About Eddie Cleveland
Connect with Eddie Cleveland
Introduction
Imagine it's your wedding day. The flowers are even more beautiful than you dreamed they would be. Your hair is swept up in a way that makes you look like a classy movie star from old black and white movies. All eyes are on you. Everything is perfect, Except for one minor detail... you know your fiance? The groom? Your husband-to-be? Yeah, he's a no show.
Jilted bride. That's what they call a woman left at the altar, right? Jilted. That's not how I'm going down in history. To hell with my jackass ex-fiance and to hell with crying in my flowers. I'm taking that ten day honeymoon in Hawaii, thank you very much. If I'm going to go cry it out, I can at least get a nice tan while I do it.
However, Hawaii had other plans for me. In my wildest dreams, I never imagined this trip would unleash a wild side to me. It all started with early morning yoga where I got some one on one attention from the drop dead sexy instructor. With his wheat colored hair, blue eyes and dimples he's got me all hot and bothered and agreeing to a date.
Then the very next day I meet this dark haired, gray-eyed, intense surfer guy who gave me a private lesson. He was irresistible, I admit it, I fell under his spell. Like you'd say no to a date with him? I don't think so.
I've never done anything like this before, but I'm loving my naughty little secret. Everything was going great until... they find out about each other.
But to my surprise, they aren't jealous. In fact, they both want me, together... at the same time.
The one thing I've learn from my honeymoon rebound is contrary to the saying, in fact the best way to get over a man is to get under two.
1
Joss
“Excuse me, waitress? Can my friend here and I get a couple more drinks? Uh, hello?” I know she can see my waving hands, why is she pretending she can’t?
I turn to Benji. I might be drunk but I’m not blind. He’s cringing, trying to shrink down like he’s hoping the seat a kid behind us has been kicking the entire flight will swallow him whole.
“Will you shut up?” he hisses, swatting the travel magazine they shove in the back of every chair that I’m frantically waving.
“Oh, what? I’m the rude one?” I turn my palm up like, what the fuck is your deal? at the lady near the back of the plane. The one frowning up the aisle. Her coworker joins her. They point right at me as they shoot dirty looks my way. They don’t try to hide their disgust. Their anger is meant to shame me. To put me in my place. To shut me up. There’s just one thing they’re forgetting …
“You can’t shame me!” I bellow. “I’ve got nothing left.” Even I hear the slur in my words. Benji groans and flops back against his seat, muttering under his breath.
“Pleeease, I’m literally fucking begging you to close your beautiful mouth before you get us kicked off this flight,” he whispers.
I don’t look at him. I don’t need to. I know what I’ll see if I look into his face. His spattering of freckles will be even darker because of the red flushing his face. His soft eyes will be mortified with embarrassment. We all have a secret public nightmare scenario. Benji’s is to be publicly shamed in some viral video on Twitter. Right now, I’m like an acrobat shakily walking across a tightrope. If I fall, his biggest fear becomes a reality.
“Oh no!” I whisper back loudly and slump down in my seat. “The one mean-mugging me is heading this way. Play it cool!” I try to turn away from her, but there’s nowhere to go.
“Ma’am? I’m sorry but there have been some complaints about your behavior. I’m going to have to ask you to stop harassing the …”
“Can you believe the waitress ratted me out?” I gasp at Benji. He looks like he’s in need of medical assistance. His face is so red, if any more blood rushes to his face his organs might go into some kind of shock.
“Ma’am? She’s not your waitress, okay? She is a flight attendant. We are very close to Hawaii right now, but if you continue this, we will have to reroute this plane. If you force that to happen, you can be assured there will be criminal charges brought against you,” the mean one lectures me.
She reminds me of my old teacher. She started out the school year with a grudge against me. All because my older brother, Nick, gave her an elaborately wrapped gift at the end of the school year. He was always the kind of guy who handed you a birthday present from the Dollar Store still in the plastic bag, so the sparkly wrapping paper and pretty bow should have raised a few eyebrows. When she lifted the lid, horrified, and dropped it. The huge, shiny butt plug rolled across the scattered papers on her desk and the class predictably erupted into chaos. Nick yelled out that it was to replace the stick she had shoved up there the whole year.
Yeah, old Mrs. Banks. That sour bitch hated my face from the first day of seventh grade. She was always shooting all sorts of poison-tipped eye-daggers my way. Kind of like this lady glaring down at me right now.
“Ma’am, you have clearly been overserved. No one on this flight will be bringing you any more alcohol, do you understand?”
“One more beer?” I whimper. “Please?”
“Mommy, why does she want beer so much?” the little seat-kicker behind us interrupts.
“You wanna know why?” I turn around.
Benji suddenly swoops in. “No, let’s not talk to the little girl about this.” He says it like he’s singing to a character in a Broadway show. There are actual beads of sweat glistening on his brow as he shakes his head at me.
Of course, I ignore him.
“It’s because,” I lean toward the passengers behind me, pointing my finger in the air over my seat, “someday you’re gonna have a huge wedding, with pretty dresses and pretty flowers and cute little centerpieces with colors matching your bouquet because you love teal so much. And you’re gonna plan that wedding for a year. Like when all your friends go out for wings, are you gonna go? Nope. Wedding to plan,” I ramble.
“Joss, people are pulling out their phones.” Benji’s voice goes weak and he hides behind the travel magazine.
“When everyone is eating birthday cake, you won’t take a piece, you know why? Wedding dress.”
“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to quiet down now.” The mean Mrs. Banks-esque woman sighs.
But I keep going, “It’s no going out, no snacking, gym every day, wedding plans twenty-four seven and then guess what?”
“What?” I know I’m drunk, but I’m pretty sure I heard other passengers ask along with the little girl.
“Then you’ll be standing there, waiting for it to start. Waiting in a time stopping eternity of agony, hoping there’s a good, normal reason he’s late.” Tears I didn’t know I had left prick the corners of my eyes. “But the lateness just gets later. You keep checking the time, watching it slip away, just like your future. Just like your happy ending,” my voice breaks and I sniffle. “Like, you’ll actually hope there was a car accident and that you have to take care of him for the rest of his life because it would be less painful than reality,” the tears slip down my cheeks. I turn back around and crumple over, sinking my head into my hands, “He stood me up.”
“I’m so sorry about her.” Benji still obstructs his face with the glossy cover, but he looks up at the flight attendant. Her scowl is slightly less etched in now, but she still has deep frown lines between her eyebrows. “She was stood up at the altar.” He makes a face so full of pity it makes me cringe for myself.
“So everyone on this flight heard.” The meanie rolls her eyes, but her tone softens.
“Mommy, why didn’t he go to the wedding?” the little girl asks behind me.
“I’m not sure, honey,” the mother answers.
“Is it because she likes beer so much?”
“Shhh, hush she can hear you,” her mother warns her.
“I promise she won’t try to get any more drinks,” Benji interrupts.
“Let’s have a peaceful flight, shall we? Just, keep her quiet for a couple more hours. Can you do that?” She looks at my friend.
Benji nods, but the deep red glow on his cheeks doesn’t exactly stir up a lot of confidence. Still, it’s either enough for this lady or she is tired of dealing with this because she sniffs loudly, adjusts her little vest, bouncing her big boobs and walks away.
The plane fills with mumbles of disapproval and sympathy. I don’t care. Everyone in this world will have a day they wish they could erase from their lives. If people think this stupid, drunken scene is mine then they haven’t been listening.
“I can’t believe he left me at the altar,” I sob.
Benji wraps his arms around me. “I know. He’s a total sociopath, Joss. It was his eyes, they seemed so genuine. He fooled us all.”
“I’m so embarrassed.” I honk and tears and snot and drool, they’re all pouring down my face. Train wrecks are less messy.
“Don’t be. This is on him, not you. Listen to me, Joss.” He gives my shoulders a little shake. “He might have ruined your wedding, but you don’t have to let him ruin your honeymoon too. We’re almost to Hawaii. We’re gonna have ten days in the sun, on white sand beaches, with lots of honeys and …”
“And more drinks?” I hiccup like a drunk, but it’s really a reflex from crying so hard. Oh, who am I kidding? It’s from the drinks too.
“Yes, love. Lots more. Spring break ain’t got nothing on us, right? We’re about to live it up. So, wipe those tears, take a breath and let’s take a little nap until we get there, huh?”
“Yeah, that sounds nice.” I start to settle into my best friend’s shoulder when my stomach gurgles and my eyes pop open wide. “Uh oh.” I lunge forward and grasp the edge of the little white paper bag. People around me make all kinds of disgusted noises but I drown them all out as I double over and fill it up.
With my emotions and my stomach purged, I lean back and roll my head against my seat, finally letting sleep take me. Benji’s right, I won’t let Blair ruin my honeymoon. This is going to be my week. I’m gonna find a guy. Hell, I’ll find more than one. And I’ll make up for every night out I missed and every piece of cake I never ate over the past year. I’m making up for lost time.
2
Joss
Weeeee!
A whirring sound startles me from my dreamless state. It felt less like sleep and more like what computers do when their battery dies.
“Da fuck?” My voice creaks like a squeaky step in a horror film. I manage to pop one eye open, my pupil reacts like I stared right into a solar eclipse. “Ahhh, why is it so bright?” I hiss like I’m about to sparkle or turn into a puff of smoke or whatever the fuck vampires do in the movies now when sunlight hits them.
“There she is.” Benji leans out the hotel bathroom and points his expensive electric toothbrush at me. The whirring sound intensifies like some nightmare dentist in my angry brain.
“Turn it off,” I try to yell but my throat is so parched, it comes out more like a whisper.
“What? Give me a sec. I’m almost done.” He turns and water runs down from the back of his black hair to his towel. Let’s just say the path it takes is over some tight mountains and valleys.
A little smirk of satisfaction slides over my mouth when his muscles flex across his broad back. Not because I want to jump him, I mean, Benji is hot, but we’re not like that. It’s because I was there, cheering him on in the weight room as he worked for every ounce of his fifty-pound weight loss. When Blair popped the big question, the gym became my second home. Benji cheered me on through every calf-burning step on the stair climber, killing it on the machine right next to me.
I manage to half sit up against a wall of pillows. My eyes stay shut tight as I try to get used to the pink light shining over my closed eyelids first. “Why is the sun so bright,” I moan, “has it gone supernova?”
“You know why?” Benji finally shuts off his electric brain scrambler and joins me in the honeymoon suite. “Because we’re in Ha-fucking-waii,” he sings. “Have you looked at the view yet? Get up, you’ve gotta see this.” He points out the floor-to-ceiling windows. I peer over but my eyes tear up.
“I’m going to die.” I throw myself down under the covers and pull them over my head. “I’m so hungover.”
“Shocker.” I can almost hear his eye roll in his tone. “You mean to tell me the girl who filled three barf bags on the plane and then needed to be wheeled to our suite on a luggage rack had too much to drink yesterday?”
“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.” I grimace against the mattress as fuzzy memories float through my brain fog.
“No, it was cool. I loved how many people took pics of us. When I told them we were newlyweds, you could instantly see the pity in their eyes though …”
“Shut up.” I lunge up.
“But I was a trooper. You know why? Ten days in the honeymoon suite, that’s why. And, look around, Joss. It’s amazing.”
“No looking,” I groan. “I need room service.” I lurch to the side and grab the menu booklet from the table. “Here’s an idea, how about today we just chill? We’ll still have nine more after this. C’mon, we’ll watch sappy movies and order the”—I stare down at the words—“banana split waffles. I mean, those sound amazing, don’t they?” My belly rumbles with hunger but then lurches and I dry heave.
“Joss, you can’t even hold down the idea of banana split waffles, are you kidding me?” He shakes his head at me. “Here, let me grab you something.” He walks over to the minibar and yanks open the fridge. “There we go.” He pulls out a can of ginger ale.
“No, see if there’re any pickles in there.” I sit up taller.
“Pickles? It’s a minibar, not a deli. What do you want pickles for?”
“They help with hangovers, are you sure there’s none in there? Don’t people put pickles in drinks?” I ask wishfully.
“That’s disgusting. What kind of drinks have you been mixing? Dill sadness? This isn’t the morning after at some sorority house. Take this, it’ll help your stomach.” Benji crosses the room and holds out the can of pop at me.
Of course, I take it. Anything has to be better than the cracked-earth-under-a-scorching-sun feeling going on in my mouth right now.
“Listen, because I say this with love. As fun as sitting in a hotel room
drowning sorrows in vodka flavored Ben and Jerry’s would normally sound, we are in paradise, Joss. I mean, get your sweet SoulCycle ass over to this balcony and soak in this view.” Benji turns his head around so far, staring down at the beach, he almost looks like an owl. Of course, if I ever compared Benji to an owl, he’d be legitimately offended. There’s no owl in this world colorful enough to match him.
“Just one day,” I try again, but I know his mind is made up.
“No, you aren’t here to wallow, remember? You’re here to celebrate,” he answers.
“Celebrate what? Getting jilted?”
“In a way, yes. You’re going to celebrate not marrying an asshole. I know it doesn’t feel like it this second, but you dodged a bullet. Someday, when you’ve found the guy who treats you like a princess and fucks you like a dirty whore, you’re going to look back on this honeymoon and be grateful I made you get your ass outta bed. You gotta start living your best life. Today.”
“Benji, this literally happened three days ago. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to get over it like that.” I snap my fingers.
“Not if you sit here drowning in pity. Come on.” He tugs my hand dragging my unwilling ass out of bed. “See the hottie with the board shorts and the Matthew McConaughey vibe?”
“Uh, yeah.” I shade my sensitive eyes with my hands and gaze the way he’s pointing.
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