Honeymoon from Hell II

by R. L. Mathewson

  other than the fact that she was probably only minutes away from shoving Trevor aside and lunging for that toilet.

  “Well?” she asked when he didn’t say anything else.

  “Give me a minute,” he said tightly, sounding like he was struggling not to make a lunge of his own. Since she probably wouldn’t be able to hold back if she heard him lose it, she decided that it would probably be for the best if they sat there in complete silence for a few minutes and enjoy the peaceful sounds of air slowly blowing through the air ducts, filling the room with fresh air, which was probably why she hadn’t lost it yet.

  “Okay,” he finally said only to pause once again to take a deep breath before he continued, “according to Bradford lore-”

  “Bradford lore,” she interrupted him in a teasing tone that he simply ignored.

  “According to Bradford lore,” he said stressing the last part, and she didn’t need to open her eyes to know that he was probably glaring at her, “it’s bad luck to take your honeymoon before the first anniversary.”

  “Bad luck how?” she asked, mostly to keep him talking so that she could focus on his voice, amazed at just how much the sound of his voice was able to soothe her.

  “Because everything goes to hell.”

  Chapter 10

  “Uh….huh…,” Zoe said slowly in a way that told him exactly what she thought of his little announcement. “And what exactly does that mean?”

  He closed his eyes with a soft groan and dropped his head against the door. “It means exactly what it sounds like.”

  “It sounds like Bradford bullshit,” she said matter-of-factly, making him chuckle despite the fact that the slight motion of the boat made him want to curl up and die.

  Christ, why did the boat have to rock so fucking much?

  He chuckled weakly as he tightened his hold around her. “That’s what I thought too,” he said with a shrug before he admitted with a touch of embarrassment, “At least that’s what I hoped it was.”

  “Feel like explaining exactly what that means so that I can properly mock you?” she asked in that teasing tone that he loved so damn much.

  He felt his lips twitch even as his stomach lurched, threatening to put an end to this conversation before it even had a chance to start. He took a deep breath, wishing like hell that he’d listened to Jason and put this off until after they’d hit the one-year mark. If he had, they could be home right now, curled up in their bed, making love before grabbing a late snack and making love again.

  Instead, they were stuck here on this godforsaken boat, stuck in this fucking bathroom without their anti-nausea medication and talking about something that he’d always hoped was bullshit. Christ, if he’d married anyone else, he wouldn’t have given a flying fuck about making sure that giving her the perfect honeymoon. He would have just given her a wedding night and kept putting her off until after the one year mark, because he couldn’t possibly imagine going through this kind of bullshit for anyone else.

  “Apparently,” he started to say, and he really didn’t know why he was telling her this, “the men in my family have been cursed to fuck up for two hundred years or so. I’m not really sure when this started, but what I do know is that every Bradford that brought their wife on a honeymoon before the first anniversary always regretted it.”

  “And you regret taking me?” she asked, merely sounding curious when any other woman would probably be crying prettily and demanding that he make it up to her with declarations of love and promises to make it up to her, but not Zoe…

  “Yes,” he admitted, refusing to lie to his wife, even about this.

  “Because…” she prompted, making him smile despite the fact that the damn boat wouldn’t stop rocking.

  “You deserve better than a honeymoon where you’re forced to take care of me, because I had no fucking clue that I get seasick. You also deserved to wait until after you had the babies so that you could enjoy your first real vacation,” he admitted with a slight shake of his head until the movement threatened to unman him, “you deserved better than this.”

  She chuckled weakly as she leaned against him. “I have no complaints.”

  Sadly, he didn’t think she did either, which pissed him off more. She’d never had much, so she’d never expected much and he certainly fucking succeeded in making sure that trend had continued, he thought, feeling sick, which had absolutely nothing to do with the boat and everything to do with the fact that he’d failed his wife.

  She was his now, his responsibly, and his job to make sure that she finally had the life that she deserved. He should have done things right from the beginning, should have taken her out, worked his ass off to win her heart instead of pretending that the only thing that he wanted from her was sex when it had been more than obvious that he’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

  He couldn’t go back and make this right, but he could make it up to her. He would spend the rest of his life making this up to her, but first he needed to get her out of this damn bathroom and get her medication so that she could at least enjoy what was left of their trip.

  “I want a do-over,” he said, opening his eyes and forcing himself to stand up when all he wanted to do was to curl up with his wife on the floor and wait for the goddamn rocking to stop.

  “A do-over?” she asked slowly from where she sat on the floor.

  “Mmmhmm, a do-over,” he agreed, managing a tight nod as he placed his hands against the door and pushed with everything that he had, but the damn door wouldn’t budge.

  “What exactly is a do-over?” Zoe asked, pushing to her feet only to crawl back to the large shower, turn the hot water back on and settle limply in the corner with a mumbled, “Better, much better.”

  “Exactly what it sounds like,” he said absently as he grabbed the handle and tried to open the door, but the damn thing wouldn’t budge. After a few more tries he considered banging on the door and yelling for help, but common sense told him that it was pointless.

  So instead, he turned around, pressed his hand against his stomach and shuffled his way over to the shower where his wife was, praying that he’d make it without embarrassing himself. As soon as he reached the shower, he sat down, pressed his back against the wall and nearly groaned with releif when the hot water hit him.

  “Better?” Zoe asked as she carefully shifted until she was sitting between his legs and leaning back against him. As soon as her warm, soft back pressed against his stomach he moaned with pleasure.

  Christ, that felt good.

  “God, yes,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer as he closed his eyes and simply savored the woman in his arms and the hot water pouring down on them, helping them relax and somewhat settling their stomachs. He didn’t have to open his eyes to look down to know that she was smiling.

  He just knew.

  “I don’t want a different honeymoon,” she said, snuggling back against him, shifting his arms and in the process rubbing her large, wet breasts against his arms and making him wish like hell that they weren’t both sick to their stomachs, because she felt so fucking good in his arms.

  “Too bad,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss against her bare shoulder, “you’re getting one.”

  “I don’t get a say in this?” she asked, running her finger through the drops of water rolling down his arms.

  “No, you don’t,” he said, kissing the top of her head before he tilted his head back against the shower wall so that Zoe could lay her head against his chest and get more comfortable.

  “I see,” she murmured sleepily as she settled back against him.

  “After the babies are born, which I’m naming by the way,” he decided to remind her for the sake of their unborn children, “and you feel comfortable being away from them for a few nights, we’re going to do this again.”

  “Another cruise?” she asked, trying to sound casual, but he wasn’t buying it.

  “We can go on another cruise,”
he said, chuckling when she shifted anxiously against him, trying to hide how excited she was about the prospect of going on another cruise.

  “I suppose we could do that,” she said, adding a little shrug that had him smiling. “If you think you can handle it, that is.”

  “I’ll bring plenty of medicine next time. Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he promised her as he tightened his arms around her and sighed, savoring the hot water as he made a mental note to stash his anti-nausea medication in every room of their suite the next time.

  “How long do you think it will be until they find us?” she asked after a few minutes of companionable silence.

  It probably wouldn’t be until late morning, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her that, so instead, he simply kissed the top of her head and held her closer as he imagined that they were somewhere else, preferably somewhere that wasn’t constantly rocking back and forth…back and forth…back and-

  “Oh, fuck,” he managed to get out before he was forced to carefully set his wife aside and added a whole new level of fucked up to their honeymoon.

  Chapter 11

  “I think it would be for the best if we never spoke again or made eye contact for that matter,” Trevor said, pointedly looking away from her and out the large floor to ceiling glass window of the small airport terminal.

  “For how long exactly?” she had to ask as she forced herself to bite back a smile that would probably prolong this little pout fest, which she had to admit was entertaining her.

  “For eternity,” he said, folding his large arms over his chest as he pointedly glared at one of the large airplanes that was taxiing down the runway and was that a blush creeping up his neck?

  Yes, yes it was, she realized, forced to bite back yet another smile as she suddenly found the small snack store to the right extremely interesting. He was just so damn cute, but she knew him well enough to know that he probably wouldn’t appreciate the compliment right now. The man was embarrassed, which was kind of silly considering that they’d been trapped in that bathroom for eight hours before someone finally found them and another hour before maintenance was able to get them out of there.

  She’d managed to bite back most of the morning sickness with hot showers, a few hot baths and slowly sipping cold water from the tap, but not Trevor. Every little noise and movement seemed to set off his seasickness and once it started, it wouldn’t stop. He’d spent the majority hugging the toilet, groaning miserably and begging her to kill him and put him out of his misery.

  When she’d refused, he’d glared at her, in between dry heaving of course. Even as sick as she’d felt, she’d felt bad for him. He’d looked so miserable sitting there on the floor, hugging the toilet and begging her to close her eyes and block her ears so that he could “maintain what was left of his dignity as he died like a man.”

  His words.

  Not hers.

  Apparently it was okay for him to kneel by her side, hold her hair out of the way and press a cold cloth to her forehead and the back of her neck when she was sick and didn’t want him to see that, but it was completely a different story when the big baby wasn’t feeling good. When she tried to remind him of the vows they’d taken, through sickness and health he’d simply cut her off by demanding that she close her eyes, hum and go to her happy place while he did what needed to be done. The only time he’d allowed her to touch him was when they sat in the shower or when he kneeled by the tub and hung his head so that she could run her fingers through his hair as he gently caressed her stomach. Other than that she was forbidden to acknowledge his presence in any way and it hadn’t gotten any better since they were rescued.

  He refused to look at her, barely said two words to her and hadn’t stopped pouting or glaring since he’d grudgingly given in and accepted the cruise ship’s generous offer to refund their money and arrange for a flight home. They had another hour before their flight took off and honestly, she wasn’t really sure that she could take another minute of him acting like this. She was exhausted, hungry and getting crankier by the moment and the last thing she had patience for was a grown man pouting.

  Realizing that she was seconds from taking her souring mood out on him or doing something stupid like crying, she stood up, grabbed her purse and headed for the snack shop. She was relieved when he didn’t follow her, because she honestly needed a break from his bad attitude. She’d waited her whole life to go on a real vacation, somewhere to relax and enjoy herself, get pampered and take a break from a real world and he was ruining it for her.

  She wasn’t mad that they had to call an end to their trip early, especially after the bathroom incident, but his bad attitude was killing any remaining joy that she had left for this trip. It had been her first vacation and even though it hadn’t been perfect, she’d enjoyed herself. She’d enjoyed walking along the deck, staring out at the ocean, visiting that beautiful tropical island even though all she got to do was hang out in waiting rooms and sit in taxis, it had been a wonderful experience for her. For a first real trip, she had no real complaints because she knew there would be more trips in the future with Trevor and then one day, with their children, so she wasn’t going to allow herself to get hung up because one trip that hadn’t ended well. They had a lifetime together and the big jerk was hell bent on pouting over something that was over and done with.

  “You’re mad,” he whispered as she felt his arms wrap around her waist and pull her close.

  “I’m fine,” she lied, focusing all of her attention on the selection of candy bars and snacks in front of her as she struggled not to cry.

  He chuckled softly as he kissed her cheek. “No, you’re not.”

  “I am,” she said, hating the way that her voice broke.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, giving her another kiss before he released her and grabbed a few candy bars before he stepped away from her and walked over to the coolers.

  Needing something to do, she grabbed a king sized Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup bar and headed towards the small line waiting at the cash register. A few seconds later he joined her, but he didn’t say anything as they waited to pay for their stuff. Five minutes later she was sitting in her chair, staring down at the unopened candy bar in her hand as she struggled not to cry.

  The funny thing was, she had absolutely no idea why she felt like crying. She also felt like stealing his orange juice so she did that, not even bothering to look his way as she did it, because she knew that if he bitched about it that she would probably start crying hysterically while she kicked the shit out of his ankles.

  She also wanted a nap…a nap and a soak in a hot bathtub followed by another nap and that Milky Way candy bar that he was holding so she simply reached over and took it. She silently dared for him to argue and bitch about taking his food, but he smartly kept his mouth shut. When she finished the drink and candy bar that she’d helped herself to, she couldn’t help but notice the bag of chips that he was now holding. Deciding that a salty treat sounded good, she reached over and snatched the bag out of his hands and then the bottle of water he started to open.

  Still he said nothing.

  He didn’t say anything as she finished off the chips and the water or when she suddenly placed a hand over her mouth and one over her stomach, jumped to her feet and ran towards the ladies room. He still didn’t say anything when he followed her into the stall, closed the door behind them and locked it or when he knelt down by her side and brushed her hair out of the way so that he could rub her back.

  “I’m fine,” she gasped, panting a bit a few minutes after everything that she’d consumed had made a reappearance.

  “You need to take your medicine,” he said softly as he continued to rub her back.

  “I’m planning on taking them when we board the plane,” she explained even as she squeezed her eyes shut, praying that she wasn’t about to have a repeat of the last five minutes.

  “Sir? I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. This is the wome
n’s bathroom,” a woman with a raspy voice said firmly.

  “My wife’s sick,” Trevor said, continuing to rub her back and letting her know that he had absolutely no intention of leaving her while she was like this.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to insist that you leave this bathroom now,” the woman said more firmly and Zoe didn’t need to take a peek outside the stall to know that the woman probably had her walkie-talkie in hand, ready to call for backup if Trevor didn’t comply immediately.

  “I’m fine,” Zoe said, licking her lips as she shook her head, trying to will the nausea away. “Just go,” she said, in no mood to beg airport security to release her husband. It just wasn’t the way that she wanted to end their honeymoon. Granted, she also didn’t want to end her honeymoon the way that it was already heading, but at least she had a choice in how she spent the next few days. She could either spend them pouting at home or working on getting him bailed out of jail and trying to arrange another way home.

  “Fine, but I’ll be right outside waiting for you if you need anything,” he said, not sounding particularly happy about leaving her, but he didn’t have a choice and he knew it.

  Without another word, he left. As soon as he was gone she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, willed her stomach to stop putting her through hell and stood up. She wasn’t exactly surprised to find the female security officer standing by the door when she finally left the stall, guarding the door to make sure that Trevor didn’t return. The officer didn’t say anything, but the expression on her face told Zoe that she wasn’t exactly what she’d expected to find.

  It was a look that she was going to have to get used to, she