by R. J. Blain
“It’s not like you’re leaving the hotel room today. You can indulge, suffer for a while, and pass out afterwards. Nobody cares, and you could use the extra sleep. That’ll give Janette some peace and quiet. She might even like babying you.”
“Nobody wants to babysit him while he’s dying from his bad choices. They have vegan cheese,” I stated, pointing at the menu. “He can tell us if it’s any good. I’ll even join the cause and have vegan cheese on my vegetable-based salad. But he may not have any of my proper salad.”
Bradley’s father laughed and headed for the hotel phone, calling for room service and placing a ridiculous order, making certain Bradley escaped from being subjected to dairy. Once he got off the phone, he said, “The women in our lives are upset I let you both sleep through breakfast. I had to get your doctor to defend me, Janette.”
“Sleep is important?” I guessed.
“Fortunately for me, Dr. Mansfield stated sleep was important, and Bradley had basically wrapped himself around you, and you’d done your share of keeping a hold on him. My first attempt involved trying to get you to let go of his arm. I failed.”
Excellent. I smiled, and I shrugged. “He’s warm.”
“I went for the blanket next, but you both fought me in your sleep, which I recorded with some help from Dr. Mansfield, because it was rather hilarious. I finally got Bradley to wake up, but he refused to leave you, which eventually got you out of bed.”
“I’m not seeing the problem, Mr. Hampton.”
“Me, neither,” Bradley added.
“You missed breakfast, and your mothers have me on notice. If you miss lunch, I’ll be murdered by two angry mothers.”
My mother would, too. At the minimum, she’d pick a switch and give it to Mrs. Hampton so the problem would cease being a problem. “If she starts talking about getting new knives, that’s when you worry. If she isn’t discussing how best to cook you, as she hates waste, she probably didn’t mean it. Probably,” I teased.
Bradley snickered, and he freed himself from my clutches. “I’m going to take a quick shower, so if you need to use the bathroom, do so before I claim it as my territory.”
I bolted for the bathroom before it was taken over; unless he’d changed his stripes, Bradley lacked the capability of taking a quick shower, and he’d be ruling over the bathroom for an hour before letting anyone else have a turn. To show him how it was done, I finished my morning routine in five minutes flat, including giving my hair the quickest wash of my life.
“That is how you take a quick shower,” I informed him on my way out to play with my laptop, which waited for me at the desk. “I emailed you while you were sleeping last night.”
“Maybe I’ll just skip the shower and lure you into the tub with a book later.”
I kept my gaze focused on my laptop, sat down, and unlocked my system. “Please go get your own room, Mr. Hampton. I have a very important meeting scheduled for later, and it involves being lured into a tub with a book. I no longer wish to have adult supervision. I don’t wish supervision of any sort. Please tell my doctors I have been miraculously cured of all ailments.”
“And that’s my cue to see if there’s another available room in this hotel after we have lunch,” Bradley’s father announced. “The birth control is in your purse, and if you run out of condoms, text me, and I’ll go to the pharmacy. If there is insufficient birth control in the purse, there are two doctors in the hotel I can rope into taking care of that sort of thing. And if you opt against birth control, there would be two very happy mothers, and my lifespan would be greatly extended.”
I raised a brow, refusing to look away from my email, which had new messages from family and friends, most of them asking numerous questions about my current status. My mother led the charge on the hunt for grandchildren, although her inquiry on if I needed handcuffs might scar me for years to come. “My mother emailed me asking if I want handcuffs, Mr. Hampton.”
“Your mother is a menace,” he muttered, soft enough I suspected he hadn’t meant for me to hear him.
“Yes, she is. A grandchild-seeking menace. Just because I agreed to an engagement doesn’t mean I plan to have children right away.”
“I can verify the birth control was my mother’s contribution to your purse. She is of the opinion any children should be discussed, planned for, and wanted without reservation,” Bradley said, laughing and heading into the bathroom. “Don’t scare her off, Dad.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s out to scare me off. Don’t you care about your old man?”
“No.”
Bradley’s firm statement made me laugh. “That was harsh, Bradley. You do care about him.”
“When he’s at a distance and not interfering with my ability to lure you back into the tub so we can read books, I do care for him.”
“I don’t think he’s going to be embarrassed. That tactic simply won’t work against a man who has a son and a willingness to discuss the birth control he likely helped stash in my purse. He’s also one of the parties responsible for our status as engaged.”
“Have I told you that I love you recently, Dad?”
Mr. Hampton chuckled. “Not in those specific words, but I had guessed. If you’re serious about Hawaii, let me know before dinner so I can make plans.”
“I’d actually like to investigate where she was held first, if at all possible. Janette, do you think you could find your way back to the house?”
“I really don’t know, but we can try. But won’t that be dangerous?” The last thing I wanted was to go anywhere near that damned house, no matter how nice it looked on the outside. “Can’t we just use the internet? We can go browse the houses from the cars that take pictures on the street and identify it that way.”
Both men stared at me. The one I intended to marry raised a brow and didn’t seem impressed with my suggestion. His father’s eyes narrowed.
I read between the lines; both recognized I wanted to dodge the whole idea.
“I escaped that horror house, and I am not willfully returning to the horror house,” I informed them. “And I don’t care if there were no actual horrors performed there. It counts as a horror house.”
“It wasn’t quite a horror house, but you were exceptionally lonely,” Bradley’s father stated.
“You sensor types are all cheats,” I complained.
Bradley’s raised brow slid into a knowing smirk.
“You are the worst of the cheats, Bradley Hampton!”
Bradley’s father chuckled. “It ruins everything when the man can easily tell when the woman is interested, doesn’t it?”
I scowled. “That’s how you roped his mother, isn’t it? You called her out.”
“That has happened a few times. Hell, who am I kidding? All the time. She’s so bad at just taking what she wants. So damned polite. So, I cheat and check often. If you don’t express your interest, he’ll do the same, as I raised him to treat women right. And that means cheating for her benefit whenever possible.”
Bradley shrugged. “It’s true. I really didn’t understand why Dad would change our plans without warning after giving my mother a kiss on the cheek, but I figured it out fairly quickly. I’ve learned to not touch my mother when she’s eyeing my father. Some things a son doesn’t want to know.”
Well, I threw away any hope of hiding my interest in him. “Do I score points for good behavior?”
Bradley snickered. “Yes. And don’t feel like you should be embarrassed. I’ve grown up with this since I hit puberty, and what I didn’t figure out on my own, Dad taught me. I’ll admit, you threw me for a loop every damned time. You’d look cold, but you’d be running hot. And I appreciated I was the reason you were running hot, but I had no idea what to do about it beyond be a gentleman.”
“Stop being a gentleman,” I suggested.
Bradley’s father whistled and stared in the direction of the door. “I hope the hotel has a free room.”
“I’m sure you can wait until lunch is here befo
re worrying about it.”
“I think I’ll just step downstairs and find out now, as I’ll have to make alternative plans if there isn’t a free room.”
“How long do we have this room for, anyway?”
“A week,” Bradley said. “We got lucky and could extend the stay once we located you. They probably have extra rooms. It’s a huge hotel.”
Bradley’s father fled the room, and I laughed. “He ran away, Bradley. I’m not even…” I waved my hand, uncertain of how to inform him I was not currently on the prowl for something a little more than reading books in the tub.
“He jumps to certain conclusions because we’re young and neither one of us have had any interactions with someone of the opposite gender. He assumes you are like my mother, who is, frankly spoken, a great deal randier than I’m comfortable admitting.”
My eyes widened. “Oh.”
“I really have no idea why I’m an only child.”
I pointed in the direction of my purse.
He stared at it, sighed, and nodded. “I was probably enough to make my parents reconsider having more children, especially when they could snatch up Jez without having to deal with labor.”
“Very sensible of them, really. Labor does not sound fun.” By not fun, I feared the whole damned pregnancy, although I’d deal with it for the results of said pregnancy. “It sounds traumatic, honestly.”
He nodded.
We spent a rather uncomfortable few minutes in silence, until I asked, “How do you think twenty-seven hours of foot torture compares to labor?”
“My mother likes telling me my big head about killed her, but she did it while smiling, so I don’t know. Maybe she felt I was worth the hassle?”
I regarded my foot with interest. “I think my foot is worth some suffering, so I would probably figure any child of mine would also be worth some suffering. Do you think we’d have librarians?”
“I’m not sure it works that way,” he admitted. “But I’m game to try to have a future librarian. Librarians seem to run in both of our families, so there would have to be decent odds of our children being predisposed for librarianism.”
“Librarianism? What on Earth is librarianism?”
“It’s like vampirism but with librarians. Librarians are mystical beings, likely inflicted with some form of genetic mutation I hereby dub to be librarianism.” Bradley smiled, and after a moment, he grinned with zero evidence of shame over toying with me and my career of choice. “As I have a genetic predisposition for librarianism from my mother, it’s possibly this affliction might be passed on to our children.”
“Affliction!”
He burst into laughter. “You’re so easy, Janette.”
“You are evil, and I will make you pay for that.”
“As my father does give me good advice at times, and you told me to stop being a gentleman, will you be naked when you’re making me pay?”
“Ask me again after lunch.”
Lunch did me in, and rather than stripping Bradley out of his clothes, the instant his father relocated himself to his own room, down a floor and on the other side of the hotel, we indulged in a bath. Bradley read while I napped, and once we turned into prunes, he hauled me out of the tub and took me to bed, where I resumed my nap until dinner time. His father made a reappearance to make sure we ate, but I clocked out again until morning.
I woke before Bradley, escaped his clutches long enough to retrieve my purse and browse the offered variants of birth control, separated them by who was meant to make use of it, and picked up my favorite of the lot, one I’d used as a teen and a young adult when Bradley’s mother had realized my mother likely had zero idea what birth control was or how it should be used.
I’d used it for a while, as it helped with the cramps, but after I’d hit twenty-two, realized I had no interest in men or dating, I’d stopped, pleased to discover the treatment had done me long-term good. Now, with more wisdom and the realization I had been interested in a man and dating, but only with a certain man, I viewed the birth control in a whole new light.
It provided infinite possibilities. I could use it, choose not to use it, only make use of condoms, or get tested for various illnesses and opt against using anything at all. Once I decided which course I wanted to take, I’d then have to discuss it with Bradley, as we had an equal say in what we did or didn’t do.
I glared at the options, eyeing the condoms and the long-term controls with zero idea what I wanted to do about the unexpected situation I found myself in.
“The condoms are the easiest of the lot to deal with, and there’s no uncertainty about fertility after their use. Birth controls, in the various pill or injection formats, are quite handy, but there’s evidence some women become permanently infertile as a result of their use. The one for men also has the same problem,” an amused Bradley said from behind me.
I turned to face him, pointing at my purse. “Your parents think we’re going to turn into rampaging sex fiends, considering how many birth control products I found in that thing.”
“That thing is your purse, and yes. It turns out my mother and my father both went to the pharmacy on our behalf. My mother is responsible for the various long-term options, and my dad is the one responsible for the variety of condoms. While you were sleeping, I got the lecture. Repeatedly.”
“Okay. There are too many options here, Bradley.” I showed him the long-term pills I had grown up using. “It can take up to two years to become fertile again on these.”
“I don’t know if I want to wait two years before attempting to bring forth an infant librarian into the world,” he admitted. “Honestly, I’m quite interested in raising an entire flock of librarians.”
“Librarians gather in flocks?”
“I figured a flock could be up to three. A horde of librarians seems intimidating. My parents only had me, but I suspect librarians are easier to raise than young sons named Bradley. We can provide them with books and instill a driving need to help others. Please do not make us name a son Bradley.”
“I have enough trouble with the one Bradley I have in my life,” I informed him. “I do not need to court additional trouble by naming a child Bradley.”
He chuckled. “Do you think Mickey will help us in the appropriate rearing of a librarian son? Most inflicted with librarianism seem to be women.”
“We could just have a lot of girls and secure future librarians that way,” I countered. “That’s on you, by the way.”
“I feel I should request a great deal of practice. It could matter.”
I eyed the rather obscene collection of condoms. “I think your father supports the idea of us getting in a lot of practice.”
“My father is aware of the realities of my magic. I’m more patient than he is, although not by much. My patience has worn thin.”
I got up, went to the door, grabbed the do not disturb sign, hung it on the knob, and made certain the deadbolt was in the locked position. “My doctor told me I’ll need a lot of physical therapy to put back on some pounds and get back into shape. I’m ready for my exhaustive first treatment.”
“I’m not sure that’s what she meant, but okay.”
“If she’d meant something else, she should have given us better directions.”
“I like the way you think.”
FOURTEEN
I will make you pay for this.
While I had expected pleasure, the peace and comfort took me by surprise. Thanks to his abilities, my fiancé clued into my state of mind, and he went out of his way to pursue my peace and comfort even more than our pleasure. At some point, the significance of having lost so much time hit me hard.
I tried to avoid crying in front of anyone, but once the first tears appeared, I proved unable to fight them off. Bradley held me until I ran out of tears, and then he worked to replace my anguish with better things.
My new and improved physical therapy plan exhausted me, and when we weren’t indulging, I bathed with Bradley wh
ile reading books, ate, or slept. After describing what I remembered of the house, Bradley began his search using a map app to attempt to find the place. He figured, in my condition, it couldn’t have been more than two to five miles from the beach, as he doubted I would have made it farther than that without collapsing.
Considering how I struggled to stay awake, I agreed with him. Rather than go on a trip to Hawaii, Bradley issued a single threat, one that made it clear I was a goner: I could either go on a drive to see the houses he found or else. The else involved not needing any condoms because he’d be too busy arguing with me over visiting the houses to indulge.
Bradley’s father, who’d been sacrificed to go out and buy me some clothes and everything else I needed to survive away from home, snickered every time we saw him, although he was kind enough not to say a word about my new state of supremely frustrated.
“I will make you pay for this,” I swore, ridding my purse of all things sexual save a single strip of condoms, which I hid in the inner zipper pocket.
“Will you be naked when you’re making me pay?”
His new favorite retort, considering he kept his promise to abstain until I agreed to go on a drive to look for the house, would drive me insane. “I won’t be if you keep making up these stupid rules!”
“I’m not going to make you go into the house, but it would be really nice if we could identify the place so we can start putting together a case. There are a few properties we want to check, and none of the road view pictures show the right windows, so we need to go prowl around and have a look. Unless your kidnappers are in league with one of us, all they know is that you escaped. We haven’t made a formal announcement that you have been found. The last thing they’ll expect is you to return to where you were kept. It’ll be fine.”
“But it might not be.”
“Janette.”
“You’re going to make me do this, aren’t you?”
“It’s a good idea. If you can get over this, the next thing you know, you’ll be taking that new foot of yours on a test drive.”