Honeymoon from Hell II (Honeymoon from Hell 2)

Great, just great…

For a few minutes she stood there, contemplating shoving the large bastard off the chair and reclaiming it as her own, but it would probably only earn her a glare and another one of those apologies that made her want to beat the shit out of him with one of the lumpy, yellow stained pillows on the bed. Shooting him a glare of her own, she turned around and carefully laid the towel on the bed and then added the one that she was wearing, deciding that Trevor’s discarded shirt would have to be sacrificed this night to save her skin from the questionable stains and odors decorating the bedspread.

Praying that she didn’t end up contracting lice, bed bugs or worse, she walked over to where Trevor’s shirt laid on the bureau and-

“I’m sorry,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulled her against his warm body. “I’m so sorry about this whole fucking trip, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her bare shoulder before he added, “but don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.”

Closing her eyes, she sighed, hating herself for what she had to do, but he’d left her with no other choice, now had he?

Chapter 13

“What the hell are you doing?” he snapped, doing his best to avoid her next assault even as he tried his best not to do anything that would make the crazed woman get hurt while she was attacking him with the lumpiest pillow that he’d ever seen, or rather, felt.

“Stop saying that you’re sorry!” she yelled, landing an impressive blow to his back with the pillow that was starting to give off the scent of urine, vomit and some other unknown and equally offensive odor with every blow.

Unable to take another second of that nauseating odor, he grabbed the pillow from his wife, pretending that he didn’t notice the greasy texture coating the stained pillowcase, and tossed it over his shoulder. “What the hell is wrong with you, woman?” he demanded as he was forced to place himself between her and the bed when she went to grab the other pillow.

“Stop saying you’re sorry!” she repeated with a vicious glare that had his balls pulling up tight in a desperate attempt to get out of her reach.

“Why?” he snapped, frustrated beyond belief that he had absolutely no idea what to say to this woman to make this right for her.

“Because even though this trip wasn’t perfect, it was still the best trip that I’ve ever been on and you ruined it!” she snapped through trembling lips as she yanked his shirt on and roughly wiped away the tears beginning to spill down her face and making this a thousand times worse for him.

“I didn’t know that I was going to get sick!” he snapped right back, having absolutely no idea how to talk to her when she was this pissed and praying like hell that he didn’t end up saying something stupid that was going to end up pushing her away.

“I’m not mad because you got sick, you jerk! I’m pissed because you were so damn determined to focus on what went wrong with this trip that you didn’t even try to enjoy it!”

“It’s pretty fucking hard to enjoy something when I’m locked in a bathroom, our luggage getting stolen, being unable to stand without feeling like shit or being forced to watch my wife suffer since I couldn’t fucking get your pills because I was fucking dying!” he shouted and he would have said more, oh so much more, but the little snort of amusement had his rant coming to an abrupt halt and his eyes narrowing suspiciously on the small, deliciously curved woman in front of him, desperately trying to hold back her amusement, but he could see it in her eyes that it was a quickly losing battle.

“Yeah, it was a close call,” she managed to get out with a snort of amusement as she bit her bottom lip and looked away, clearly struggling not to laugh, which of course pleased him.

It was the closest that she’d come to smiling in days and he’d be damned if he was going to let her keep it from him. So, biting back a smile of his own, he did what he had to do.

He used typical Bradford bullshit to make his wife smile.

“I could have died!” he pointed out dramatically, deciding that even Jason couldn’t have done a better job.

She cleared her throat and said, “Yes, yes you could have.”

“I could have!”

“Mmmhmmm,” she murmured, pressing her lips tightly together as she struggled not to laugh so he kept pushing, refusing to stop until he got that smile from her.

“It was a close call! I’m lucky to have survived!”

A snort of amusement escaped those beautiful lips before she asked, “From seasickness?” obviously forgetting just how close to death he really came.

Typical, he thought with an inward sigh…

“From starvation!” he snapped, insulted that she could belittle his brush with death.

“Ummm,” she muttered as

her lips twitched with amusement as she reached up and rubbed the back of her neck as she searched for the right words, “it was only a couple of days.”

“It was thirty-six hours of hell!” he snapped, wondering how a woman that was supposed to love and adore him could forget something like that. “I’m dangerously underweight now!”

Her eyebrows shot up in stunned surprise as she shot him a questioning look while she took in his large frame. “You weigh over two hundred pounds,” she pointed out unnecessarily in his opinion.

“I lost ten pounds!”

“Really?” she said with that same stunned expression that was going to get her beautiful ass spanked, “because you really can’t tell.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

Her answer was a shrug that had his eyes narrowing on her.

“Are you calling me fat?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing to slits on the woman who was clearly enjoying herself.

“Well…,” she said with a shrug, letting her words trail off with a look that said it all.

God, he fucking loved this woman, he thought with a wicked smile as he grabbed her by his shirt and yanked her up on her toes and kissed the cruel woman, who so easily dismissed his brush with death.

*-*-*-*

There really was nothing like teasing her husband, she thought with a smile as she wrapped her arms around him and happily returned his kiss.

“You’re a cruel woman,” he said against her lips as he tore open her shirt.

“You knew that when you married me,” she reminded him with a groan as he released the remains of the shirt on the floor, leaned down, grabbed her by the back of her thighs and picked her up.