Honeymoon from Hell II, Page 4

  She screamed his name.

  Chapter 5

  “Oh, my God, you are,” gag, “the best!” Zoe said, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth as she was forced once again to stop on the gangplank, grab onto the rail, bend over and take a deep breath as she struggled not to throw up.

  “Is everything okay, miss?” one of the ship’s crew asked as he held out his hand to help Zoe up the rest of the way, but one glare from Trevor had the man dropping his hand quickly and taking a hasty step back.

  “I’m fine,” she said with a huge smile as she continued the rest of the way up the gangplank, looking really excited even while she looked like she was going to be sick at any moment.

  “Baby, are you sure?” he asked, placing his hand on her lower back as apprehension tingled up his spine, making him wonder if this was such a good idea after all.

  “I just haven’t taken my pill yet,” she reassured him with another one of those smiles that managed to make him smile back and quickly forget about any lingering misgivings that he may have had about taking her on this trip.

  “Why don’t we go take care of that right now?” he suggested with a smile for his wife even as he sent the man waiting to take their bags to their suite a look that told him that he better move his ass.

  Three hours later, he decided that taking his wife on a cruise for their honeymoon was fucking genius. Thanks to the pill his uncle had prescribed for her morning sickness, a shower to help her relax after they were forced to go through the ship’s mandatory emergency drill, the last minute deal that his travel agent had managed to get them for this mini-suite and the fact that his wife was naked and wet in his arms, he was definitely feeling good about this honeymoon.

  “What do you want to do first?” he asked, running his hands down her damp back and down to her ass, eliciting a moan of pleasure from her as he kissed and nibbled her neck, praying that the first thing that she wanted to do was to test out the queen size bed only a few feet away.

  “I was thinking,” she said with a sheepish little smile as she stood on her toes so that she could press a kiss to his chin, “that I could take a nap? I’m kind of tired.”

  “Of course,” he said, smiling as he pulled back just a bit so that she wouldn’t realize that he’d had other plans for that bed.

  Apparently, he wasn’t able to hide his hopeful intentions from her, because she sent him an apologetic smile as she pulled back, grabbed one of his shirts from his bag, pulled it on and curled up in the middle of the bed. Before he could ask her if she wanted company, she was softly snoring and he was left standing there having absolutely no fucking clue what he should do while she slept.

  He’d never been on a cruise before and to be honest, he’d never had any interest in going on one, but he was on one now for one simple reason.

  His wife.

  She’d always wanted to go on a real vacation, but had never been able to afford one before. She didn’t like talking about growing up in foster care, but from what little she’d told him, he knew that the day trips that she’d gone on with the group homes she’d stayed at and the small weekend trips that a few foster families had taken her along on in no way counted as a vacation. At least, not in his opinion and now that she was part of his family, he was going to fix that.

  He’d take her all over the world if that’s what she wanted. He’d work weekends and nights, sell all of his properties to make it happen, anything to make her happy, but first he had to figure out something to do to kill the next hour or two so that his beautiful wife could catch up on some much needed sleep. He considered crawling in bed behind her just so that he could hold her, but then decided that pressing up against all her delicious curves would probably make it difficult for him to keep his hands off her and since he was trying to behave, that just wouldn’t work for him.

  He looked around the suite, noting the small love seat and the flat screen television on the wall and dismissed the idea of watching television to kill some time. She needed sleep and he was damn well going to make sure that she got some, which meant that he was going to have to kill a few hours walking around a really big fucking ship with nothing to do.

  Throwing his beautiful wife one last glance, he walked over to the small table in the corner, scribbled a note letting her know where he was going and placed it on the pillow by her head. Unable to help himself, he leaned over and kissed her forehead, chuckling as he moved back and out of the way as she swatted at him in her sleep. Grumbling something that made him smile, she turned over onto her side, curled up, snuggled back into her pillow and commenced with the cute little snores that he would happily listen to for the rest of his life.

  Deciding that there was nothing else to do, he quickly changed into a pair of cargo shorts and a grey Bradford Construction tee shirt. Unable to help himself once again, he leaned over, kissed his wife and chuckled when she went to swat at him again. Sending her one last look, he grabbed his keycard and headed for the door, wondering how he was going to kill the next few hours. He let himself out, making sure to close the door quietly behind him.

  “May I tidy your room and store your luggage for you, sir?” a cruise employee asked with a congenial smile as he came to a stop in front of Trevor.

  “My wife is sleeping,” Trevor said, gesturing for the man to continue on his way.

  The employee nodded. “I’ll make sure that I keep the hallways quiet, sir.”

  “Thank you,” Trevor said, before adding with a proud smile simply because he couldn’t believe it, “she’s pregnant.”

  The man’s smile instantly warmed. “Congratulations, sir.”

  “Thank you,” Trevor murmured as he walked away, shaking his head in wonder.

  In a matter of months he was going to be a father and he couldn’t fucking wait. He was going to work his ass off to be the best father to his children. He didn’t care if they were as smart as his cousin Jason or dyslexic like him, he was going to love them and be there for them. He was never going to make his children feel like shit, unwanted or like some fucking obligation that he got stuck with because he forgot to use a condom one night.

  His children were going to know from the start that they were loved and fucking adored. He’d always be there for them.

  Always.

  The same could be said for Zoe. Like the rest of the men in his family he took his marriage vows seriously. He would never fuck around on her. He would never want to or feel the need to cheat on her. Bradford men were raised to take marriage seriously. When you gave a woman your word that you would always be there for her, take care of her, love her and cherish her, you did it.

  Bradfords took marriage fucking seriously, which is why the men in his family didn’t marry unless they were out of their fucking minds and ready to make someone else the center of their world, to put someone else’s needs and wants first. For years he never thought that he’d ever really find the one that he would give anything just to see smile. He always thought that when he got married that it would be to a woman that met every single one of his requirements, but then came along Zoe…

  Christ, she blew away everything that he ever thought that he would want in a woman. She was……she was…

  She was fucking everything to him.

  “Excuse me? Could you hand me a towel?” a beautiful brunette wearing a barely-there two-piece bikini asked with a coy smile as she reached up and pushed back a strand of wet hair behind her ear.

  Trevor barely spared her a glance as he reached over grabbed a towel off a cart, tossed it to her as he stepped past her and out the door onto the sunlit deck where dozens of couples were walking around, smiling and looking like there was no where else on earth that they’d rather be than strolling around this damn boat while all he wanted to do was to go back to his room and curl up with his cranky wife and watch the game.

  Sighing, he walked past a young couple wearing matching baby pink shirts declaring that they were honeymooners and rolled his eyes. Fucking pat
hetic, he thought, feeling bad for the poor bastard that was already whipped. That was definitely no way to start a marriage, he mused absently as he pulled his cellphone out to see if he’d missed a call or a text from Zoe, letting him know that she needed him before he shoved it back in his pocket and stepped around the poor bastard that had willingly given up his rights to call himself a man and strolled down the deck, keeping to the left and out of the way of couples and children rushing over to the railing to stare at the ocean.

  Seven fucking days on a boat, he thought miserably. What the hell was he supposed to do for seven days? he wondered. Well, he knew exactly what he wanted to do for seven straight days, but he didn’t think that his wife would be on board with his plans. He could have happily spent their honeymoon at home, in their bed, fucking her blind and been able to honestly say that it was the perfect honeymoon, but his wife would have been disappointed.

  Not with the sex, he mentally corrected with a chuckle and a wistful sigh, but with the honeymoon. Zoe wanted to travel, to take real vacations and even though he was content with the trips that he took with his family every year, he’d happily take her wherever she wanted to go no matter how bored out of his fucking mind he was. Maybe there was a lounge or somewhere that he could kill a couple of hours, he hoped as he passed several signs for a kids’ center, the entrance for the water slide and spa. When he saw the sign for the casino he sighed and kept walking.

  There had to be a bar or a lounge somewhere on this fucking ship, he thought as he walked past a large pool, deciding that if he couldn’t find somewhere decent to grab a beer and catch the game that he’d find a spot by the pool to lounge and kill time with a few beers while he waited for Zoe to wake up. Maybe he could…he….could…he…

  “No fucking way,” he murmured softly to himself even as he closed his eyes and slowly reopened them, praying like hell that he was just seeing things, but when he opened them, the sign was still there.

  Licking his lips, he walked forward as though he was in a trance and reached for the doorknob with a trembling hand, praying like hell that this wasn’t some kind of sick joke, and walked inside, letting the door marked, “Buffet,” close slowly behind him.

  Chapter 6

  “Well, this is kind of boring,” Zoe had to admit even as she reached down and straightened the pillow with a discerning eye, pulling it slightly this way and that way until at last it was perfect and she was officially out of things to do while she waited for Trevor’s return.

  She looked over at the small alarm clock by the bed and sighed before glancing back down at the note that he’d left her. He should have been back by now, she thought, worrying her bottom lip as she considered pulling out her cell and texting him, but two things stopped her. One, she didn’t want to start off their marriage as a nagging wife, always demanding to know what he was doing and who he was with. She’d never been that type of person before and she didn’t plan on starting now.

  The other reason she wasn’t trying to text him of course was very simple, she had absolutely no idea if they were in international waters yet and wasn’t exactly eager to find out the text and calling rates. Call her crazy, but she wasn’t willing to spend half her paycheck just to find out what her husband was up to…

  “Oh, God,” she thought, chewing her bottom lip as she struggled not to smile and quickly lost that battle.

  She was married to Trevor and carrying his babies, which had the terrifying ability to frighten her just a bit so she decided to focus on something other than the fact that she could now eat more than her husband and most of the men in his family. She picked up their empty luggage and squeezed them inside the small closet in the corner, double checked her outfit, which unfortunately did nothing to hide the fact that she could lose a few pounds.

  Shoving that rather depressing thought aside and the reminder that carrying Bradford twins was only going to make her bigger, she decided to focus on the fact that she was on her first real vacation and she was going to damn well enjoy it. Determined to pretend that she wasn’t the chubbiest woman on the ship, she grabbed her keycard, pulled the edge of her tank top down in a futile attempt to hide her full figure, checked her hair and left the room, deciding to have a look around while she went looking for her husband.

  She walked down a short hallway before she came to a door that led to a large pool deck where children were running and smiling, women were lounging by the water, enjoying the sun and the appreciative looks the men around them were sending their way. Zoe paused briefly by a railing to send a wistful glance at a set of empty lounge chairs and contemplated lying down for a few more minutes, a little terrified that after a five-hour nap that she was still tired.

  Then again, she could also go for something to eat. Actually, if she was going to be honest then she’d admit that she was starving and the sooner that she found Trevor so that they could grab dinner, the better. God, she couldn’t remember ever being this hungry before, but then again she seemed to be thinking that about twenty times a day.

  That actually brought up another interesting question, exactly how long would it be before all this food that she was forced to eat would start showing up in her ass and thighs? She was going to be huge, she thought miserably even as she accepted the inevitable, because really, there wasn’t anything that she could do about it now, not when she was carrying Bradford twins. She started to head down the stairs when she realized with dread and a pathetic whimper that she was actually really hungry, again.

  At least her stomach wasn’t threatening to send her running to the bathroom, she realized, relieved that the pill that Trevor’s Uncle Ethan prescribed was still working. She walked by the entrance for the spa, making a mental note to check it out later and kept walking, glancing around, hoping to run into Trevor, but with every passing second it became obvious that she was either going to have to go back to the room and wait for him or hunt down a cruise ship employee and admit that the incredibly hot man that had somehow lost his mind and married her had probably come to his senses, jumped off the ship and was currently begging a judge to grant him an annulment.

  That rather depressing thought had her stopping in her tracks, turning around and heading back towards their room where she could do her best to stop the tears that were threatening to come, but then common sense kicked in and she couldn’t help but smile. Trevor Bradford, easily the hottest man that she had ever laid eyes on had dragged her across town, demanded that she marry him before he dragged her back home, determined to have his wicked way with her just to make sure that she was his.

  He loved her, she thought to herself with a ridiculously pleased smile as she turned right back around and decided to get something to eat while luck was still on her side and her stomach wasn’t making her wish for death. She could really go for a burger, maybe two, she decided, nearly sighing with relief when her stomach growled in approval, demanding that she move her ass a little faster and find something to eat. She’d look for Trevor, but only after she got something to eat, because she really didn’t think that passing out on the deck among hundreds of strangers would really be one of those magical moments that she would want to savor for the rest of her life.

  Food was definitely in order first. Then she was going to hunt down her husband so that they could start enjoying their honey-

  “Would Zoe Bradford please return to your room immediately,” came the intercom announcement, letting her know that she was going to have to put her plans off for a bit, which apparently didn’t set well with the twins that she was carrying…

  Not. At. All.

  *-*-*-*

  “Mr. Bradford, your wife will be here soon. Please, just try to calm down and-”

  “Kill. Me,” Trevor demanded as he grabbed the ship’s doctor by the collar and yanked him closer. “I don’t want her to see me like this!”

  The doctor released a long-suffering sigh as he reached up and easily removed Trevor’s weak grip from his barely wrinkled starched white shirt.
“Mr. Bradford,” he began in that tone that Trevor did not much care for, not at all, “you’re not dying.”

  “You don’t know that!” he snapped back weakly, closing his eyes as he gave up his attempts to shake some sense into the doctor and grabbed one of the thick fluffy pillows off the bed and hugged it with everything that he had, praying for a quick death before Zoe could see him like this.

  “Mr. Bradford,” the doctor began, but Trevor wasn’t about to let the judgmental bastard waste what precious seconds he had left with more of his bullshit.

  “Listen to me,” he bit out, squeezing his pillow tightly, pausing only long enough to slowly inhale, praying that it would be enough to settle the violent attack currently destroying him from the inside out, “I haven’t had a chance to change my will yet and my wife is pregnant,” he began only to let out a pathetic groan when the violent storm playing out in his stomach threatened to send him diving for the wastebasket.

  He just wanted to close his eyes and give in and die, but he needed to do this one thing first. He needed to do this for his wife and children. “I want my wife to inherit all my properties, my bank accounts, my life insurance, absolutely everything,” he said, pausing to swallow back the bile that once again threatened to take him to his knees, giving him further proof that the end was near as a thought occurred to him.

  “Except my Yankees memorabilia. Give that to my cousin Jason,” he managed to get out, pleased that he’d managed to do the right thing and protect his poor defenseless Yankees shirts and balls from the evil woman that fucking adored the Red Sox.

  The Red Sox?

  What kind of sick bastard would support a team like that? God, he must really love her, he realized with a pathetic groan as he curled up into a tighter ball, praying that one of his uncles or cousins stepped in and made sure that his children were raised right with Yankees posters on their walls and Yankees shirts on their backs. They’d step in and do the right thing if they saw Zoe trying to brainwash his children with all that Red Sox propaganda bullshit.