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Authors: Rachael Herron

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BOOK: Honeymooning
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“See?” she murmured as she ran a light trail of kisses along his cheek, then his jaw line. His hands closed around her waist, pulling her closer. “I only need one thing.”

Tom groaned and brought his mouth almost to hers, so that she could feel the warmth of his lips. “What’s that?” he whispered.

“You,” she whispered back. With a growl, he closed the space between them, claiming her mouth. Then, his hands still at her waist, he half-stood, spinning her onto her back on the bed, moving so that his body covered hers.

“Maybe we should practice number six right now,” he said, sliding his fingers under the edge of her shirt. “Just to make sure we get it right.”

Janet laughed, bubbles of delight rising through her from her toes all the way up. “Husband, I think you’re absolutely correct.”
 

 

Much later in the afternoon, Janet lay on her side, her head cradled on Tom’s shoulder. He played idly with a long strand of her hair while his other hand stroked her back.

“I feel perfect,” she said.

“You do,” he agreed.

“This resort has the right idea. Naked is exactly how we should be.” A small pause. “Do we have any food?”

Tom turned his head to look at her, a smile playing across his lips. “You’re starving.”

“Well! I’m not
un
hungry, I guess.”

“You’re always starving after sex.”

Janet rolled onto her back, stretching. It was true. She was always
ravenous
after sex, as if one appetite rolled into the next, taking its original strength with it, like waves merging in the sea. “Sandwiches,” she said. “With roast beef and mustard. Or a big omelette! Cupcakes. Do you think they have room service here?”

“I hope to God they do,” said Tom. “They have to.”

A knock sounded at the door, a sudden rapping of knuckles that shot them both upright.

“Hell,” said Tom. “That’s not room service.”

“Who is it?”

“You think I know?”

Janet clutched the sheet to her chest. “You answer it.”

He started gathering his clothes together, hurriedly holding out his jeans as if he were going to step into them.

“No! You have to be naked!”

He looked at her, his eyes wide. “Seriously?’

“I think so. Yes.”

“Me? Why me? You’re the one who looks good without clothes.”

“You have less to show than I do. I have top and bottom parts that don’t see the light of day. You just have the bottom ones. And besides,” she pulled out her ace, “you got us into this. We don’t want to get in trouble.”

He scowled. “With who? The nudity police?
Crap
.” But he got up valiantly and moved to the door.

“Nice ass,” she said. It
was
a nice ass, as firm and muscled as the rest of his body.

“Stop,” he grumbled without looking over his shoulder. The knocking came again, more insistent now. “Hold your damn horses.” He picked his cowboy hat up off the chair where he’d thrown it as they’d entered and stuck it on his head.

The door opened to reveal a man and a woman, holding hands, wreathed in nothing but smiles. They reminded Janet of doorbell evangelists in their enthusiastic grins, although the similarities ended there. The man was probably close to sixty—he was round, his belly ponderous, so large that Janet actually felt grateful for it, since it hid away what she didn’t really want to see. He had a ring of hair around his wide head like a monk. The woman with him had bright red fluffy hair and the air that anywhere else she’d be wearing a muumuu and getting away with it. She was comfortably padded and pink all over.

“Hello, neighbors!” said the man. “I’m Bruce, and this is Wilma. Thought we’d come over and say hello to the new kids on the block.”

Janet was amazed by how cool Tom looked. Not red in the face, not flustered a bit as he put out his hand and shook their hands, one at a time. “Pleasure, Bruce. Howdy, Wilma. I’m Tom, and that little lady in the bed is Janet, my new bride.” Tom’s shoulders were back, and he stood tall as he gestured to her. No slouching, no hiding.

“Oh, newlyweds,” cooed Wilma. “How wonderful. And you’ve come to the right place, that’s for sure. Moonlight Escape is just the most romantic place in the world, isn’t it?” She slid her hand into Bruce’s and looked, well... Janet had to admit she looked adorable. Pink and pleased and very happy.

“Excellent.” Bruce nodded firmly. “Congratulations. Marriage is the best thing that ever happened to me, I can say that for sure. Now, we wanted to make sure you know that the games begin in fifteen minutes, and if you don’t sign up early, then you really miss out on the fun. Gotta form your teams early in the day, you know. Lot of competition around here.”

“Games? Well, how great! What kind of games?” Tom’s voice was hearty. A little
too
hearty, thought Janet. Perhaps there was a chink in his invisible suit of armor, after all.

“Just about everything you could think of wanting to do. Bowling! Lawn darts! There’s horseshoes and volleyball, as well as indoor games like chess and Scrabble matches, but what Wilma and I like the best is the charades. We’re good at it. No one beats us, do they, peanut?”

Nude charades.
Lawn darts.
Janet’s mind boggled.

Wilma flapped her free hand. “Like we said, it starts soon, so we’ll see you there? We can introduce you to everyone, you know. We’ve been coming here for twenty-two happy years. It’s our home away from home.” Wilma looked at Janet expectantly, as if waiting for some kind of confirmation.

Oh, God. She couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. Why had words, usually so easy for Janet, suddenly deserted her? She searched her mind for polite chit-chat and came up with nothing. Then she leaned forward, keeping the sheet tightly wrapped around her. “What about when you’re not here? How do you get on the plane?” Tom gave her a surprised look. But she had to know, even if she was uncharacteristically flustered. Who were nudists when they had to cover up?

Wilma looked shocked. She put her pink hand to her throat. “Goodness! I’m a second-grade teacher! I wear clothes when I’m not here, of course I do.”

Bruce’s bushy eyebrows flapped. “And I’m a wine buyer for the three biggest restaurant chains in Iowa.” The couple frowned at her.

“How nice,” said Tom quickly.

“Oh,” said Janet. “Of course. I’m sorry. Very sorry.” She didn’t know exactly what she was apologizing for, unless it that her question bordered on the rude. Yes, okay, she was apologizing for that.

“So.” Bruce inclined his head gracefully and then grinned again. All was apparently forgiven. “We’ll see you at sign-ups? We’re having a talent night Friday—you should get an act together!”

They waved goodbye, and when the couple turned to go down the two steps holding hands, Janet was surprised to find the sight of their bare bottoms sweet.

Tom shut the door and immediately leaped into the bed next to her. “Gimme some of that sheet. I’m never doing that again.”

“You did
amazingly
well, darling. Now, about that talent show act…”

“Christ on a cracker. There’s only one naked act I know we perform well, and that stays in here. There isn’t enough money in the whole world that would talk me into playing naked volleyball. Not even a
million
dollars. Hey, how much you think a wine buyer makes? That sounds pretty fancy for a job where you just get to drink wine all day. Must be nice to have money like that.”

Janet felt as if her skin didn’t quite fit. She blinked and focused on the door handle. It, too, was a pineapple shape, yellow and orange, with a bright green leafy stem that looked as if it would make the door hard to open.

 
“Remember when we were going to have that talk about our money?”

Tom shook his head and pulled almost imperceptibly away. “Now’s not the time.”

“I know, love. But there never is a good time with you. Now that I have you all to myself, I think I’m going to have my way with you.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words, but Good God, if the man didn’t realize soon that he was rich by marriage, she’d eat
his
hat.

He folded his arms and thinned his lips—his mule look, Janet called it. “There’s nothing to say. You have money. I don’t. I already made my peace with that.” His scowl negated the late sunshine that came in through the cracks in the blinds.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. We have to talk about the fact that I want a joint banking account. With you. With my husband.”

“Oh, good.” He crossed his arms. “You want to give me an allowance. I’m not a child, Janet. I hope that’s not what you were looking for when you married me.”

“Stop it,” Janet said. “Suggesting that is insulting to yourself and demeaning to me. Your oversimplification and deliberate misunderstanding trivializes an important and time-sensitive subject.”

“Now, ma’am, you know I’m just a dumb hick,” Tom drawled. “Don’t have the cash to buy them ten-dollar words.”

Janet ground her teeth in frustration.

“Maybe I need a walk,” he said.

She didn’t say anything.

Tom went on, “Or maybe I’ll take me on out to the porch to set a while. Maybe I’ll whittle something I can sell on the roadside.”

Oh, he was being an
idiot.
Janet’s vision blurred with the kind of tears she hated the most—the kind that came when she was completely, utterly beyond angry. “Go then. It’s your porch, after all. You paid for it,” she said as he stood in the doorway. For a moment he was silhouetted by the light outside. Naked, he stood tall. He reached up to clamp his hat tighter on his head. Then, not embarrassed at all, he strode around the side of the cabin toward the back.

Janet huffed. This was insane. They were on their
honeymoon
for Chrissakes. They were married! And this was something he’d always stubbornly said he wouldn’t discuss until after marriage. But what he’d apparently meant was that he’d never, ever discuss it, and that, to borrow a phrase from Tom, was crap on a cracker indeed.

The plaintive strains of “Clementine” being played on a harmonica filtered in the open window.

His
goddamn
harmonica. Again with that song. She’d heard it one trillion times since he’d bought the instrument—it was the only song he knew, and it made her want to chew light bulbs. He knew it, too. This was her punishment for bringing up the taboo.

Something struck her. Where the
hell
had he been hiding that thing when he went outside? Had it been somehow in his hat?

Well, she didn’t care. Two could play this game. She reached into the front pocket of her suitcase and pulled out the spreadsheet she’d made, the one that itemized her net worth. She
would
go over this with him.

Then Janet got out her knitting and clutched it against herself. She crawled back into bed and pulled the sheet up over her breasts, and started to knit, jerking tight, angry stitches that would show against the work later. She didn’t care.

Biting her lip, Janet looked outside. She could just make him out through the louvered blinds—the stupid harmonica to his lips, the way he leaned forward. Damn, she loved him. But they still had to have a talk. Period.

With clothes on.

 

Janet raised the blinds to let in the sunset. White clouds puffed high into the air, the sky behind them painted bright red, coral pink, and pumpkin orange. To the east, the background turned from light blue to cerulean to a deep azure. As the clouds scudded across the horizon, the shades changed, and Janet was reminded of the one time she’d seen the Northern Lights—the hues here changed almost as quickly, and just as spectacularly.

She’d pulled on her shirt and her pants when she’d gotten up, and when Tom had finally come back in, he’d put on jeans and button-down shirt. He hadn’t said anything as he’d dressed, and neither had she.

He came over and stood next to her, still quiet. “That’s some sunset,” he finally said, and his voice was normal. Janet felt a surge of relief.

She looked down at their bare feet, hers small, his wide and long.
 

“Cute toes,” said Tom.

She accepted his unspoken apology. “Thank you.” She looked down at her toenails, gleaming dark red. “This is as naked as I want to be when we’re not in bed. Okay?” He could go outside naked as much as he wanted. But she would not. She would break the rules if she had to.

“How are we getting the car to go eat?”

Janet gaped. “Oh, they
can’t
expect us to
drive
naked. It’s not even our car!”

“We’ll get dressed and make a run for it. We’ll go into town and have a good dinner, with all our clothes on. Then we’ll hit a store and buy everything we need to hole up here for a few days. And once a day, each of us will take a turn around the cabin.”

“Excuse me?” Janet raised an eyebrow.

“The full monty. Just as a show of good faith, y’know? We’ll moon ‘em. Hey, we’ll honeymoon ‘em! Then maybe they’ll leave us alone.”

BOOK: Honeymooning
5.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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