He bites my earlobe. “You speak Spanish?”
“A little.”
“You need to talk dirty to me in Spanish next time we have sex.”
I laugh. “I’m not sure I know the right vocabulary for that.”
“Look it up. I bet it’s on the Internet.”
“I bet it is.”
I go quiet for a while, and he contents himself with kissing my cheek and leaning back, at the same time looping his arm over my shoulders. I feel… I don’t even know how to describe how I feel. Free? Maybe not. I’m a little buzzed from whatever’s in my umbrella drink—umbrella drinks are the worst, because they throw in everything short of the alcoholic kitchen sink. I’m even more buzzed from Cain’s nearness, though, the heat coming off his body and the smell of him, musky and dark and thoroughly Cain. He never wears cologne, but the soap he uses has its own sort of sandalwood undertones, and his hair always smells like almonds when it’s not sweaty from a fight.
I can’t wait until we get to our hotel room. I’ll sacrifice a day at the beach to have Cain on me, in me, over me, under me—anything and everything we can think of. I just want him. Cancún will always be there. Cain…
Well, he might not, and I shove that thought back just as soon as I have it. Because that’s not where I want my brain to be right now. I just want to be happy. Happily honeymooning.
Happily married.
I lean my head against Cain’s shoulder—my husband’s shoulder—and breathe him in.
#
The next thing I know, I’m waking up to the sound of the captain’s voice telling us we’re descending into the Cancún airport. I get myself together, straightening my hair, and notice that Cain is looking at me with a dumb grin on his face.
“What?” I demand.
“You’re funny. You snored. And I think you drooled on me a little.”
“Ha ha,” I say without humor. It’s a little embarrassing, but he doesn’t seem too put off, so I let it go. If he can put up with being drooled on, then I can put up with him teasing me about it a little.
The hotel is fancier than I expected. I suppose that’s another way he’s trying to make this honeymoon as special as he can. We make our way up to the fourth floor, to a room at the end of the hallway with a spectacular view of the ocean. I step out onto the balcony for a few minutes just to take it in. The breeze is just cool enough, coming off the water, and the sun is heading down, casting orange over the clouds, reflecting off the rippling ocean. It’s so beautiful. So peaceful.
When I turn around and head back into the room, Cain’s frowning at his phone. I wonder what the problem is, but then I remember I turned mine off before the plane took off and I never turned it back on. I fish it out of my purse and hit the power button.
“This room is fantastic, Cain. I don’t know how you managed—”
And then I stop. Because my phone is going insane. Buzzing, ring-toning, text after text after text after call notification after voice mail notification scrolling up from where they’d been sent during the plane trip.
Oh my God. I sit down on the bed with a thump, my eyes going hot. It’s Pop. Every one of them. And when I start to scroll through the text messages, my hands start to shake.
Where are you, Jessica? You need to be home. Now.
What am I hearing about Cain? Goddammit, Jess, if this is true I swear I kill him.
Who am I kidding. I’ll kill both of you. HOW DARE YOU?!!
I put the phone down for a second, trying to catch my breath. I can feel hot tears on my face, but I don’t remember actually shedding them.
“Jess?” Cain’s voice, as gentle as I’ve ever heard it.
I turn my attention back to the phone. I don’t even want to hear the voice mail messages if the texts are this vitriolic.
He’s a dead man, so enjoy him while you have him.
How can you defy me like this? I’m your GODDAMN FATHER!!
Your mother would roll over—
I don’t get to read the end of that one, because Cain abruptly snatches the phone from my hand. He looks through the texts himself, his face going red. I start to sob.
“No, give it back. Y-you don’t need to read that.”
He doesn’t give it back. He keeps scrolling. “That fucking son of a bitch. What right does he have to talk to you like that?”
He’s my father, I think, but I don’t say it out loud. Suddenly he tosses the phone away. I see it skitter under the desk and hit the wall. It’s still buzzing.
Cain sits next to me on the bed and puts his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. “Shhh. Jess, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”