Chapter Fourteen

Genevieve

“Wake up, gorgeous.”

Adam’s voice is so close that it ruffles the hair around my ear and tickles my neck.

“Too early,” I groan. I pull the pillow out from under my head and press it over my face, blocking the sunlight that streams in. “If we’re going to make this marriage thing work, you’re going to have to understand that I don’t do mornings. At least, not by choice.”

His hands run up and down my body, and I arch against them. “Oh really? I remember how well you did this morning just a few hours ago.”

Memories of our pre-dawn extracurricular activity flood my mind, making my toes curl and my breath quicken.

“Exactly,” I mumble. “Can’t we just savor the memory and go back to sleep? I promise I’ll be good to go for round two—or three? Four? I lost count—in a couple of hours.”

“No,” he says, as he kisses my throat, then along my collarbone. “Wake up now.”

“Fine!” I say with a laugh. His lips are hot on my skin, and I don’t even want to try to resist him anymore. “What is it that I need to get up for? God, do we have a mandatory tutoring session?”

I fling the pillow from my eyes, and Adam grins.

“No, but I could probably come up with something to teach you if you’d like,” he starts tugging the sheet out of my fingers. “Or, you could get your toothbrush and throw on a swimsuit—preferably a tiny one; I’m fairly certain you have a couple of those—and let me take you on a honeymoon.”

“A honeymoon?” I choke the words out like I’m gargling wet sand.

His grin is pure pleased mischief. “It’s about time, don’t you think? We had a legitimate proposal even though we got bonded instead of engaged. We had a real wedding for our marriage of convenience. I think we deserve a honeymoon even though we’re technically friends with benefits—very hot benefits— instead of newlyweds.”

My heart sinks a little. He isn’t saying a single thing that isn’t true. That doesn’t make facing it hurt any less.

“Oh. Of course. But, what about school?”

Adam is constantly worried about school. I can’t believe he would have forgotten about it. Maybe he’s planning on packing our laptops and binders…?

“Let’s forget about school. Just this one time. It’s only for a weekend. But it’s better than nothing, right?”

He pulls away from me, waiting for confirmation with hopeful eyes. Love surges through me, strong and powerful. And something else…is it hope?

“Absolutely.”

I nod, flinging my arms around his neck and kissing all over his face. He slips an arm under me and pulls me on top of him.

“Where are we going?” I ask between kisses.

“You’ll see when we get there,” Adam says. He pulls my hair away from my face and leans in to kiss the tip of my nose.

“I hate surprises,” I pout.

“I didn’t know that. But, that’s what this weekend is all about. We’re going to wind up spending so much time, just you and me, you’ll be sick of my face by the time Monday rolls around.”

“I doubt it,” I joke, drawing the back of my fingers down his face. “Seriously, where are we going?”

“Get dressed,” he says, popping a kiss on my lips.

He rolls out from under me and smacks my butt as he hurls himself off of the bed. I half seethe with anger over his refusal to tell me where we’re going, half smirk to myself as I watch my husband strut nude across the room in search of the boxers I stripped off of him hours earlier.

…

“I hate heights,” I say as Adam negotiates the curvy road a little too fast for my liking.

“Good to know…for next time,” he says, his mouth pulled into a frown.

We’re cruising up the winding mountain on what I’m sure he assumed would be a scenic and romantic drive, but all I can do is clutch the door handle, white knuckled, and cringe with each twist of the road. Adam seems mostly at ease, but that doesn’t make me want to cry any less.

“So,” I say, swallowing hard and trying to steady my voice, “what made you choose Big Bear?” Adam takes his eyes off the road to look at me, and I shake my head frantically, pointing out the windshield. “Watch the road!”

“Wow, so this is Genevieve terrified. The way you popped the question to me without even hesitating…” He gives a low, infuriating whistle. “I was beginning to think your nerves were made of steel.”

I glance over, and he’s got a shit-eating grin plastered across his face that—if I could let go of this stupid door handle—I would smack right off. “I hate you,” I mutter.

I hate this drive. I hate the sight of car paint scrapes on the rocks that line the side of the road. I hate this drop to nothingness out my side of the car. “And stay in your own lane.”

“Gen, I am in my lane. We’re almost there, baby. Just close your eyes. I promise, for our anniversary, I’ll pick somewhere made for flatlanders.”

Says the man who was raised in a desert. His voice is warm and comforting, his hand on my leg is lidocaine for my nerves. I release the door handle, lean back in my seat, and close my eyes, thinking of one thing only: what it will feel like to celebrate this marriage with Adam.

…

“It’s not exactly the penthouse, but it’s nice, right?” Adam asks, swinging open the door of the tiny cabin.

The floors are dusty, the kitchen cabinets are all open and completely bare, and the light that Adam just flipped on is buzzing so loud, I think I’d prefer a weekend in constant darkness.

“It’s fantastic!” I say, forcing enthusiasm into each syllable for his sake.

Adam worked really hard to put all of this together, and it’s better than sitting in our same stuffy apartment for the weekend. I feel like I’m suffocating in the tiny red rooms most days. Not that I’d ever tell him that he was right about the paint making the room feel like the walls were closing in on us.

No, the weather is gorgeous here, and we’re going to enjoy the hell out of this weekend. I plan to make sure of it. Operation Perfect Wife didn’t go off quite like I planned the first time around, but I’m gung-ho to try again.

“It’s so pretty out, let me just put my stuff away, and then let’s go find something to do. Unless you made plans?”

“We can do whatever you want, Gen.” Adam walks to the kitchen and picks up a stack of brochures off of the small table. “Looks like they left these for us. There’s hiking, zip-lining… Oh! There’s an alpine slide down the side of the mou—”

“Adam!”

Adam glances up and sees me frantically rubbing my palms on my dress, wiping the sweat away as he rattles off a list of attractions that sound more like death threats than fun-filled pastimes.

“File all of those under ‘things I’d rather gouge my eye out with a spork than participate in,’” I say with a shaky laugh.

He tosses the pamphlets back onto the table.

“Is there something you’d like to do?”

“Why don’t we go check out the bedroom?” I ask in my sexiest come-hither voice, but Adam doesn’t perk up the way I expect.

“Everything okay?” I check.

“Yep.”

Adam follows me down the narrow hall and into the small, dark bedroom. It’s sparse, like the rest of the cabin, but the owners were smart enough to put the most time and effort into this room. Which is excellent, since I have a feeling it’s the one Adam and I will be spending the most time in.

The details in the woodworking on the bed and matching dresser are stunning. The linens are fresh and fluffy and make me want to slip under them bare with my gorgeous husband and never leave. The circular rug matches the pattern on the throw pillows.

It feels like a Pottery Barn ad—well, it would if I could ignore the creepy-ass stuffed bear on the dresser.

Staring at me.

I’m about to comment that we need to shove that thing down the mountain when Adam lifts the hair off the back of my neck and presses his warm mouth to my skin.

“I have something for you.” I spin toward him and he’s holding a small, flat box about the size of a notebook. His eyes look more gold than green when he’s excited about something, and right now they’re almost completely gold.

“What’s this?” I ask, running my fingers over the edges of the box.

“Call it a late wedding gift,” he says with a shrug.

Once again, I’m left standing without anything for him when he’s gotten something thoughtful for me.

I manage a wavery smile, my throat tied in a stiff knot. “That wasn’t necessary, but…thank you. So much.”

“Open it.” He nudges my hands, and I shake the box until the lid releases.

Inside, under a sheet of rustling silver tissue paper, I catch sight of a pale pink, thin strap. I loop my finger through it and give it a tug. I pull out a simple lace slip, something I never would have picked out, but something that Adam would definitely be drawn to when choosing lingerie. Though I’m getting more comfortable in the simple things. Clothes without rhinestones. Shoes that aren’t skyscrapers.

“Wow. Is this a present for me, or a present for you?” I ask, flashing a flirty grin that I know will drive him crazy.

He steps in, clutching my hip with his hand. “Depends. Do you want me to help you put it on?”

I shake my head. “No, I want you to take it off.”

…

“That thing creeps me out.” I look at the teddy bear’s dull smile, its glazed eyes, and its zombie-like outstretched arms.

“What?” Adam hovers close, his chest to my back, and looks over my shoulder. “The teddy bear?” The bear, which is the size of our TV at home, is still looking at me, unblinking. “Are you being serious?”

“Of course I am. Look at it.”

I do. And shudder.

Adam kisses my shoulders and nudges my ear with his nose, whispering, “Gen, I think we may need to talk about your sanity. It’s a stuffed animal.”

“It’s probably a nanny-cam,” I say, only half-joking.

“I had no idea you were so paranoid. I sort of love it.” He wraps his arms around me and buries his face in my hair.

I press my hands over his and rub up and down the strong length of his arms, loving the coarse hair and corded muscles, the tiny chemical burns that fleck his hands from his years of experiments, and the way his wedding band glints on his ring finger. “I guess we really don’t know a whole lot about each other, huh? I mean, you’ve gathered that I’m a paranoid freak—”

His arms pull me closer, cradling me like I’m something undeniably precious. “You’re not a freak, Genevieve. You’re unsure of yourself, that’s all. And I take it as my personal responsibility to help with that. You just need to break out of your comfort zone.” He kisses my temple, and it’s like he seals his promise with that gesture. “Tomorrow.”