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Chapter 7
“Australia?” The word was hissed with no small amount of horror and trepidation. “When I said I wish you’d go on a more exotic location, I didn’t mean going to a place where the sidewalk melts the soles of your shoes.”
“It’s not that bad,” I insisted without much conviction. The heat had been pretty awful when I first landed. I paced between the sliding glass windows leading out onto our seventh floor balcony and one of the queen sized beds that divided the space between where I was wearing a hole in the hotel carpet and the rest of the space.
“Not that bad,” Lizzie parroted.
I turned again and switched the phone to my other ear as I paused and looked across the room. Two queen sized beds, a pull-out couch and a large bathroom made up the majority of the room. The desk built into the wall across from the beds was overflowing with computer equipment. I didn’t know how Texas had managed to get that much technology through customs, but no one had even bothered to check his bags. He had two laptops set up, their screens illuminated and flashing through a series of documents as he rapid-fire clicked across both of them.
I sighed when I realized Lizzie had yet to say anything more. “Lizzie?”
“I’m still here,” she replied immediately sounding a bit winded.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “What—”
“No!” she snapped, interrupting my next question. “I am not okay. I’m still stuck on the fact that you’re in Australia.”
“What’s wrong with Australia?” I asked a bit defensively. “It’s perfectly nice.”
“Perfectly nice?” she repeated.
“Are you going to copy everything I say for the entire duration of this conversation?” I inquired.
“No, of course not,” she answered, “but you have to admit, I have a right to be shocked. The last time I talked to you, you were supposed to be heading to Key West. I don’t know how bad you are at geography but Key West is most certainly not in Australia.”
I winced before I even spoke—I knew what her reaction would be. “We decided to put off the honeymoon for another week or so,” I said. “We have—”
“Youput offyour honeymoon?” she snapped. “Someone better be either dead or dying.”
“They very well might be, you don’t know that.”
“Harlow,” she sounded as though she were trying to hold in a mountain of emotions, “just tell me one thing.”
Had she been in front of me, I would have squinted at her in suspicion. “What?” I asked hesitantly.
“Are you getting the dick?”
“Oh my God.” I rolled my eyes heavenward.
“Please, please tell me you’re at least having honeymoon sex even if you’re not having a honeymoon,” she persisted.
I shot a glance over my shoulder at where Bellamy exited the bathroom and then sprawled out on one of the mattresses. I bent my head and whirled to face the sliding glass doors before I hissed a response. “I swear to God,” I started, “you are more obsessed with my sex life than—”
“I’m just trying to make sure you’re taken care of,” she defended, “You’ve got how many husbands? You better be getting some at least five times a week,” she continued. “That’s one man per day. I mean, I’d prefer for—”
“I’m hanging up,” I cut her off. “I just wanted you to know where we were because I know you’ll get pissed if you find out later and I didn’t tell you.”
“You’re damned right I’d be pissed,” she replied without shame. “I’m your best friend.”
“Yes, you are. Now I gotta go.”
“I hope it’s so you can take a trip tobone town!”
I squeaked and jammed my finger against the end call, but it was too late, her last two words had been shrieked into the receiver and had definitely been more than audible. I turned, chancing a glance over my shoulder.
Both Texas and Bellamy had stopped and lifted their heads, turning in my direction. A flush stole over my cheeks, but I shoved down my irrational need to flee somewhere to live out the rest of my life as an embarrassed nun. Damn Lizzie.
Finally, the silence was broken by Bellamy’s deep chuckle. “Come on, Sweetheart,” he said, rolling to his side and straight off the bed, bounding to his feet in one long elegant movement—like a cat falling from a great height, always landing on his feet. “Why don’t we go down to the hotel pool.”
