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* * *
“No.” I shove a dumpling into my mouth.
“But it’s Bora Bora,” Cal replies with an exasperated look.
I shake my head. “Sounds boring.” Good thing Cal can’t see the way my cheeks burn from the lie.
“What is wrong with you?”
More like whatcouldbe wrong with me if I were to choose a honeymoon location that would require Declan to walk around shirtless and wet all day long. Even I know my limits, and that is one of them. After the little show I got last time Declan was shirtless, it’s best we don’t test the waters.
Cal uses the computer mouse to scroll through the newspaper article recommending theTop Ten Honeymoon Spots in the World. “How about Maui?”
I scrunch my nose. “No.”
“Fiji?”
“Pass.”
“I swear, with the way you’re acting, it’s as if you don’t want to go on a honeymoon at all.”
“I do!” Just not anywhere that might require us to take our clothes off.
He stares me down. “What about South Africa?”
Huh. Now that is an idea…
“Tell me more.”
He looks absolutely horrified by my interest. “You can’t be serious. You would choose a safari over Bora Bora?”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not romantic.”
I frown. “This might be a honeymoon, but it isn’t meant to be romantic.”
“Clearly or else you would have chosen something else.”
The more Cal pushes me on it, the more I find the idea of going on a safari appealing. Nothing sayshands offquite like bug spray, motion sickness, and watching animals devour each other. With a busy trip like that, the risk of Declan and I doing something stupid is slim to none.
I throw my napkin on the table and pat my distended belly. “That’s it. We’re going to South Africa.”
Cal groans, and I smile.
Case solved.
* * *
Planning a trip to Africa at the last minute is stressful. I need to juggle Declan’s busy schedule, doctors’ appointments so we can get our shots, and calling safari lodges to see who has availability at the last minute. I do all this while working from nine to nine every single day.
Declan is absolutely useless when it comes to planning anything, so I’m stuck doing everything on my own. Flights. Travel itineraries. Sleeping arrangements. Everything falls on my shoulders since Declan doesn’t care where we go, so long as I post a few photos and make it seem like we are having a good time. His words. Not mine.
Because of his attitude, I don’t feel bad booking the most expensive safari lodge on our list. I even book a trip to the salon to get my hair braided—all on his personal card. That’s what he gets for being so cold and unfeeling about the whole process. The least he could have done was ask me if I needed any help. Or even thanked me for putting all this together at the last minute, all so he could prove to everyone how we are some happy couple.
It’s the smallest things that make people feel appreciated. Not that Declan cares.
I sigh as I stare out the car window.
