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Chapter Three
Josephine
Aparched mouth has me waking up a couple of hours later. Crying always makes me dehydrated. Throwing back the covers, I make my way to the bathroom to fill a glass under the tap. I chug the water and head back to bed. The sun hasn’t come up yet, so more rest seems like a good idea.
As I walk past the patio doors leading out to the outdoor living space, something stops me. Maceo sits in a lounger facing the sea. He’s been less than ten feet from me with the doors wide open to outside for who knows how long.
“Buenos días, mi amor,”he says, not turning away from the beach view.
“How long have you been out here?”
He peeks over his shoulder at me with a sheepish smile. “Since you locked me out. I wanted to be close to you without being in your space. I wasn’t creeping, I swear. I gazed at you maybe a handful of times, but right from here. The stupid indoor/outdoor living concept was torturing me. You were close, yet so far.”
Oh, my heart.“Did you sleep at all?”
He smiles. “No rest for the wicked.”
“You’re not wicked,” I disagree, shaking my head.
“Just an asshole.”
I shrug, unabashed. I call it as I see it—last night, he was one.
He laughs softly, then sighs. “I’m sorry I made you worry. Do you want to talk?”
“Yes, but I want to sleep with my husband first. You look beat. When we wake up, we can talk.” With his hand in mine, I pull him inside.
In bed, he curls around my back, holding me close to his chest. Maceo sighs and lays his heavy hand on my hip. “You’re right. I’ve been neglecting you and not giving you all of me. This is our honeymoon. My focus should be solely on you. We have three days left, and I promise no more calls.”
Doubtful, I peek over my shoulder to read his face. I can tell he’s sincere in wanting to keep his promise, but whatever is happening back home is too big to believe he won’t slip again. Perhaps there needs to be a consequence for breaking the rule.
“Do it again and I’ll toss your cell into the sea. But I want answers. I deserve to know what’s going on.”
Maceo chuckles, spooning his bulky body behind mine, wrapping me up in his thick arms. “Go to sleep. I promise I’ll be here when you wake to tell you everything.”
* * *
The soft rays of early dawn are harsh against my puffy eyelids. Maceo’s softly snores next to me, our arms and legs twisted around each other. Uncomfortable, I roll and Maceo’s hand slips to my lower stomach. It’s like a damn bowling ball weighing on my bladder.
Shit! I need to pee.Not wanting to wake my sleeping giant, I carefully extract myself from around him and race to the bathroom. I realize I might be five weeks pregnant—early stages, but far enough along hCG levels may register on a pregnancy test.
Quickly, I dig through my toiletry bag, retrieving a pregnancy test, and ripping open the box.
After following the instructions and setting it on the counter, I wash my hands and wait—impatiently. I bend over to peek at the digital window every two seconds, biting my thumbnail.
It’s getting close to the two-minute mark when I hear Maceo’s phone buzzing in the other room.
Awww, hell nawww!
Pregnancy test forgotten, I stomp out of the bathroom half expecting to find Maceo gone, but he’s not. He sits on the edge of the bed staring at his cell on the nightstand. His knee bounces as he runs his hands over his neck in a nervous tick.
It feels like cold fingers grip my heart. He’s trying hard to stay true to his promise to me, but it’s torturing him not knowing what the call is about. There is only one thing I can think that would cause this much stress, this much turmoil for my husband.
The phone stops and starts again. Maceo rocks back and forth.
This is too much. I walk to the nightstand, pick up the cell, and answer. “Yes?”
There’s a long silence before a throat clears. “Hey, Jo,” Chase says timidly. “Um, is Atlas available?”
