Strange that he hadn't answered my question...but that was my last thought on the subject as he slowly turned me into goo with his hot mouth.
"We can't. Not until you see the doctor on Monday and she says it's okay."
"Goddamn it." He rolled off me. "I can't even cheat on you with my hand."
I busted up, laughing.
"It's not funny," he whined.
"It's effing hilarious. You're not the only one feeling horny."
"I'd offer to alleviate your suffering for you, but you're a cruel woman who has mocked my misfortunes. If I suffer, then you've got to suffer along with me."
I snickered and rolled on my side to face him, holding up my palm. "I have a hand, too. And I can cheat on you with it."
"Yeah. Between that and my dirty underwear--"
"T-shirt! It was your t-shirt. Jesus."
We went back and forth like that for a few more minutes before he sobered and looked at me for a long moment. "You feeling better?"
"Yeah. I am." I sighed. "I'm glad we had this talk despite how distraught I was when we started."
"And here I was feeling sentimental about us when you got home. It all went out the window when I you started crying."
I kissed his cheek. "What got you sentimental?"
He pointed to his laptop, sitting at an awkward angle on his nightstand. "The quest. It's all about us. Are you sure no one questioned you to get the details about our relationship?"
I blinked, stunned. "No. Like...how is it about us? Show me."
He opened up the laptop and logged into the game, explaining where he'd gone so far, running errands to help Lord Sisyphus find and propose to his bride.
"First, it said go to where he first met her, and I was stumped for a while. Then I thought about us and how we first met at that hotel conference room. And I took a chance and went to the best inn in town. Upstairs on a long table, there was a glowing vase. I clicked on it to put the flowers in the vase."
I smiled, hearing him talk in such animated tones. It had been a long time since he'd had this much fun playing a video game. I suspected that, for far too long, the game had been work for him.
"Awesome. Then what?"
"I had to find a map to a faraway kingdom called Amah Dastam and help get the princess there to meet Sisyphus."
"Amah Dastam? Amah Dastam."
He watched me carefully. "Say it fast."
"Amah Dastam." I nodded, the light bulb suddenly going off. "Amsterdam. Holy crap. That's, um, kinda creepy. What's next? Will Princess Emma start a virginity auction after penning a controversial virginity manifesto?"
He faux-scowled at me. "She'd better not." He slammed closed the laptop with a yawn.
"You could use a nap," I said, fully aware that it was bedtime anyway.
He grinned at me crookedly--sporting that scruffy look, he was devilishly handsome, and I silently cursed the fact that I couldn't attack him. This would have been the perfect moment. Damn sex ban.
"I think I do, too." Exhaustion, as palpable as his, gnawed at me.
Minutes later, we were in bed, but by the time I moved over to his side to cuddle, he was already fast asleep.
***
The next morning, he was already awake beside me, lying in bed and tapping away on his laptop when I rolled over and cracked my eyelids open.
Through my blurry morning vision, I caught a glimpse of the weirdest thing ever on his laptop screen. An animation displayed what appeared to be the trajectory of a rocket that launched from somewhere off a map of Florida (complete with estimated time stamps, launch angle, altitude estimations, and other numbers scrolling across the screen).
Clearing my throat, I frowned. "What's that?" I asked.
Shockingly, he jumped and slapped his laptop closed, a guilty expression on his face, as if I'd caught him watching hardcore granny porn. After taking a moment to collect himself, he grimaced, seeming upset that I'd seen it--whatever it was.
I sat up and stared at him. "What was that?" I repeated.
He jerked his shoulder in a sharp shrug. "Nothing. That wasn't for your eyes."
"Was it aerospace fetish porn or something? It looked like a rocket launching from Florida." I smoothed a hand through my bed hair. "The trajectories? The explosions over the Caribbean. That seemed ...elaborate." Then I smirked. "And orgasmic."
His lips thinned as he reopened the device, the screen pointed away from me this time. "It's nothing." Clicking a few buttons on his keyboard, he adjusted the angle. All I could see was his blank desktop.
My eyes narrowed. "It seemed like something to me."
Scowling, he didn't say anything.
I turned toward him, a new--and worrisome--suspicion arising. "It has something to do with the wedding, doesn't it?"
He folded his arms across his chest. "Don't ruin a surprise."
My jaw dropped. "That didn't appear to be a mere surprise to me. That looked like full-blown simulated nuclear war."
His gaze went up to the ceiling. "It's not a missile."
"Then what the hell is it?"
He shifted on the bed. "It's a rocket."
"Like...fireworks? Because even I know that launching fireworks from Florida is not going to do us any good in St. Lucia."
His mouth quirked. "It's not exactly fireworks."
"It's actually a rocket?"
"It's a surprise."
I leaned toward him. "Adam Drake, if you don't tell me what that was, I will pitch a fit. I promise you I will go Bridezilla on your ass. Are you launching a rocket?"
He shot me a dark look. "Yes."
"For what purpose?" Oh, God...Overblown wasn't even beginning to describe this shit now. "Is it launching us to the moon? Are we going to have a literal honeymoon? Should I pack my spacesuit?"
He rolled his eyes. "It's a...special project I've been working on."
"This entire wedding has been a special project--a special over-the-top project. Please tell me what the rocket is really about."
His handsome features revealed nothing. "It's...supposed to launch a payload into the upper atmosphere. Some harmless, inert debris that will burn up upon reentry while producing the effect of shooting stars. Our vows will be said at sunset, and the payload discharges in conjunction with that."
Silence. I blinked at him, trying to absorb it.
He threw me a glance. "Are you okay?"
I squinted at him. "I don't know. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to react upon discovering that my fiance has lost his ever-loving mind."
His jaw worked. "What? You don't think it's cool?"
"Adam, major nations don't pull stunts like that for the opening of the Olympics. It's out of control--" Cutting myself off at the hurt look on his face, I sighed and began more quietly. "I'm sorry, but--"
He gave me a stiff shrug. "You aren't that into it. I'm getting that message loud and clear. It's tiring to be the only one excited about this wedding." He slapped the laptop shut again, jaw tensing. "Hopefully, you're more excited about the marriage than you are about the wedding."
Now it was my turn to get defensive. I could feel my blood pressure increasing, my fists tightening. "That's ridiculous. Just because I don't care about an excessive party does not mean in any way that I don't want to marry you or that I'm not thrilled about the fact that we are going to spend the rest of our lives together."
His cheeks flushing with anger and his glare darted out the window. So odd, this behavior.
Now he was up and pacing. My eyes caught on how his pajama pants and t-shirt were slightly loose on his body, which was thinner than before his illness. I made a mental note to say something to Chef about it. Now that he was eating again, he'd need to up his caloric intake.
"What's this all about? What's going on? Come on. If you can't talk to me about it, who the hell else are you going to talk about it with?"
"I haven't lost my mind." He raked a hand through his hair. "I wanted you to have a day that's all your own, where your ever
y wish is granted and you feel special--like a princess."
I bit my lip. Having never entertained a girly princess fetish, nor worshipped the Disney princesses, I'd been a different type of girl. My aspirations had tended toward Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman instead or, if a princess at all, Princess Leia, rebel leader. Maybe Xena, Warrior Princess. But his words were so damn sweet that I caught my breath.
I swallowed the big lump in my throat. Getting up, I came around the bed and held my hands up to cradle his face. "That's so sweet--" He jerked his head up and away, turning his back on me. I studied his hunched shoulders, his stiff posture.
"Adam, you're going Napster on this wedding." I referred to the infamous Silicon Valley billionaire who had been publically ridiculed for spending approximately twenty million dollars on his over-the-top "old forest" Tolkien-esque wedding among the redwoods in Northern California.
Adam scowled. "Give me a break."
"You're launching particles into the atmosphere, you're...having God knows what else done. I have been reading the emails, despite what you think. Chefs and bakers flown in on private planes. You don't even fly on a private plane when you can avoid it. Have you calculated the carbon footprint alone from all this?" I threw my hands open wide, a pleading gesture, shaking my head. "This isn't you. This isn't us. Shouldn't the wedding be about who we are as people? As a couple? As the new family we are about to form?"
He continued to stare out the window, hands on his hips. At times like these, I knew that provoking him was akin to poking as sharp stick at a grouchy bear. It was usually best to leave him alone and let him contemplate. Adam was, after all, a ruminator. And he was getting pissed off about my constructive criticism. Okay, maybe it wasn't as constructive as it could have been.
But damn it, I couldn't let this stand. It was my wedding, too.
"You and I and this new entity of us is more important than a party. And I get that you are bored out of your skull right now without work--"
"Bored?" he snapped, jerking his head around toward me. "You think I'm doing this because I'm bored?"
I bit my lip. Yeah, the bear wasn't liking that sharp stick much. "Well, you work so damn much all the time, I'd guess you have no idea what to do with your time now that you can't. So you're channeling all your energy into this."
He turned to me, shoulders tightening. Now he looked downright pissed. "Don't do that."
"What? Blame your compulsive work habit? Why not? I've only been refraining from saying anything because I figured your body did it for me this time." I gestured to him in his pajamas, as if to signal his illness, the onset of his mono and the part his tendency to overwork and undersleep played in that.
"Okay, now you're pissing me off."
"If the truth pisses you off, then so be it. I'm not going to skirt around the issue. This time, your body shut it down. But what happens when you start feeling better? You're going to return to your frenetic pace again. We both work hard, and up until recently, we were able to make it work. But it was getting fucking ridiculous toward the end." I paused only to suck in enough air to continue the tirade. "You weren't even sleeping in bed with me. I mean, I'm willing to take second fiddle to work sometimes, but--"
Before I could finish, he turned away from me and stalked out of the room, fists closed at his sides.
I trotted after him. "Adam, where are you going? I was talking--"
"Leaving before I say something I'm going to regret."
"Like what?"
He ground between clenched teeth, "If I say it, then I'll regret it, which was why I was leaving the room."
"Stop right there." And he did--so abruptly that I almost collided into his solid back. He stood still as a statue without turning to face me.
I talked to his wide shoulder blades, his stiff spine. "I'm trying really hard not to be a nag but...damn. Shit gets old when my soon-to-be husband is consistently choosing work over me. I'd like to come first--even if only sometimes."
His head dropped forward, and he palmed his forehead. "You have no fucking idea how I've chosen. What I've had to fend off for us. If you did, you wouldn't say that."
I drew away. "Sorry, but I'm gonna have to call bullshit on that."
His open hand darted out and smacked the wall. It wasn't a violent outburst, but it was loud, and I jumped. He turned to me, and that vein in his forehead was protruding in such a way as to create a whole new mountain range across his features. Yeah, he was pissed. I'd poked too hard.
I blinked, and he froze when he noted my startled reaction. We stood like that for one minute, two, staring at each other in wonderment and shock at what had just happened. We hadn't argued like this in a long, long time.
Suddenly, I shook my head, as if waking myself up from a bad dream. "What is this? Why are we fighting like this? What is this really about?"
Seemingly exhausted, he hung his head, shoulders slumped. That same hand with which he'd hit the wall now braced him against it.
Taking a deep breath and releasing it, he looked up with guarded eyes. Like he had shields up, phasers set to kill.
I swallowed hard and steeled myself for his answer.
Chapter 13
Adam
I had no idea how to answer her. Not in any way that wasn't going to dig me in deeper than I already was.
"This conversation is over," I muttered, turning on my heel into my office and hoping she wouldn't follow. Of course, I knew better, but I'd expended every ounce of energy I had for the day--and it wasn't even nine a.m. yet. Sinking into my chair with a long sigh, I glanced at her through the doorway.
I'd left a stunned fiancee standing out in the hall, staring at me in wonder. After a long moment, I finally spoke, "You can leave and we can cool this down and talk later. Or we can talk now, but I'm warning you that I'm still pretty pissed off." I wasn't about to admit that I had to sit down or I would have fallen over, but likely, my exhaustion showed anyway.
She slowly entered, giving me a once-over with an aspiring doctor's eye.
"I agree that we probably shouldn't continue that argument. But I have to know, and it really can't wait. What did you mean by that?"
My eyes avoided hers, and I rubbed my forehead, trying to think my way around the subject. This was the last thing I wanted to discuss with her--especially now. Especially after all the vulnerability and insecurity she'd revealed to me last night.
And her words. I'm not ready for your world.
She had no idea what "my world" was demanding of me--and of her. What I'd been trying to protect her from. And the mere thought of holding that back any longer was making me want to fold up in my chair.
"What did I mean by what?" I asked stalling.
She sank into the seat on the other side of the desk, opposite me, a frown creasing her forehead. Even when I was irritated with her and she was obviously annoyed with me, she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on.
My throat tightened so that I could barely swallow the emotion that rose up. And suddenly, a flash of memory--that moment last night when she'd told me she couldn't do this. That cold fear chilled my veins. I dreaded that she'd say it again, or worse--act on it. My chest tightened as I remembered those warm tears I'd wiped from her big brown eyes when she'd cried into my t-shirt.
Her voice was quiet when she spoke. "You said that I had no idea about your choices and something about having to fend things off for us. What does that mean? There's obviously something going on that you aren't telling me."
I rubbed my forehead, staring out the window. The bright sunshine glinted off the water of the back bay, and even in the chilly late fall weather, boats bustled toward the harbor and the ocean.
"Adam...please tell me."
Unsure how long I'd sat staring out that window while she waited for my answer, I was yanked back into the present by her plea. She was leaning forward, both palms pressed flat to the desk, eyes wide with concern.
I took in a deep breath and then let it go. Tell h
er? Or blow it off and risk another confrontation? Let her have her way with the wedding and keep the prenup issue hush-hush?
A new headache threatened, blossoming behind my eyes, my temples. I didn't want to think about it. With my eyes closed, I muttered, "It's not a big deal. A small conflict I ran into with the board of directors. It will resolve itself."
Her brows came down in a frown, her eyes still glued to me and a very plain I smell bullshit expression all over her face. "A...conflict? With the whole board or only with Jordan?"
I stiffened at the mention of the name, and her eyes flashed as if she'd hit on something she'd been searching for. "It is something to do with Jordan, isn't it? I've been trying to find out what. I should have asked you weeks ago."
I blinked.
"Or maybe I should ask him?"
My jaw clenched so tight that it ached. I spoke to her through clenched teeth. "Don't you dare talk to that bastard."
Her jaw dropped. "Uh. What?" Was she shocked that I'd forbidden her from speaking to my former best friend? Or was she shocked at the general animosity in my voice? My fist clenched at my side as I realized that in my weakness I'd let loose more than I'd planned.
"What the hell is going on? He's your best friend."
"Nope. Best friends are supposed to have your back."
"And he doesn't?" She let out a breath and slumped in her chair, staring at me like I was an alien species brought to Area 51 for examination. "Enough of this. Tell me what the hell is going on, or I'll pick up the phone and call him and air our dirty laundry. You should know better than to keep important secrets from me."
I laid my head against my chair, eyes darting up at the ceiling. She was right. It was way past the time for keeping any more secrets.
"Jordan wouldn't stand behind me versus the BOD when they were pressuring me to do something I didn't want to do. So yeah, I'm pissed at him."
Silence from her end then the drumming of fingernails against the desktop. I tilted my head at an angle to get a glimpse of her, hoping the answer would satisfy her, while knowing it probably wouldn't. She was watching me like a hawk.
"And what was the issue? Does the board want you to sell more shares in the company or something?"
"No."
She hesitated longer. More drumming. I knew the determined expression on her face. She was on the scent of something and wasn't about to give up. Exhaustion gripped me, and all I could think of was how much I wanted to go to bed and lie down and sleep for a week rather than discuss all this with her. My body might force me to give in before I could think about any other options. Shit.