They’d do the right thing, he reassured himself as he rolled over onto his other side with a pained groan, wondering when his stomach would stop twisting and turning and finally put him out of his fucking misery.

“I think we should give this another chance,” the doctor said calmly as he held up a bottle of pills, making Trevor’s stomach twist in agony at the memory of what the last pills that the doctor forced down his throat had done.

“No,” he managed to croak out as he buried his face in his pillow, willing for the ship to stop shaking, moving, rocking, whatever the hell they wanted to call it, but it needed to stop immediately.

“I’m sorry about the last pills, but these should help you,” the lying son of a bitch promised.

Clenching his jaw shut tightly so that the sneaky bastard couldn’t shove any more poison in his mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head as much as he dared, which wasn’t a hell of a lot. God, he wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that every single movement and breath that he took made him wish for death or the fact that he’d just spent the last five hours sitting in a buffet unable able to eat a single bite of food, because just the thought of eating any of that food had made him queasy.

“I need you to try these pills,” the sick bastard that had somehow managed to get a medical license said more firmly while he laid there, waiting for his loving wife to return so that he could say goodbye to her.

Grimacing, he shook his head, slightly.

“Mr. Bradford, I promise you that these will help,” the doctor said with a sigh of exasperation that was going to get his ass kicked.

“That’s what you said the last time,” Trevor managed to bite out, struggling not to lose what was left of his breakfast at the reminder of what happened as soon as the last pills had hit his system.

“Some people react badly to those pills once sea sickness kicks in, but these pills should do the-”

“What’s going on?” his loving wife asked, interrupting the bastard trying to kill him and making him sag with relief because he knew that everything would be okay now.

“Are you his wife?” the doctor asked with a slight hesitation that Trevor found insulting, but since he could barely move without praying for death, he decided to add it to the growing list of offenses that was going to get the smug bastard thrown overboard just as soon as the world stopped spinning.

“Yes, what’s going on?” Zoe asked, for some reason sounding a bit impatient and not at all like a loving, devoted wife should sound like when she found her husband, the man she loved and adored, on the verge of death.

At least, in his opinion she didn’t…

“He has a touch of sea sickness and won’t take these pills that will-”

Before the doctor could finish spouting more of his bullshit, he suddenly found himself shoved onto his back, his wife straddling his chest, and not in the good way, pinning his arms by his sides, his nose pinched and two large pills shoved in his mouth all while the woman that he loved glared down at him, daring him to refuse swallowing the pills that were guaranteed to make him sicker.

When he turned his head to spit the pills out, she slapped one of her dainty little hands over his mouth and tightened her pinch on his nose as she calmly said with a serene smile that actually frightened him a bit, “Swallow.”

He did, but not because he was afraid of his wife, which there may have been a slight possibility at that moment that he was, but because he was curious what the hell had happened to make his normally sane wife lose her fucking mind. He could have easily shoved her off and freed himself, but the thought surprisingly never even entered his mind. He would never do anything that could hurt her.

So, he laid there, glaring right back at her as he slowly swallowed the pills, dry. As soon as the pills went down his throat she removed her hand and calmly got up and walked towards the door as though this little break in sanity never happened. Even the doctor that had been trying to get him to swallow the damn pills for the past half hour stood there, slack jawed as he stared after Zoe.

Obviously feeling the need to explain her crazed actions, she turned around, cleared her throat delicately and explained, “They’re serving fried chicken in the lower restaurant in twenty minutes,” she said with a shrug and a sheepish smile that made the doctor take a hasty step back, probably thinking that the woman was insane, but since Trevor knew that she was simply trying to keep up with the twins that she was carrying, he simply placed his hand over his stomach, rolled over onto his side and promptly fell asleep.

Chapter 7

“Can I get you anything else, ma’am?” Edmund, the cute waiter who’d she’d gotten to know quite well over the past two days, asked as he picked up another empty glass and plate.

“Another banana split and a chocolate milk?” she asked, not quite able to meet his gaze as she stepped aside so that he could place the cheeseburger platter, plate of lasagna, American chop suey, chicken tenders with French fries and onion rings on the table that he’d just cleared.

“With extra bananas,” he said with a smile and an understanding nod as he pulled out his tablet and added her order while she stood there, trying not to think about the fact that he’d probably spent more time in her room over the past two days, bringing her food, than anywhere else.

“Please,” she said right around the time that the pained groan sounded from the floor reminding her to ask for something else. “And more Gatorade, please?”

“Certainly,” Edmund said with a nod as he grabbed the last empty plate and placed it on the cart, which earned a small grunt that they both knew by this point meant, “Thank you.”

He started to push the cart towards the door when the large tan hand was suddenly raised in the air, holding a twenty-dollar bill. With a smile and a murmured thank you, Edmund accepted the money and continued to push the cart towards the door that he’d left propped open. Once he’d pushed the cart out, he allowed the door to close behind him.

“Do you want to try and eat something?” she asked the large man curled up in the fetal position on the floor as she cut the cheeseburger in half.

He didn’t answer her, but he did open one eye so that he could narrow it accusingly on her before he shut it and resumed softly groaning miserably from the spot that he’d claimed on the floor by the door as his. The only time he’d left that spot in the last two days was to use the bathroom, take a shower, three attempted baths to soothe his stomach and one time to crawl on his hands and knees to the balcony with the hopes that the fresh air would somehow make him feel better.

Nothing of course worked.

Well, technically the pills worked since they stopped him from getting sick every time that he smelled food and managed to knock him out for a few hours at a time, but they also made him dizzy, his vision a bit blurry and left him incredibly thirsty. He’d probably gone through two gallons of Gatorade a day, which of course meant that he would have to get up more frequently for trips to the bathroom, which exacerbated his dizziness and would allow his nausea to kick in once again.

The poor guy just couldn’t seem to catch a break, she thought with a pitying shake of her head and a small sigh as she picked up half her burger and took a big, satisfying bite that nearly earned a moan of appreciation, but she knew better than to do that. Not with poor Trevor stuck on the floor, starving, grumbling and having an absolutely miserable time.

Not that she was having a great time, because she definitely wasn’t, not with Trevor like this, but she had to admit that it was rather nice to get a break from the constant hunger pains that came with carrying Bradford twins. When she wasn’t eating, and she still couldn’t believe that she could eat so much and not even feel the slightest bit full, she was sitting on the floor, holding Trevor’s head in her lap and holding his hand as he suffered through this.

Part of her wished that they’d never come, but the other part of her, the one that couldn’t help smiling whenever she thought about how sweet Trevor was to

bring her on this trip, was glad that they’d come. She’d never been on a trip before and even though most people would probably rank this as a horrible trip, one that they’d probably pray would end soon, she was actually enjoying herself…sort of.

Bad or good, this was her first real trip and she was going to do her best to enjoy it, even while she rubbed Trevor’s back as the poor man dry heaved in the bathroom. Most people would probably call her crazy for trying to enjoy this trip when it had obviously gone to hell quickly, but she didn’t care. She was on her honeymoon with her incredibly handsome, albeit sick, husband and she was determined to enjoy herself.

“Kill…me…,” Trevor groaned as he dragged himself across the short distance, wrapped his hand gently around her ankle and held on even as he caressed her ankle with small circles with his thumb.

Taking another bite of her burger, which she’d like to point out was really good, she knelt down on the floor next to him so that she could run the fingers of her free hand through his short, soft hair.

“It will be fine,” she promised him even as she took another bite of that incredibly juicy burger and wondered if she could get Edmund to bring her another one before the dinner rush started.


Tags: R.L. Mathewson Honeymoon from Hell Romance
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