Honey Moon Read Online Free Page B

Laree. Don’t answer that. Leave it to me.” He grabbed it from her and slapped the band around his wrist. “You need to order my tux and email everyone we’ll be off the grid for a month. Six months or longer if we hit the jackpot with that home you want on Europa. Only the biggest and the best for my girl.”
    I’m such a bastard . If he was wrong or failed to show the world the truth, there was a slight possibility his bride would get a five-by-five cell, regardless of the vid-cam and un-posted blog he’d left hidden on his server, documenting that any subversive acts were his and his alone.
    Laree arched her brows. “Whoever sent that text blocked their ID. I thought that was a crime?
    Also, wanting to give a wedding gift in person at some tavern I’ve never heard of, instead of using the Net? It’s so creepy.”
    And damn expensive. A black market wrist phone with ID blocked had to be incinerated within a time window he imagined to be less than a few hours or the user could be tracked.
    “If you think I’m a sucker who’ll fall for a bachelor prank, why don’t you meet me there?”
    She laughed. “You know what happens in old-fashioned bars?”
    “People have a drink?”
    “People are exposed as losers. Only lowlifes go to dumps that aren’t clubs.”
    Right. Pay exorbitant cover charges for an overpriced, watered-down drink. Perhaps the sender had more concern for his wallet. The cryptic text gnawed at him.
    The moment Laree sat at the desk, he typed on his wrist phone —Terrible consequence if I turn down this wedding present? K. 2pm, not 3.
    He’d find out if someone was onto him before Laree arrived, then he’d whine to her that no one had shown and waste another minute trying to coax her into at least letting him finish his cheap beer before she dragged him out the door with her nose held high.
     
    * * * *
     
    The next morning, he was back at the bedroom window and watching the sun climb the horizon against a cloudless backdrop, brightening the perpetual smog hazing the city. Millions of humans surrounded him in this metropolis alone, so why did he feel like the most isolated nutter on Earth?
    He angled the blind, encouraging rays to penetrate the solitary window of their sixty-third floor abode. The light kissed Laree in the face, causing her to blink, and he slid back into bed. He eased his arm over to rest his hand on her hip.
    She groaned. “Samuel, please. Get your hand off my ass, close that damn shade and be a dear. I need breakfast.”
    Yeah, yeah. He hopped out of bed.
    The lonely jitterbugs prowling within him died painfully, stamped out by self-pity as he dumped cereal into a bowl and hunted unsuccessfully for milk. Not even a cuddle to start one of the last days he had left as a free man on this beautiful planet, then nothing to eat but multigrain flakes. Laree was obsessed with not leaving a crumb for a cockroach before hopping the cruise rocket heading to a gluttonous holiday on the moon and beyond.
    He cracked open the carton of OJ, sniffed and waited. When he didn’t keel over dead from past expiration dated fumes, he poured juice over the cereal while walking from the kitchen into the partitioned bedroom slash office.
    “Whaaat?” He set the bowl on the desk beside Laree’s elbow. She’d looked at his offering with a flinch. He shrugged and raised the orange juice carton. He drank, head tipped back, to hide from the annoyance gathering in her eyes.
    “Wipe your mouth, go shave and get out of here, darling. Be sure you’re back in time.”
    He dutifully wiped his mouth and offered her the carton. “Go where and back in time for what?”
    She slammed the juice down onto the desk, blew a heavy sigh and he braced.
    “We went over this yesterday. You need to return that tux. Make them lower the pant cuffs. I told them you were six foot four, but did they listen? Then run this list of errands before meeting me at that bar.”
    Onward bachelor soldier, marching as to