Honeymooning Read Online Free Page A

should get an act together!”
    They waved goodbye, and when the couple turned to go down the two steps holding hands, Janet was surprised to find the sight of their bare bottoms sweet.
    Tom shut the door and immediately leaped into the bed next to her. “Gimme some of that sheet. I’m never doing that again.”
    “You did amazingly well, darling. Now, about that talent show act…”
    “Christ on a cracker. There’s only one naked act I know we perform well, and that stays in here. There isn’t enough money in the whole world that would talk me into playing naked volleyball. Not even a million dollars. Hey, how much you think a wine buyer makes? That sounds pretty fancy for a job where you just get to drink wine all day. Must be nice to have money like that.”
    Janet felt as if her skin didn’t quite fit. She blinked and focused on the door handle. It, too, was a pineapple shape, yellow and orange, with a bright green leafy stem that looked as if it would make the door hard to open.
      “Remember when we were going to have that talk about our money?”
    Tom shook his head and pulled almost imperceptibly away. “Now’s not the time.”
    “I know, love. But there never is a good time with you. Now that I have you all to myself, I think I’m going to have my way with you.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words, but Good God, if the man didn’t realize soon that he was rich by marriage, she’d eat his hat.
    He folded his arms and thinned his lips—his mule look, Janet called it. “There’s nothing to say. You have money. I don’t. I already made my peace with that.” His scowl negated the late sunshine that came in through the cracks in the blinds.
    “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. We have to talk about the fact that I want a joint banking account. With you. With my husband.”
    “Oh, good.” He crossed his arms. “You want to give me an allowance. I’m not a child, Janet. I hope that’s not what you were looking for when you married me.”
    “Stop it,” Janet said. “Suggesting that is insulting to yourself and demeaning to me. Your oversimplification and deliberate misunderstanding trivializes an important and time-sensitive subject.”
    “Now, ma’am, you know I’m just a dumb hick,” Tom drawled. “Don’t have the cash to buy them ten-dollar words.”
    Janet ground her teeth in frustration.
    “Maybe I need a walk,” he said.
    She didn’t say anything.
    Tom went on, “Or maybe I’ll take me on out to the porch to set a while. Maybe I’ll whittle something I can sell on the roadside.”
    Oh, he was being an idiot. Janet’s vision blurred with the kind of tears she hated the most—the kind that came when she was completely, utterly beyond angry. “Go then. It’s your porch, after all. You paid for it,” she said as he stood in the doorway. For a moment he was silhouetted by the light outside. Naked, he stood tall. He reached up to clamp his hat tighter on his head. Then, not embarrassed at all, he strode around the side of the cabin toward the back.
    Janet huffed. This was insane. They were on their honeymoon for Chrissakes. They were married! And this was something he’d always stubbornly said he wouldn’t discuss until after marriage. But what he’d apparently meant was that he’d never, ever discuss it, and that, to borrow a phrase from Tom, was crap on a cracker indeed.
    The plaintive strains of “Clementine” being played on a harmonica filtered in the open window.
    His goddamn harmonica. Again with that song. She’d heard it one trillion times since he’d bought the instrument—it was the only song he knew, and it made her want to chew light bulbs. He knew it, too. This was her punishment for bringing up the taboo.
    Something struck her. Where the hell had he been hiding that thing when he went outside? Had it been somehow in his hat?
    Well, she didn’t care. Two could play this game. She reached into the front pocket of her suitcase and pulled