Love Is Nuts (3 Tales) (2 page)

He thought fast.

“Because I don’t want to be selfish or—”

“Too late.”

“Or greedy,” he bit out through clenched teeth. “I don’t need a paycheck to survive, and plenty of other people do. Don’t you watch the news? Haven’t you seen the unemployment figures? Why should I take a job away from someone who needs the work more?”

A good answer, he thought.

Mona rolled her eyes. She wasn’t buying.

Screw it. How’d they get on this subject anyway? Oh, right…

He heaved a resigned sigh. Time to bite the bullet and admit the truth – which had nothing to do with his job ambitions.

“Listen, the issue is divorce, not money. I just don’t believe in it. Okay?”

“No.” Her brows pulled together in a frown. “You told me when we first met that you weren’t the ‘marrying kind.’ If you don’t believe in marriage, how can you
not
believe in divorce?” she yelled, obviously exasperated.

So was Danny by this time. A good thing, too, because the anger helped him to spit out what he might not have been able to say otherwise. This subject cut close to the bone.

“But that’s the whole point! The reason I’ve never wanted to marry is because I want a divorce even less!” he yelled back – then caught himself and tried to explain in a calmer tone. “My parents split when I was little. It was bad, and I’ve never forgotten it. I’ve always promised myself that no kid of mine will ever hurt the way I did. I mean it, Mona” – he stared hard into her eyes – “when we marry, it’s for keeps. I will
never
leave you. And if you try to divorce me, I’ll fight you every step of the way.”

“Oh, you…you…” Her eyes filled with tears. “Damn you! That’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me!” Bawling like a baby, she bolted from the balcony back into the suite.

Danny heard a door slam.

She’d locked herself in the bathroom again.

Hell.

“Her hormones are jangled, dear. Pregnancy makes some women weepy, you know. It’s nothing to worry about,” Angelica said, breezing out of the suite to take the chair Mona had just vacated. She wore a flowing floral print caftan and carried a small notebook. “I think you two are going to make an absolutely adorable couple. Everyone else thinks so, too. Except Great-Uncle Guido – but he always was an old grouch. Do you want to hear your latest messages? There’s a bunch.”

There would be, of course. Generations of deceased relatives had been using the psychic hotline to send congratulations and well wishes for the coming nuptials. The living ones were arriving the next day. It was supposed to be just a small private affair, so Angelica had invited only three hundred of their nearest and dearest family members and friends. Danny groaned inwardly. It was going to be a friggin’ circus with too many clowns. He wondered if Mona would let him hide out in the bathroom with her. Maybe they—

Bath?

Oh, what an idea.

“Now then…” Angelica opened her notebook and flipped through the pages, scanning them for the newest entries.

“Later, Gran.” Thinking of a curtain of steam in hopes of shielding his real thoughts from any lurking spirit spies, Danny beat a hasty retreat after his teary and leery bride. En route through the suite, he collected a piece of paper and Mona’s purse from a coffee table, then fished his wallet out of his jeans’ pocket and put it and the paper into the purse.

“Mona?” He knocked on the bathroom door.

“Go away.”

Didn’t she ever get tired of this game?

Cursing under his breath, he stepped back a pace –
wham
– and kicked the door in.

Mona gasped and grabbed for a towel.

Danny stared in dumb wonder. “You’re naked.”

Well, she had been before the towel covered all the good parts. Danny hated that towel.

“I…I was g-going to soak in the tub. It helps me relax,” she stammered.

Amazing. They’d both been thinking of steamy baths. Except the one he had in mind was a lot larger.

“How about a soak in a Jacuzzi instead? There’s a huge one here, according to the brochures. Big enough to swim in.” He took off his T-shirt and loafers.

She backed up a step, looking like a deer bayed by hounds. “What are you doing?”

“Stripping for the hot tub. It’s in the Skyclad Court. No clothes. You did know there was a nudist park attached to this place, right?” His jeans hit the floor.

“I didn’t read the brochures,” she strangled out.

“Mona, why are you blushing? We
have
been naked together before.”

“Not in public!”

“But that’s the beauty of this plan,” he whispered. “C’mon, don’t you want to escape Saturday’s circus?”

None of their guards would expect them to try an escape in the nude. Well, the disembodied ones might, but as long as he didn’t actively think about his plan he could hopefully throw them off, too. And God knew a naked Mona gave him plenty else to think about. Even dressed, Mona was a powerful distraction, a force to be reckoned with. She was so different from other girls he’d dated, wasn’t she? So straightforward and straight-talking, so open and unpretentious. So
real
.

Their past affair had been short, but in the course of it she’d struck chords inside him no one else ever had. In bed they’d made beautiful music together, to use an old cliché – but it fit. No, the sex hadn’t been his usual kinky fare, but maybe that’s why it was so good. Mona hadn’t needed
kink
to arouse him. She’d offered something better. Honest emotion. And he just hadn’t been able to handle it. Then. But looking back on it, Danny saw the truth now. She’d scared the crap out of him. Hell, that was why he’d ended that affair so soon. Because deep down he’d known she was getting under his skin.

“Escape?” she mouthed, evidently realizing the need for secrecy. She caught on fast.

Or maybe not.

“Yeah, sure.” Her gaze darkened with sad cynicism, wistful and scornful at once. “I should’ve known you’d find a way out, Romeo.”

“Horse hockey,” Angelica would have said (if she knew) – which she didn’t (he hoped). And neither did Mona. But Danny couldn’t risk explaining the plan now. He wrapped a towel around his hips while Mona re-anchored her towel sarong-style; then he handed her purse to her and steered her through the suite toward freedom – depending on your definition of freedom, that was.

Did it mean playing the field, having multiple ever-changing choices? Or landing at last on one field, one solid choice, and putting down roots. The first way, he knew from experience, gave you an ephemeral sense of freedom, a temporary rush, like a bird soaring high in the air. But even birds had to land sometime…build nests…

Maybe it was time for him to land, too? Willingly and without regrets? That way led to
freedom of the soul
, he’d heard. But from who? Or should that be whom? Grammar had never been his strong suit. Neither was philosophy, for that matter.

Good God,
where
were all these concepts coming from anyway? He’d never been a deep thinker before. He suddenly wondered if all the spirit guides hovering about had been surreptitiously guiding him.

So, okay, maybe he’d inherited some of his grandmother’s abilities; maybe he was a little psychic, too. Angelica said everyone was, but most repressed it. Danny was willing to believe that now. He’d always had fleeting visions, heard whispers in his head. But he’d never listened to them before. Maybe the prospect of fatherhood had shocked him into a deeper awareness. Or maybe in that simple decisive act of kicking open the door to confront Mona, he’d kicked down some barriers inside himself as well.

And maybe he was just
finally
starting to grow up!

He halted briefly in front of the exit. “Hey, Gran,” he called, “Mona wants a hot soak to unwind.” The honest truth, right? Nothing suspicious there. “We’re going to check out the Jacuzzi in the Skyclad Court. Okay?”

“Of course. What a nice idea.” Angelica beamed a sunny smile from the entrance to the balcony, her caftan billowing about her in the warm breeze. “You two run along and enjoy yourselves. It’s lovely to see you beginning to relax with each other.” She paused a moment, brows raised in mild speculation. “You are relaxing, aren’t you?”

Danny pasted his most congenial grin on his face. “That’s what the hot tub is for.”

Before anyone could say anything else, he hustled Mona out of the suite and down the hall to the elevator.

She hugged herself, hanging on to her purse and her makeshift sarong with a death grip. “I feel so conspicuous.”

“Why?” This was a seasonal warm weather resort. “Mona, people prance around here in Speedos and string bikinis. In bath towels we’re almost overdressed.”

As if to prove his point, the elevator doors slid open to display a testosterone-endowed trio of sun-and-fun types in swim trunks. The middle one leered at Mona as the elevator descended.

“Heading to the hot tub? Maybe we’ll see you there.” He winked.

Danny resisted the urge to slug him. “Not if I see you first.”

That ended that conversation.

The doors slid open again at the ground floor, and he rushed Mona through the blossom-bedecked lobby with its decorative accents of ancient Greek art (the naughty kind), through the exit, and into the sunshine and fresh air.

“You didn’t have to be so rude,” she fussed. “He was just trying to be friendly.”

“But with
my
wife, damn it.”

Well, she would be within the hour.

If his plan worked.

And if she agreed to it.

Which suddenly looked doubtful.

Mona skidded up short. “Your
what
?”

Danny’s recent resolve started to wither under her stare. In all his newfound self-awareness, the grand revelation of how much Mona meant to him, he’d forgotten one thing. That he didn’t mean much to her.

“You don’t love me, and frankly I don’t love you either.”
She’d said it straight to his face back at that stupid tearoom. If his grandmother hadn’t taken charge, they might never have progressed from there to here. Mona had agreed to marry him only because she was pregnant. Because she had to.

But, hell, she’d been
wrong
about his feelings. Did he dare hope she was wrong about hers, too?

“My wife,” he repeated, searching her eyes for some sign she liked the sound of that phrase. He knew he did. “Mona, I
want
to marry you.”

Her gaze went wary. Now she apparently viewed him not only as selfish and callous, but also insane.

“What happened to our
great escape
?” she hissed.

“Shh, don’t look now, sweetheart, but we’re in the middle of it.” Also in the middle of a busy resort with dozens of people strolling around, any of which might be the undercover agents Angelica had hired to watch them. “C’mon, keep walking. Act casual.”

“No” – she dug in her heels – “not until you explain exactly what’s going on. First you want to escape marriage. Then you don’t. Then you do again? Danny, this makes no sense.
You
make no sense. And…and…” The wary gaze misted with tears. “You’ve never called me sweetheart before!”

He hadn’t? Shame on him.

“Well, get used to it, sweetheart, because you’re going to be hearing it a lot from now on.”

And to punctuate it, he pulled her hard against his chest and kissed her long and deep – kissed her breathless – kissed her until flames crackled and he smelled smoke.

The hell with the watchers. Let them take pictures! Seriously, he should have done this sooner. He kissed so much better than he verbalized.

“Anything else you need to know?” he murmured against her mouth.

“Oh, you…you…” She collapsed in his arms, sobbing on his shoulder.

But at least she wasn’t racing for the nearest restroom. He was starting to make some progress.

“Mona, I don’t want to escape marrying you. I just don’t want the
wedding
.”

She made a strangling noise in her throat.

Um, right, that hadn’t come out quite the way he’d intended. He tried again.

“I mean that big crazy Babble deal.”

“Babylonian,” she corrected with a sniffle.

“Whatever.
That’s
what I want to escape. And I thought you did, too.”

“I do.” She burrowed in closer, wrapping arms around his neck.

Wow, he was on a roll.

“Then let’s elope, sweetheart. Today. Now.”

“
Elope
?” She began to cry again.

He tightened the embrace, locking them firmly together. “Yeah. There’s a walk-in wedding chapel here, right across from the Skyclad Court.” One could imagine it did a brisk business in that location. “In minutes I can make you mine.” No muss, no fuss, and clothing optional. “How about it?”