My Husband's NOT in the Mafia

Chapter Two: A Cold Sweat

Chapter Two

  I woke up in a cold sweat, sitting straight up in bed.

  There was a muffled voice to my right, but I couldn't make out what was being said. I sprang out of the bed, and started running toward the door. It was still dark out, but there was warm spots of light on the floor and on the tables so I could see. There were small, soft objects on the hard wood that I couldn't make out, but they were sticking to my feet and I could feel them as I ran. I put my hand on the knob to open it, but it was locked. Who put all these locks on the door?

  Suddenly, a pair of strong hands gripped my shoulders and whipped me around.

  "Annabell, honey, it's me. It's me," he said, instantly calming me down. I looked into his eyes and melted in his grip, realizing where I really was. "I'm sorry, Derek. I'm so sorry."

  He pulled me in closer, holding me in his warm embrace. "It's not your fault," he whispered. "It's never your fault, don't ever think it's your fault." He rubbed my shoulders and started to trail kisses down my neck and across my bare collarbone. "Come back to bed." He held my hand and lead me back to the bed. The rose petals and candles were still lit from earlier. The pieces from Derek's suit were thrown haphazardly on one side of the bed and my white dress was on the other. I climbed into the bed, and Derek pulled the covers over me. Then he crawled over my body, stopping on top of me to kiss my forehead, before getting under the covers on my right.

  "Derek?"

  "Yes, pumpkin?"

  "Do I have to sleep?"

  Derek pulled me closer to his body and I lay my head where his arm met his shoulder,  both of his arms pulling me closer to him. He ran his fingers through my hair, and comforted me. "Well, I supposed we booked this hotel room for other things, yes? We've made that point clear already," he said, chuckling to himself. I laughed, "Of course, but can we just lay here? I can't go back to sleep tonight, not tonight."

  He kissed my forehead again. "Anything for the new Mrs. Abernathy."

  "Mm, I like the sound of that," I said, deep in my throat.

  "Good. That's what our children's friends will be calling you for the rest of your life, so you better get used to it now." I smiled at the thought of it. "Our children," I said, "are going to be so lucky that you'll be their dad." Derek smiled warmly and rubbed my cheek with his thumb. "No, it'll be the both of us that are lucky to wake up with the sound of our children's feet running up and down the hallway in the morning."

***

Derek was awoken by the sound of room service knocking at our door. I was still awake, but Derek had fallen asleep with me in his arms. He was startled, but I reminded him we ordered pancakes for the morning to be brought up to our room at nine o'clock.

Derek jumped out of bed, pushing our clothes into the closet, and throwing me one of the two bath robes the hotel provided. Derek donned one himself before opening the door. A lanky teen in a white button down and black slacks pushed our food cart into our room. Deciding that Derek and I were not wearing clothes under the robes, he looked once at me and once at Derek before his face turned a bright shade of red.

He looked down at the food quickly, revealing two platters of golden, decadent, delicious pancakes freshly buttered and covered in sweet maple syrup. As he hastily walked out of the room, his voice cracked as he said "Enjoy your stay!"

Derek closed the door quickly, untying his robe. He threw the robe to the floor as he jumped on top of me, kissing my lips gently and untying my own robe. I put my hand on his shoulder to stop him. "As much as I would love to, I would really love to eat those pancakes more."

Derek put in his hand on his chest as if he had been slapped. He gasped dramatically as we both began to laugh. He got up and proceeded to put his robe back on as I made my way to the steamy pancakes.

"I should've known that you would put those pancakes before me," Derek joked. I looked at him with a serious face as I said, "You knew I put pancakes first when you married me." I then broke out into a smile and we both laughed again. He walked toward me, coming up from behind and pulling me closer toward him as I began to dig in to my one and only favorite breakfast food. He began to kiss my shoulders and I thought to myself, 'This really is the life.'

  "You should really eat your pancakes. We have a long flight ahead of us to Italy," I reminded him. We were taking our honeymoon to different spots in Italy, starting with Venice. I don't know all of the details. Derek wanted to surprise me.

  He had rested his mouth on my shoulder and wouldn't budge. "Bufwhafifehduffwaftf," he muffled into me. "What?" I said, giggling. "But what if I don't want to?" He said. "What if I just want to stay here and make love to you forever and ever? What if we could have endless pancakes made for us? We'll get the presidential suite with multiple rooms for our kids to stay."

  I took another bite of my pancakes. "I swear, Derek, if you don't eat your pancakes, I will. Also, we paid for our trip to Italy already, remember? Wouldn't it be more romantic to be together under the Italian stars than here in the pollution filled air of Chicago?" Derek looked at me with his puppy-dog eyes.

  "No."

  I rolled my eyes and took the last bite of my pancakes. "Okay," I said, untying his robe, "but you need to eat your pancakes first."