ROMANCE: Mason (Bad Boy Alpha Male Stepbrother Romance Boxset) (New Adult Contemporary Stepbrother Romance Collection) (106 page)

“Is this a bedroom or a prison cell?” Artie asked, setting his suitcase on the table before beginning to unpack their belongings.

“Both. Maybe it’s just another form of their positive punishment.”

Samantha and Artie both paused at the loud bang. Thinking it was a knock, Samantha headed towards the door before she heard it again, only this time it was clear that it was coming from the wall behind their bed. The wall connecting to the adjoining room.

Samantha grimaced as it became clear that the banging was the sound of a headboard hitting the wall repeatedly.

Artie chuckled, “Looks like someone’s marriage is in pretty good shape to me.”

“That’s disgusting.” Samantha frowned, shaking her head at the eyebrow waggle Artie gave her.

“It wasn’t so disgusting when we were in their position on our honeymoon. I can only imagine what the neighbors thought of us.”

It was Samantha’s turn to laugh. “Probably that I was being mauled by a wild animal. Which is partially true.”

“What can I say, you unleashed the beast.”

Samantha scoffed, “More like a bear cub hitting puberty; don’t give yourself too much credit. But all I can say is that, if they continue all night, you need to go and say something to them.”

“What? Why me?”

Samantha shrugged, beginning to hang some of her blouses in the closet. “Because you’re the man. Or the bear. The man-bear.”

“Oh, so you’re only a feminist when it’s convenient for you?” Artie challenged.

Samantha huffed, breathing through her nose in frustration. “I am not having this conversation again Artie. All I’m saying is that people typically regard me as a very pleasant person upon meeting me. People tend to have to take your personality with a grain of salt when they meet you. So, if it’s inevitable that they might not see eye-to-eye with you, there’s no harm in you interrupting them.”

“A grain of salt?” Artie asked, “People think I’m fun Samantha. However, when we meet people they think you have a permanent stick up your butt.”

“Permanent stick?”

“Yes!” Artie said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “We’ve been over this love. I hate to break it to you, but you’ve always been a bit of a prude.”

“A prude? What are you talking about?”

“Babe, babe, c’mon, you know what I mean. You’re always the first to turn in and you never want to go out.”

“Ha! Well excuse me if my idea of a night out isn’t romping around in the woods with a bunch of bears and their human mates. It’s weird!”

“Here we go again,” Artie muttered.

“What, its true! You say you’d go anywhere I want but you always pressure me into doing the same thing! I don’t like it!”

“Well being married with me you’re just going to have to deal with it. I need my pack and you’re going to be around my pack sooner or later.”

“Fine, but can it be in a restaurant, at a club, a bar or even at our house playing charades.”

Artie closed his eyes in exasperation. “We need to be out in nature Samantha.”

“All the time?”

“You married me!”

“Well this isn’t what I signed up for!”

“Then bail the hell out!”

Samantha took a step back, mouth opened in a half formed response before she really registered his words.

“Babe, I’m sorry I didn’t-”

Any further apology or backtracking was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.

Samantha stared at Artie sadly for a second before walking past him to open the door.

“Yes, may I help you?” she asked in a sugary sweet voice.

The couple that faced her on the other side was an odd one. The man stood at her height, a stout and well-built man with a buzz cut and absurdly large arms. The woman next to him was twice his height, standing at around six-foot-four. She was slender, so thin that if the wind blew hard enough she’d likely fall over. Her blonde hair went halfway down her waist and her face was heavily powdered and layered with copious amounts of makeup.

“Yes” the woman spoke in a heavy European accent. “We were a bit concerned about the noise. You see, we share a wall, I believe behind your bed, and so needless to say the walls are very thin.”

Samantha let out a sarcastic snort, “trust me, we know.”

“Yes, well” the man spoke up, “I’m Jim, my wife is Tina, and we don’t want to cause any ruckus but, if y’all two could keep it down, that’d be just lovely. Now we didn’t mean to disturb you folks, we’ll see you tomorrow at group activity.”

The pair walked off, returning to their room with a soft shut of the door.

Gob-smacked, Samantha shut the door and turned to face an equally shocked Artie.

For a moment they shared a brief chuckle at the irony of the couple’s request before Samantha remembered what Artie had said before they had been interrupted.

“Well” she said, “I’ll leave you to finish unpacking your things, I think I’m going to take a walk around the resort. I’ll be back before you usually go to sleep.”

“Samantha-“

“I’ll see you later, alright babe? I’ll see if I can find us some snacks, I know you didn’t eat much today so you’ll probably be hungry later on tonight.”

Artie pursed his lips but nodded. “Alright, thanks.”

“No problem” Samantha said, picking up her jacket and pulling it on quickly before leaving the room.

6

It was late when Samantha got back in. Artie feigned sleep but Samantha could tell that he was faking. Electing to ignore it she tiredly changed into a pair of pajamas and climbed into bed next to him. She groaned; just as she had predicted, sharing the twin sized bed would be next to impossible. She agitatedly shoved Artie so that his spread-eagled limbs shifted closer to the other side of the bed. He grunted but still kept up the act of being asleep.

Samantha tried to stick to her side of the bed, but the close quarters ensured that they’d have to touch. Of course, it was probably intentional on behalf of the retreat hosts. Probably a form of positive punishment. She sighed, wondering just when it had turned into a bad thing to touch her husband.

She could claim that it was solely due to Artie’s harsh words from earlier which had indeed hurt, but if she were honest with herself their marital problems were much deeper and had been going on for much longer.

Artie’s foot ran up her leg to test the waters, and, while still angry, Samantha curled into his chest, knowing that if there was any chance of her getting some sleep that night, it was through using Artie as her personal pillow.

With the sound of Artie’s steadily slowing breathing and heartbeat in her ears soothing her, she took the time to stare at the wall across the room and think. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment in their marriage when they had started becoming so hostile towards one another, but if she could pick out one of the main problems, it was that Artie never listened to her.

Samantha would tell Artie things two, three or five times and he just wouldn’t get it. She would ask him to take out the trash and it would still be sitting there the day after trash day. She would tell him there was a movie she wanted to see Friday, and come Friday morning he would be telling her that he was going out for a drink with his pack. She would ask him to try and be a bit more gentlemanly but every morning he still drank from the milk carton and every date he never opened the door for her. All she wanted was to feel special and ultimately she just ended up feeling like she was being ignored. She didn’t feel important to him anymore, like she was his priority.

She couldn’t help wondering if he had meant what he’d said earlier. Did he really not think that their marriage was worth saving anymore? Did she even think that it was? All she knew was that, if the retreat didn’t help them and she didn’t start seeing tangible results, she couldn’t see herself staying for much longer.

7

Artie and Samantha both woke to the vibrating of their headboard and the sound of a headboard repeatedly being slammed against the wall behind them. Samantha groaned, burying her head into the crook of Artie’s neck and trying to reclaim just a few more seconds of blissful sleep.

The room had heated while they were asleep, after having forgotten to turn on the air conditioning, and their sweaty bodies stuck together like gum on a shoe. With a small wince the two extracted themselves from each other and, as if on cue, both yawned as they stretched their arms over their heads.

The couple went about their morning routine, dodging each other as they brushed teeth, combed hair, powdered faces, tied ties and laced boots respectively. After a quick cup of bland coffee for Samantha and a brief check of the stats from the football game played the previous night for Artie, the two made their way out of the lodgings to the main ‘base’ of the camp.

Similar to when they arrived, the Marriage Menders were there in their bright yellow shirts with equally bright smiles to greet them. After about fifteen more minutes, nine other couples joined Artie and Samantha to form a loose half-circle around the Menders.

The woman who had previously introduced herself as Jill stepped out to the forefront with a paisley-covered clipboard clutched enthusiastically to her chest as she gazed over the group, counting soundlessly to herself.

“Alright, looks like everyone’s here! Now, today is our first morning of group activities and we will be dividing you up into two different groups. The first group will go with counselors Kim, Amy, Brandon and Brett for some fun group activities while group two will be going in for some helpful therapy sessions with certified therapists Nicole, Greg, Marcus, Candace and Linda.

“So, when I call your names please go to your counselors or therapists. Okay, in group one we have the McDougalls, the Bryants, the Archers, the Leroys and the Spratzs. In group two we have the Mattins, the Oswalds, the Evans, the Rands and the McNeils.”

With a sigh, Artie took Samantha’s clenched fist and eased it open to hold her hand. Shooting him a half-smile, Samantha nodded as if to reassure herself before letting Artie lead her over to the therapists.

Each therapist held a piece of paper with a couple’s name on it, like a valet driver at an airport. The therapist previously identified as Greg held a paper reading ‘Artie and Sam’ and looked surprised at the fact that Sam was a girl.

Sam frowned at the once over he gave her, as if checking to confirm that her breasts were indeed real and not padding. Growing up with an older brother named Samuel, people were constantly getting the two mixed up and every time she was referred to as Sam made her feel like she continued to live in her brother’s shadow.

Artie noticed the sign and Samantha’s responding frown right away and steeled himself for what was sure to be a long day.

8

Greg was not much of a talker. No, if Artie could choose only one word to describe him it would be observant. Or maybe creepy. With all of his shrewd watching combined with his narrowed eyes and inordinately long neck, he did resemble something of a predatory bird waiting for the right moment to strike.

He looked like the therapist you’d expect to see in a bad seventies’ show. He wore a green turtleneck under a brown checkered jacket and his khaki-colored corduroy pants contrasted horrendously with his black alligator dress shoes.

He had a bad habit of biting his pen and after every answer to the preliminary questions he asked he would make an interested little ‘hmm’ noise as if every yes or no question revealed some deep underlying secret in desperate need of surfacing to unlock the key to marital bliss.

After Samantha and Artie both claimed that they did not know their own, let alone the other’s blood type, and Artie asked why that mattered if some people were universal donors, which received an annoyed look from Samantha, Greg told them that they were done with the background questions and to begin getting to get to the root of their concerns as a couple.

“So,” Greg said, words drawn out in a slow, tired-sounding drawl. “Samantha, just to start, what is your frustration with Arthur at this point?”

“Artie,” Artie cut in, “Sorry, I don’t mean to cut you off but its Artie, not Arthur.”

Samantha rolled her eyes, earning the couple an ominous mark on Greg’s clipboard before Samantha spoke.

“As I was going to say, I feel like Artie never listens, he cuts me off or ignores me altogether. Sometimes he seems to just automatically tune me out when I open my mouth.”

“Oh I’m sorry Samantha, did you say something?” Artie joked, making Samantha slap him on the backside of his head, earning another mark from Greg.

“Do you see?” Samantha asked, frustrated already. “And I forgot to mention earlier, Samantha, not Sam. Just for future reference.”

“Duly noted” Greg said, adjusting his glasses on the tip of his nose. “Now, I want to get back to what you first said Samantha, and Artie correct me if I’m wrong, but do you think that Artie’s apparent not listening to you as seen with cutting you off or making jokes is perhaps his way of trying not to deal with real world issues?”

“Perha-”

“What real world issues?” Artie charged, ignoring Samantha’s huff of outrage. “I’m certainly not afraid of anything.”

“Well, do you not think that the potential crumbling of your marriage is a real world issue?” Greg asked.

“I-”

“Of course he doesn’t” Samantha stepped in. “Everything is just one giant joke to him. He doesn’t listen and even when he does he doesn’t actually do what he says he will, he never takes anything seriously. In fact this whole thing is a joke to him. He didn’t even want to come here! The only thing he even shows a semblance of sobriety and seriousness for is when he’s a bear.”

“A bear?”

“It’s a sex thing!” Artie rushed to say, hand squeezing Samantha’s knee briefly as if to remind her once again that there were some things, even if true, that you couldn’t just go around saying, especially to a therapist. Artie did not like the idea of one or maybe both of them being locked up somewhere for ‘further psychological examination’.

Samantha blushed, shooting a glare at Artie that Greg took to be embarrassment but Artie knew as rage, probably at Artie’s inability to think of a better, less ridiculous excuse.

“Would you like to talk about that further?” Greg asked.

“No thanks doc” Artie said, “Maybe later, we at least require you to buy us dinner first if you want to swing with us.”

Samantha grit her teeth, “To be clear doctor, we are not swingers.”

Greg nodded, writing something else down on his notes before saying, “Understandable, however, I assure you that this is strictly a no judgment zone and nothing would be wrong if you were. In fact, my wife and I are proud swingers and we’ve never been happier.”

Artie and Samantha shared a brief look out of the corner of their eyes as they repressed a shiver of disgust. Greg was no spring chicken. And while bald older gentlemen were not automatically unpleasing on the eyes, the image of Greg having sex with anyone, let alone multiple people on different occasions, was a bit of a nauseating thought.

“So, any other questions?” Samantha asked, eager to change the subject.

Greg perused over his notes for a moment before looking at Artie. “Well, you brought up an interesting subject. Is there anything in you and Samantha’s sex life you’d like to change?”

Without even glancing at the withering look he could feel from Samantha burning into the side of his head. “Nope, not a thing!”

9

“Sorry,” Samantha said, lifting up their cuffed hands. Artie’s two points from eye rolling yesterday had earned them a sixty second hug but Samantha’s four points in their therapy session had earned them a set of handcuffs, and not the fuzzy kind.

Now they had to reconfigure their usual interactions with chaffed wrists from all the tugging and pulling between the two of them.

“Don’t be sorry now babe,” Artie shrugged, lifting Samantha’s wrist with his slightly, “I’m sure things will get a lot worse.”

“Mhmm, thanks babe,” Samantha said, tugging Artie along as they walked towards the yellow-clad counselor holding up the sign with their names on it. “Well at least it doesn’t say Sam” she muttered, smiling at the counselor whose nametag read ‘Brandon’.

“Hello Oswalds” Brandon said, voice blissfully neutral. Samantha was preparing herself for a drawling monotone like Greg or a perky shrill squeak like Jill.

“So what fresh hell do you have for us on this great day one?” Artie asked, getting a brief hand squeeze in reprimand from Samantha though she couldn’t entirely hide her small grin.

“We’re starting off slow today,” Brandon said, grin never faltering, “Greg told me your therapy session didn’t go too well because you two wouldn’t open up, so we’re going to do a fun activity to get those communication juices flowing.”

‘Communication juices?’ Samantha mouthed, getting a chuckle from Artie.

“If you’ll just follow me this way we can begin,” Brandon said, gesturing towards another building across the grounds.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Artie said, following him.

“Slow down,” Samantha muttered, trying to yank Artie backwards, causing her husband to stumble.

“What was that for?” Artie hissed.

“I told you to slow down,” Samantha said calmly, flipping her hair behind her shoulder and leading the way, dragging Artie behind her in the process.

“Now you slow down,” Artie said, yanking on their joined wrists and causing Samantha to trip. She let out a shrill shriek of rage, looking down to where she had fallen on her knees and noticing the grass stain that would take forever to get out of her new pants.

Artie opened his mouth, maybe to apologize, but she didn’t want to hear it. As hard as she could she tugged on the handcuffs sending Artie tumbling to the ground with an ‘oof’.

Artie groaned, having landed on his back. He wriggled a hand underneath him, removing the tiny clay rock that had broken his fall and tossing it angrily away.

He sat up, forcing Samantha to come a bit closer. “What the hell was that?” Artie barked.

“You pushed me first!”

“It was an accident!”

“Accident my ass” Samantha snorted, “You were mad that I was taking the lead so you tried to get me back and caused me to fall.”

“Are you serious; that’s ridiculous!”

“Is it? You always do this, put on the macho man façade. You always have to enter somewhere first, you always speak over me, and you always pull these stunts to try and say that you’re in charge and always end in crap like now. I just bought these jeans Artie!”

“Really, that’s what you’re concerned about? Pants? I thought we were here to solely focus on our marriage?”

“This is a part of our marriage!” Samantha shrieked, throwing her hands up, causing Artie’s hands to shoot up as well, accidentally smacking Samantha in the face.

Artie’s eyes widened, realizing just how big of a pile of crap he’d buried himself in. He clenched his eyes shut for a brief moment preparing for an impact. And as if on cue he was tackled to the ground. Samantha had lunged, pinning him to the ground and using her one free hand to grip his hair, twisting it in a way that made his eyes water.

He bucked up, needing to get her off of him and sending her flat on her back beside him. Her eyes flew open as the breath was knocked out of her.

Artie didn’t have any time to recover as the adrenaline coursing through her had Samantha shooting back up again. Artie really regretted not going with Samantha to that self-defense class because apparently she had also learned to be an MMA fighter. She had used their joined hands to her advantage and looped it around his neck in a chokehold, maneuvering herself to be seated behind him with her leg wrapped tight around his waist.

“Not so much of a macho man now are you?” Samantha said, waving off the counselors that were watching in stunned horror. “Tap out baby and this will all be over. Tap out. The big bear isn’t so touch now is he?”

Humiliated and, much to his chagrin, a little turned on, Artie lightly grazed his claws against Samantha’s wrist, not enough to scar but enough to get her to let go from the pain. She hissed, yanking on his elongated arm hair and pulling out the beginning of tuffs of fur before Artie had time to shift his hand back to human form from the beginnings of the human-bear hybrid it had briefly been before his full transformation into a bear.

Artie roared, quivering from the beginnings of a full transformation before the Marriage Menders finally stepped in. Apparently they had been waiting for Jill to get there with the key, and now, with the key in hand, Brandon and Brett separated the two, holding them at arm’s length apart from each other as Jill ducked in between the two of them and unlocked the pair of cuffs.

Now, finally free, Artie and Samantha shook the Marriage Menders off of them. Taking a second to dust themselves off, they attempted to regain as much dignity as possible, a hard feat with all the other couples at the retreat now forming a loose circle around them with bated breath to see if they would fight again.

Greg walked slowly into the circle, wiping off his glasses with his coat pocket before perching them on the edge of his nose and looking down at Artie and Samantha with the disappointed look a parent wore when they had just caught their kids with their hand in the cookie jar.