Spiced Page 16

  “Jack—” Father Basil started.

  The man in the tux—nowhere near the bride, Tony noted—held up a hand and walked off. “Right. Wedding’s off.”

  “Asshole,” one of the sisters whispered.

  “Shut up, she loved him,” another whispered back.

  “Don’t use those damn curse words in Father McStuffy’s church,” Pepper’s other brother said. He, Tony noted, was also standing back from the women, but he was watching the groom as though he were deciding if the asshole walking away from his bride needed to have his ass kicked.

  Pepper turned, and she spotted him. Her lips curved up in a soft, half-lost, sorry and thank you for coming smile and he didn’t know if he was supposed to smile back, given the circumstances, but his pulse stalled, his mouth went dry, and rational thought fled his brain.

  He didn’t know if he wanted to be here, or if he even should be here, but he knew one thing: he wasn’t leaving.

  12

  Pepper had known there was a danger she’d be the center of attention today, but she hadn’t expected to feel an obligation to stay in the limelight.

  With Tarra’s wedding falling apart, though, she figured her sister would appreciate the distraction that Tony brought. Even though she wanted to be among the sisters comforting Tarra at the hotel. So at the reception—was it still called a reception when the wedding was canceled because the bride was apparently technically still married to her accidental Vegas fling?—she made the rounds, introducing Tony to anyone who seemed to be a little too jolly in their whispers about the drama.

  Good gravy. Pregnant and dumped at the altar.

  Poor Tarra.

  And how terrible was she that she was glad there was so much focus on Tony, that no one had noticed she wasn’t in the normal fight to hold the babies? She made sure to slip Noah and her nieces Hershey’s Kisses all afternoon and into the evening though.

  If all she’d ever be was Aunt Pepper, she’d be the best damn Aunt Pepper in the history of aunts. And she’d kick out Gran and Cinna and let Tarra move in with her, and they could raise Tarra’s baby together since Jack was being a jackhole about Tarra still being married, as if he didn’t know her at all, or possibly as if he were glad to have the excuse not to go through with the wedding.

  What was wrong with men these days?

  No matter. She had cake, she had a date, and she had a plan for her and Tarra and the baby. During a rare down moment in the awkward reception, she licked the last of the frosting off her fork and set it aside. She’d forgotten how much she loved cake.

  And handsome men.

  Tony had shaved, gotten a haircut, and shown up in a navy suit, white shirt, and black tie that had made her mouth go dry. Everyday Tony was sexy, but dolled-up Tony was lethal.

  And that he was here for her was helping her forget she had the goat of fertility in her purse.

  “Pepper, I haven’t met your boyfriend yet.” Aunt Lavender, mother of the boyfriend-stealer, stopped at their table. She was a foot taller than Gran, though her hairstyle was the same. Not quite as white, but just as tightly curled. And Pepper was eighty percent certain Aunt Lavender wasn’t consciously checking Tony out for one of her other daughters, though she was definitely giving him the once-over. “Is it finally your turn?”

  “Gran used to ask me that all the time,” she replied, “until I asked her the same at a funeral.”

  Tony coughed into his fist.

  She put a possessive hand on his thigh. His hot, hard thigh. “This is Tony. Tony, my aunt Lavender.”

  He held out a hand. “Pleasure, ma’am. I’m leaving with Pepper tonight.”

  Aunt Lavender’s handshake visibly stumbled. “Oh, my goodness, you’re a funny one, aren’t you? Whoops, Blossom needs something. Nice meeting you, Tony.”

  She tripped away, and Pepper smiled at him. “That wasn’t subtle at all.”

  “Subtle is for the birds. Your aunts all named after flowers?”

  “Aunt Lavender’s girls are all named after flowers. Or flower parts. My mom and aunts are named for shades of purple.”

  “So much is beginning to make sense.”

  She squeezed his thigh again, mostly because she could. “Shush.”

  Nat slipped to her side, TJ resting his adorable little head on a burp rag on her shoulder, Noah tagging along, probably looking for another Kiss. “Your family does not do normal weddings, do they?”

  Pepper shook her head and forced a smile. “Never.”

  “Have you heard from anyone about Tarra?”

  “Update fifteen minutes ago said she and Jack were finally talking, but Rosemary didn’t think it looked good.”

  Gran plopped down at the table with them. “Where’s the goat?”

  Pepper’s shoulders hitched up to her ears.

  “Is this the goat of fertility?” Nat said. “Why haven’t I seen this goat yet?”

  Pepper eyed the sweet little bundle on her shoulder. “You didn’t need it.”

  “Goat of fertility?” Tony repeated. A muscle ticked in his jaw, his face blanched, and his distinct lack of a smile made her wonder if she were looking in a mirror, or if he were truly opposed to a goat of fertility.

  “It’s a blow-up goat,” Nat supplied. “Or so I hear. I haven’t actually seen it, but I heard Tarra got it at—oh. Oh no. Tell me they didn’t—”

  “Who’s got the goat?” Gran demanded again. “I need to make sure it doesn’t do something we’re all going to regret.”

  “I took it away from her,” Margie said. She, too, plopped down at the table. God bless her.

  “No, you didn’t,” Rika said, also invading their party. “She gave it to Pepper after—mmph.”

  While Margie tried to suffocate the more disposable of the twins, dozens and dozens of eyeballs swiveled her way.

  Or possibly only three or four sets of eyeballs, but it felt like a dozen.

  “What does Pepper need with the goat?” Gran asked. “Little early for that, even for my tastes.”

  Tony shifted away.

  “The goat’s protecting her from having anyone steal her date tonight,” Rika lied around Margie’s mouth. “Its powers have grown.”

  Didn’t have to be a mind reader to know what Tony was thinking.

  They’re batshit crazy.

  “What if you break up?” Gran asked. “There are six more girls after you. What if they break up and curse the goat? Where will the family’s fertility come from then?”

  “The same place fertility actually comes from,” Margie said. “This is why you get kicked out of your homes.”

  Pepper stilled. “Margie—”

  Margie swung around. “I’m not a robot, and neither are you, and this whole ridiculous goat baloney has gone far enough. We don’t need babies and husbands to complete us, and the patriarchal bullshit surrounding the institution of marriage makes me ill.”

  Her breath caught. Did Margie have issues too? Did she really not want children because she didn’t want children, or did she know she couldn’t have them either?

  “Hey, music man,” Margie yelled. “Light it up. We need to celebrate our sister’s freedom.”

  The first strains of Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On” filled the air. A hand touched her back. Pepper jerked in her chair and found Tony behind her, wary and unamused.

  He extended his hand, palm up. “Care for a dance?”

  It was just a hand, but it looked like so much more. Touching him, letting him close, after he’d just heard she was packing a goat of fertility, was too much. Too much pressure. Too many expectations. Too many assumptions.

  She didn’t want to be here anymore.

  She didn’t want Tarra’s heart to be broken. She didn’t want to be surrounded by family. She didn’t want her family to know she’d failed. More, she couldn’t turn Tony down.

  He’d come to this canceled wedding, stayed, met her entire family, aunts, cousins, and he was staying to ask her to dance.

  To
help her escape. To be her rock. To be the first man not to leave her and go on to marry the next woman he dated after her.

  If she took his hand, she wasn’t sure she could hold in the tears anymore.

  She’d never be able to pretend she was fine again.

  * * *

  Both of Tony’s parents had remarried within two years of the divorce—Dad to the woman he’d been seeing on the side for eight of his ten-year marriage to Mom and the mother of his other children, Mom to a nice man from church who didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, didn’t gamble, and didn’t cheat. His first wife had died in a car accident, and he’d been raising his son and daughter by himself.

  He’d been faithful, he’d treated Tony and his older sisters the same as his own children, and Mom had seemed content enough to pop out one more kid. Until he passed away five years ago, he’d reached out to check on Tony every few weeks, see if he needed anything or if he was free to get together for coffee and solve all the world’s problems.

  When Tony had gotten married, he’d wanted to follow his stepfather’s example of the kind of husband he wanted to be. Dependable. Trustworthy. Faithful.

  He was determined to do better than the rest of his family had. To marry one woman, have children with her and her alone, and love her until the day he died.

  He’d had it, too.

  A wife he adored.

  A dog they walked together every night.

  A baby on the way.

  Until that awful moment in the maternity ward when all of his hopes and dreams and beliefs had shattered, spraying shards of glass over his entire life.

  Now here he was, pretending to date another woman, a woman with an insane family with horrible traditions, who needed a friend. A woman who had too much pride to admit she needed a friend. He’d never seen a smile so determined to be happy when it obviously wasn’t, and he couldn’t help wondering if it was something more than the stress of her sister’s canceled wedding.

  He should’ve asked her if she wanted some cake at his place instead of having seconds of cake here. Gotten both of them out of here ten minutes ago.

  Hell, he could’ve snuck away two minutes ago, as soon as Natalie had said goat of fertility.

  A week ago, he would’ve.

  But he couldn’t abandon Pepper.

  No matter how much his chest hurt and his pride stung and his stomach burned.

  She blinked quickly, then settled her chilled fingers in his.

  He wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her to him on the dance floor before she could retreat. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder, and he tucked their hands over his heart while they shifted into an easy sway to the music. Who put bridesmaids in sleeveless dresses in February? She was freezing.

  Gorgeous—that dress had been giving him ideas all evening—but still so cold.

  Her breath heaved out irregularly, and he pulled her tighter.

  She had secrets. He’d seen too many emotions he couldn’t explain flash across her face today. Whatever those secrets were, she was keeping them from her family too.

  Was she seeing someone—a professional—about her dating history? Had a shrink recommended she not date for a while, and she was too proud to tell her grandmother? Or was Pepper having problems with her equipment working?

  Was that even an issue for women?

  Did she want to get married? Have kids? Did she want that goat?

  He could picture her with a family as easily as he used to picture a family for himself, and his heart squeezed tight. She had three sisters and a brother with families of their own, and she worked in this crazy love-obsessed town. Her grandmother probably wasn’t the only one who had introduced her to men in the last few months.

  “You okay?” he murmured.

  “You’re very warm,” she replied quietly.

  Four of her sisters were watching them as they all moved around the dance floor. Margie—the one with the glasses, the smart one, Pepper’s defender, stood to the side of the dance floor, not even trying to be subtle about sending him a hurt her and die message.

  He swallowed a smile. It wasn’t funny—Pepper’s sisters threatening him, her grandmother being utterly insane—but if he didn’t laugh at the insanity of all of this, he’d toss her over his shoulder and march them both the hell out of here.

  And then her whole family would wonder if that stupid goat of fertility was working.

  He snorted softly to himself.

  No fucking way he should’ve been within spitting distance of a goat of fertility.

  Who believed in that bullshit anyway? Pepper was bright. He’d thought her family would be the same. CJ seemed decent. Cinna was mildly annoying, but she was quick-witted and funny. And Gran—yeah, Gran was a special case.

  A privilege that came with age.

  She shifted against him, and he could feel the tension leave her body. She slipped her free arm around his waist. “Thank you for being here today. I had no idea it would go down like this.”

  Was she kidding? If he hadn’t been here, if he’d let her go Monday like she suggested instead of coming up with a lame-ass excuse to keep her around longer, this whole goat mess that had upset her even more than the canceled wedding wouldn’t have happened.

  Or maybe they would’ve found something different. If they had a blow-up goat of fertility, they probably had something equally insane like a blow-up camel of commitment. Or one of her sisters would’ve found her a last-minute date, or they’d do a rain dance for men.

  She lifted her head, eyes tired, her face mere inches from his. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but that’s not a pretty smile.”

  No, it wasn’t.

  But she didn’t need to know that.

  She needed to know he was here for her.

  Today.

  That he was here for her today. As promised.

  He leaned into her and touched his lips to hers. Nothing chaste about his thoughts or where he wanted to put his hands—not because he wanted to get laid, not because he was sexually deprived and would’ve taken any woman, but because Pepper was that special combination of hot-as-hell, too-good-for-him, and needed-him-anyway.

  There wasn’t a man on earth good enough for her.

  Her arms tightened around his ribs, her fingers dancing across his back while she tilted her mouth to his and turned a soft kiss into a third-date, come-back-to-my-place suggestion. Her lips were hot satin, her mouth heaven, her touch irresistible.

  He wanted to go back to her place. Kiss her without wolf whistles and cheers in the background. Unwrap her, savor her, slide into her.

  Not screw it up like he had on Monday. Lose himself. Push her to lose herself. Let instinct take over. Forget the world.

  Her lips left his, but the taste of her, the imprint of her lingered.

  “Thank you,” she whispered before pulling back with a shy drop of her gaze.

  No, thank you.

  “How long do we have to stay?” he murmured into her hair.

  “Not much longer. I think most of the guests left are just family now, and we don’t need to entertain them.”

  He squeezed his eyes and his jaw shut.

  This was supposed to be pretend. A trade-off with his too-perfect neighbor to get his pizza place up and running with a solid local customer base.

  But he had an overwhelming need to take care of her for real.

  * * *

  When Pepper left Tarra’s non-wedding, her date was still at her side.

  Holding her hand, in fact, after insisting her matching wrap for her dress was ridiculous and that she needed to use his coat instead.

  It smelled like him—spicy and warm and male—and she was rapidly falling under a spell of almost believing this was real.

  At her car, she tried to give him the coat back.

  “Keep it.”

  Stubborn man. “I have a coat of my own at home.”

  “Which is right next door to my house, so I can get this easi
ly enough tomorrow.”

  The stars glittered overhead, diamonds in the abyss, but the real gem was right in front of her. “Come back to my place?” she said quietly.

  He was going to decline. She could see it in the way he glanced to the side, the uncertain hand he ran through his neatly trimmed hair.

  “Please?” she added.

  His dark gaze slid back to her, deep and wary and searching. He’d been hurt. By his ex-wife, by his family, by someone. Life had disappointed him. Robbed him of something irreplaceable.

  She didn’t know what, but she felt it. Felt it in the tension of the invisible string pulling her closer to him, in the imaginary monster claws trying to keep them apart.

  He dipped his head in a single nod. “Sure.”

  Wings sprouted in her heart. Before she could think better of it, she pushed up on her tiptoes to brush a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

  His arms came around her, and once more, she found herself in the safe cocoon of his embrace. Warm. Safe. Loved.

  Loved? No. Not love-loved. Affectioned? Friended? Just—he was there.

  For her.

  Not because he owed her anything. Not because he was related to her.

  Simply because he wanted to be.

  Such a little thing.

  But tonight, it was everything.

  * * *

  The last time Tony had walked a dog, he hadn’t known his marriage was already over. Tabitha had been almost nine months along. He’d thought she’d been miserable and cranky because she’d been as big as a whale, and the late November weather had been crazy warm, which made it impossible for her to get comfortable. She was too warm or too cold, wearing too much clothing or too little.

  Turned out her problem was him. Or rather, who he wasn’t.

  Taking a stroll with Pepper and Sadie and George wasn’t the same, and he pushed away the ugly memories in favor of enjoying what he could of subfreezing temperatures and a dog who thought his leg made a good girlfriend.

  “Knock it off, George,” Pepper said sternly after the third time they had to stop so Tony could disentangle the horny pup. They’d also stopped six times for text message updates about the post-non-wedding drama. Her family was tight. “This isn’t how we earn treats.”