Spiced Read online

  And Tony didn’t want marriage.

  Even if he did, he didn’t love her. She’d been his rebound. In a lot of ways, he’d been her rebound. Was she stronger and better for it? She didn’t know.

  But it would’ve ended eventually. Her relationships always did.

  Might as well be over now.

  The whole family knew the entire story. Margie had come and stayed with her this weekend too, strong and clinical and unemotional as only Margie could be.

  I was worried was the extent of Margie’s chastisement. And it’s not weak to need help from time to time.

  Felt good to be back at work, and she blamed her still mildly tender stomach for not feeling the usual enthusiasm for tackling the day.

  Even though she knew better.

  She was closing up shop after doing what she did best—solving problems, selling dresses, and making other women’s dreams come true—when she caught sight of someone leaning against the wall beside the back door.

  Her traitorous heart had leapt—maybe it was Tony?—but of course, it wasn’t.

  They’d already said all they needed to say.

  Even if she hadn’t wanted to let him go. She hadn’t been ready. She understood why he’d flipped out. She didn’t even blame him.

  Not really.

  Even if her heart hurt more than any other part of her had in the last week. Or possibly ever.

  “Tarra?” she said to her sister.

  “Men are assholes. Let’s go get ice cream.”

  “And cupcakes?”

  “All the cupcakes.”

  It was the best plan she’d heard in days.

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, instead of sitting at Kimmie Cakes or at Dahlia’s ice-cream shop next door, Pepper and Tarra were surrounded by friends and family at Suckers, CJ’s bar. They’d overtaken the entire floor, except for the bar area, and were loaded down with cupcakes and ice cream—of course—along with those cheese fries that Pepper hadn’t had in entirely too long.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us,” Nat said. She’d passed baby TJ off to Will, who was sitting beside Mikey and singing softly to both babies. Lindsey and Kimmie both looked ready to pop, despite neither of them being due for at least another few weeks, though in Kimmie’s case it was easy to blame the twins. Dahlia was glowing, Merry was enjoying her own personal cheese plate, and Max, CJ, and Josh were pretending they weren’t listening in.

  “If I’d told you I was using sperm donors to try to get pregnant on my own, what would you have done?”

  “I—” Nat started.

  “Liar,” Tarra said easily over an Earl Gray cupcake. Which was something only Tarra could enjoy, pregnant or not.

  “Okay, fine. You haven’t dated all of the single sons on The Aisle yet.” Nat humphed. “I know how hard single parenting can be, okay?”

  “I wouldn’t have been alone.” Pepper squeezed Tarra’s hand. “You won’t be either. You know that, right?”

  “Oh, I’ll happily do this alone,” Tarra replied. “As soon as I’m well and truly annulled from my Sin City misadventure. That was years ago, by the way. Freaking fake Vegas attorney. I hope he dies of dysentery.”

  “I was thinking scorpion bite,” Cinna called from behind the bar.

  “Desert exposure,” Dahlia said.

  “I had a dream my mother was a scorpion once.” Kimmie licked the frosting off her cupcake while murmurs of yep, and I believe it went through the room. Josh stopped pretending he wasn’t eavesdropping to scan the lot of them suspiciously.

  Not because of his semi-awkward relationship with Kimmie’s mother, Pepper suspected, but because usually Kimmie only talked about her dreams when she was nervous, and he wanted to know who was making her uncomfortable.

  Josh might’ve fallen on the overprotective side.

  Which was utterly perfect for Kimmie, who was munching on her cupcake without a seeming care in the world, apparently happy to contribute to the conversation without any underlying meanings or stress this time.

  Cinna set a glass of red in front of Pepper. “It’s on CJ.”

  “I wish we could get rid of her as easily as we can get rid of Tony,” Nat muttered.

  “You don’t need to get rid of Tony.” Why did it freaking feel like her heart was being ripped out of her chest when she said that? It was like finding out she couldn’t have babies all over again. “It wasn’t ever real,” she added, which hurt not just her heart, but also her very marrow. “I asked him to be my date to Tarra’s wedding to get Gran off my back because I was…preoccupied. He did everything he was supposed to and more. We both knew it wouldn’t last.”

  It was like someone was using her heart as a punching bag.

  And that someone was her.

  God, she missed him. Her friends were being amazing and supportive and everything friends were supposed to be, but they didn’t get it.

  Not like Tony did. Yet he’d still accused her of being pregnant.

  “Doesn’t mean you didn’t get attached,” Dahlia said. “I was using Mikey for some extra cash, and look how that turned out.”

  “And I was using Josh to make my mother mad,” Kimmie chimed in with a grin.

  “I was using CJ for the same,” Nat lied.

  “I was using Max for sex,” Merry offered.

  Lindsey was the only one who stayed quiet. In fact, she was the only one who hadn’t uttered a word all evening.

  “No opinions?” Pepper asked her.

  “She’s got ’em.” Will looked up from the babies and eyed his wife. “But she won’t tell me either. Says she still has to keep some secrets from her lawyering days.”

  “You two have no secrets,” Nat said.

  “Didn’t say she was successfully keeping it a secret from me. Said she wouldn’t tell me. There’s a difference.”

  “So?” Nat prompted.

  Pepper’s breath hitched. Lindsey had become Bliss’s unofficial matchmaker—supposedly she was psychic with it, which Pepper didn’t believe, but of everyone in this room, she knew Tony the best. She probably knew more of Tony’s secrets than Pepper did.

  But Lindsey simply shrugged. “If Pepper wants to know my opinion, she’ll ask me herself.”

  It didn’t matter what Lindsey thought she saw or didn’t see. Neither she nor Tony was in a place to commit to a serious relationship. He wasn’t over what his ex-wife had done to him, and she didn’t know if she’d ever get over not being able to have babies. “Have you seen him?” she asked.

  Lindsey shook her head.

  “I did,” Max offered.

  He didn’t say how Tony was doing.

  He didn’t have to. Because she knew.

  In her heart, she just knew.

  “Take care of him,” Pepper said.

  She reached for her wine with one hand and a fresh bowl of triple chocolate something ice cream that might’ve been called chocolate orgasm, and that was the last she talked about Tony for the night.

  Because saying any more would’ve been like ripping the bandage off over and over and over again.

  21

  Sales were holding steady, Tony had been able to give his staff more hours, and he could legitimately relax and kick back if he wanted to.

  Instead, he was searching real estate. Up near Chicago. Over in Indianapolis. Maybe Milwaukee. Hell, there wasn’t anything honestly stopping him from moving to Canada.

  If he sold his places both here and in Willow Glen, he could get out. Make a fresh start.

  Forget these last few years. Put some distance between himself and family expectations.

  He’d tried to hit on a customer yesterday. Pretend everything was great. Put on that show.

  He’d gotten halfway through, “How’s that pizza?” and choked.

  Hadn’t even gotten close to a pickup line, lame or otherwise.

  “Hey, Tony, got somebody up front asking for you,” one of his servers called through the office door.

  He di
dn’t want somebody.

  He wanted…

  He just wanted.

  Things he couldn’t have.

  Out front, he found Bella and Francie waiting for him at the counter.

  More family. More questions. More bullshit. “Lunch?” he asked.

  “Nope, an ass-kicking,” Bella replied cheerfully. “But we’ll take some pizza with it.”

  He snapped his fingers at one of the passing servers. “Table for two. Lunch is on the house.”

  “Mom hated Tabitha,” Francie announced.

  He’d had a knot between his shoulder blades for almost a week now, and his sister wasn’t helping.

  “She really did,” Bella agreed. “Said she wasn’t good enough for you. And if she’d tell me that, you know it was bad.”

  “I’m going back to work.”

  “You’re not like our brothers, Tony.” Francie grabbed his arm before he could walk away. “You could make it. We want you to make it. But we don’t know how to help.”

  “I might.”

  The new voice put Tony’s teeth on edge.

  He hadn’t heard her since she’d inadvertently dropped a bombshell while talking to one of her sisters on the phone in Pepper’s backyard.

  “This is my fault.” Cinna looked at Francie and Bella, then back to Tony. “Can I have just a minute? Alone?”

  “Don’t let us stop you,” Francie said so quickly Tony suspected a setup.

  Bella, too, angled back. “We’ll just get a seat and wait.”

  Though he would’ve rather pried his toenails out with rusty pliers, Tony gestured Cinna out to the street.

  She didn’t get to go into his office.

  Foot traffic was low—it almost always was on his street, though The Aisle was another story as the weather was slowly warming toward spring.

  “She’s not pregnant,” Cinna said. “And even if she was, if you were half a man, you would’ve been there to be that baby’s father anyway.”

  He couldn’t decide if his teeth were about to crack because she was a brat, or because she should’ve been right.

  But he knew what that waver in his heart was.

  Pain.

  Pure, raw pain.

  He’d accused Pepper of being pregnant—of being the one thing she’d wanted badly enough to try to do it on her own, the one thing she’d failed at. He’d thrown it in her face.

  Told himself he was the wronged party. That she should’ve been honest with him about trying to get pregnant.

  When he should’ve manned up and trusted her instead of hiding behind his past to keep himself from getting hurt.

  “I’m sorry I butted in,” Cinna said. “I’m sorry she’s not pregnant. I’m sorry I thought she’d do that to you. But mostly I’m sorry that neither one of you will get over yourselves long enough to admit how much you care. Because Pepper might look strong. She might act like she has it all together. But those are the people you have to worry about most. And I thought, of all her boyfriends, you might have finally gotten it.”

  He should’ve.

  Look what he’d done before he met Pepper. He’d become a one-date wonder. Expanded his booming business. Moved into a house he’d told everyone he was going to renovate and flip.

  Pretended everything was fine when nothing was right.

  Nothing except his rescue cat, who was just as broken on the outside as he felt on the inside.

  He didn’t look at Cinna.

  Didn’t step back into his restaurant.

  Instead, he turned and walked away.

  Somewhere.

  Anywhere.

  He wasn’t okay. He wasn’t all right. He might never be.

  But he didn’t want to be alone. He shouldn’t have had to be alone.

  Not anymore.

  * * *

  Pepper had hit the sugar and wine too hard too soon after being sick. This sucked. When she’d been a kid, she’d bounced back from the flu in a matter of days. As a grown-up, a stupid stomach bug had taken her down for almost a week.

  Her doctor said it was normal.

  Her doctor had also confirmed that this was a lingering stomach bug, completely normal, and not morning sickness.

  She left work early and headed home. Tarra had stayed the night and had no plans for leaving anytime soon, which suited Pepper fine. She liked the company.

  Especially Tarra’s company right now.

  The two of them made an odd couple—Tarra on the path to unwanted single motherhood, Pepper mourning her own chances to ever make it happen—but with Tarra’s job being mobile, she was talking about moving in for a few months.

  While she waited for her own private detective to find her long-lost Vegas husband so they could get the annulment they should’ve had years ago.

  But Tarra wasn’t there when she got home. She let Sadie out—poor Sadie, who seemed to actually be missing George, if that were possible—and set a kettle on to make herself a pot of tea.

  She was flipping through the teas Tarra had brought with her when she heard Sadie erupt in barking outside, followed by a yowl of sheer terror.

  Without thinking, she flew out the back door. “Sadie! Sadie, no, puppy. Lucky, get back. Back!” She snagged Sadie, narrowly missing getting clawed by Lucky, who darted on her bad leg through a teeny opening in the chain-link fence and toward Tony’s house, where the back door was also flying open.

  She closed her eyes and buried her nose in her dog’s wiry fur. “Leave the kitty alone, Sadie,” she whispered.

  She hustled back inside, because she knew what she’d see if she didn’t.

  Tony.

  Accusing her of letting her dog terrorize his cat once more.

  Accusing her of keeping secrets.

  Reminding her of her very worst failures in life. Of all the things she’d never have.

  Or worse, Tony being a reasonable man who still didn’t want her. Who might’ve already found a woman to move on with.

  The door shut with a definitive click behind her. She inspected Sadie for cuts or scratches while the pup tried to lick her nose, which was when she realized her eyes were leaking.

  She got herself back under control, poured a cup of green tea, and carried it to the living room. Afternoon talk shows were on, and Tarra’s baby would need a blanket, so she grabbed her knitting needles and the knotted mess of yellow yarn and once again set about tackling this cast-on, cast-off, purl-this, purl-that stuff while people danced and laughed with Ellen DeGeneres.

  Sadie curled up at her feet, and for all of fifteen minutes, life went on.

  Until someone knocked at the door.

  Sadie leapt up and charged it in full fast-bunny-hop mode, as though she’d suddenly become a guard dog, which either meant Gran was back, unannounced, or…

  Or something worse.

  She set her knitting aside and forced herself to walk on unsteady legs to the door.

  And when she swung it open to find her favorite pizza-delivery guy standing on the other side of her screen door, not with pizza, but with a bouquet of flowers in hand and guarded terror in his eyes, her knees almost buckled.

  “Hi,” he said before she could find her words. “I’m Tony. I moved in a few months ago, and I just fucked up the best relationship I’ve ever had with the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. She told me once that I’d fall in love and marry the next woman I dated after her, so I was wondering…are you free tonight?”

  Yep, her knees were going to go. So were the tears. Definitely her heart.

  Of everything he could’ve said, of everything he could’ve done, he’d done this.

  The one thing no other man could ever offer her.

  “Tony,” she whispered.

  “I was wrong. I’ll be wrong again. Probably all the time. But I want you. Every day. I want to teach my cat to get along with your dog. I want to let your grandmother goose me on the holidays, just because it’ll make her happy. I want—Pepper, I just want you. You’re the patch holding my heart to
gether, and I—I love you.”

  “I’m not pregnant,” she forced out.

  “Even if you were, even if you had been when we met, I’d still want you both. But I don’t need babies. Pepper, I just need you.”

  Those eyes. Those dark, desperate, terrified eyes. The flowers were wobbling in his hands, he hadn’t shaved in days, and he wasn’t in a coat.

  No, he was standing there, baring his soul, asking her to be his.

  Forever.

  She flung the door open and almost took his nose off, then squished the flowers between them as she grabbed on to him and hugged him for dear life. “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much. You’re everything I never knew I was missing and everything I’ve ever needed.”

  He finally got his arms untangled and wrapped her tight. “I’m a mess,” he said into her shoulder.

  “Oh, god, Tony. We both are.”

  That earned her a reluctant chuckle. “I’m sorry, Pepper. I’m so sorry. For everything that’s my fault and everything that’s not.”

  “I’m sorry too,” she whispered. “I should’ve told you.”

  He was holding her and stroking her hair and pressing his lips to her forehead, almost shaking in her arms, and for the first time in her life, she was glad she wasn’t perfect.

  “You would’ve,” he said. “In your own time, you would’ve.”

  “You have too much faith in me.”

  “I love you.”

  Three simple words.

  And she knew just how much those words cost him.

  He pulled her tighter. “Pepper, I mean it. I’m going to fuck up again. Probably all the time. But I swear to you, I will never hurt you like that again. Just please—please promise you’ll always be mine.”

  “Tony, I already am.” She lifted her head, went up on tiptoe, and pressed her lips to his.

  And what started as a simple kiss rapidly turned into a heated mesh of mouths and tongues. The flowers landed somewhere on the porch. They somehow stumbled into the house, tripping over Sadie, touching and kissing and stroking and peeling their clothes off amidst whispers of I love you and forever and never go another day without you.

  And two hours later, as Pepper held on to the man she’d never let go again, a slow rumble started in his throat.