Spiced Page 28
She lifted her head off his chest and looked up at him. “Care to share?”
“I was just wondering if you’d order pizza for your bachelorette party.”
She burst out laughing. “You’re thinking about pizza? Now?”
“One of my two favorite things in the world.” He cupped her head and bent his to touch her lips. “Right after you.”
Epilogue
There was nothing like a cloudless summer Saturday at the softball diamonds in Bliss. Especially when it came with pizza, Pepper, and their oldest in the championship game.
Erica might not have had his or Pepper’s genes, but she still hit like her mother. “C’mon, E! You got this,” he called through the fence separating the field from the stands.
Pepper was in the dugout, chewing her nails.
Happened when they were down by one at the bottom of the seventh inning, with two outs and runners on first and second.
“Go, E!” four-year-old Chloe yelled at her big sister.
“BaaaEEEE!” echoed two-year-old Bria from Tony’s hip.
Today’s game might’ve been between two teams full of seven- and eight-year-olds, but the stands were still packed. Probably because every last one of the girls’ aunts and uncles and grandparents had come out—on both sides of the family—along with Pepper’s closest friends.
Including the one responsible not just for Pepperoni Tony’s Bliss location, but also for Pepper and Tony having to buy a bigger house last Christmas.
When Lindsey Truitt had called and said her nonprofit foundation had been contacted by a woman dying of cancer who didn’t want her daughters going to the state, he and Pepper hadn’t even had to talk about it before they’d hopped in her car and driven out past Willow Glen to meet the family.
They hadn’t been actively pursuing adoption—they’d been making the most of their time as a couple the last year and a half before that—but fate happened sometimes.
The girls’ mom had passed away just after the new year, which had gutted him and Pepper more than the younger two daughters they inherited. Erica—as the oldest—remembered her mom more.
But she was coming out of her shell and loving the hell out of having so many doting aunts and uncles. She also got special pizza time with Tony a few times a week—especially during the summer—and dress time with Pepper a few other times a week.
And he and Pepper were learning the real meaning of balance.
“I wouldn’t want to be Dan right now,” Lindsey Truitt said beside him.
Tony glanced at Erica’s fiery eyes and the determined set to her jaw as she stood at the plate and stared down Dan Gregory, Max’s brother and acting league pitcher for the girls’ game today, and he grinned. “And if she’s like this at seven…”
“God help you all,” Lindsey replied.
Will stepped up beside her with Stella, their one-year-old. She was happily sitting in his arms, playing with his baseball cap. “My sister was like that at seven,” he offered.
“As I said, god help them all,” Lindsey repeated with a smile.
Dan tossed a soft lob at Erica.
Tony held his breath. His heart might’ve even paused. Erica drew the bat around, and—
Cling!
Pepper jumped in the dugout. “Run! Run, E, run!”
The ball bounced up the center of the diamond, sending Dan scuttling out of the way while the other team’s shortstop and second baseman scrambled too slowly to nab it before it drifted into the outfield.
The crowd was on its feet, cheering and yelling as Erica pounded her little legs on her way to first base.
“Hits like her mother,” CJ said on Tony’s other side. He rubbed the back of his head while he held onto TJ, whose real name was still a mystery. “Don’t ever let her get her hands on a tailpipe.”
The runner coming from second rounded third to whoops and hollers. Chloe was shrieking. Bria stared at Tony with big round eyes, obviously debating if she wanted to cry or join in the fun.
Or possibly she was filling her diaper.
Potty training would be fun with this one.
In the outfield, a blond little girl grabbed the ball and tossed it at the first baseman while the third base coach waved on the adorable little pixie who’d been on first. “Run! RUN!”
And there was Erica.
Running like her little life depended on it, legs pumping, arms too, rounding second while the ball rolled to a stop at the back of the dirt between first and second bases, the throw not nearly strong enough to make it halfway to the pitcher or first baseman.
“Go, Erica!” Tony called.
“Go, E! RUN!” Chloe was jumping now, hanging on to the chain-link fence while her sister approached third. Sadie, who’d come to the ball field with them, huddled behind Tony’s legs on her leash. “Run to the house! RUN TO THE HOUSE!”
The third base coach told her to stop.
She ignored him.
Tony grinned and pumped a fist in the air. “That’s my girl!”
Pepper was jumping and cheering at home plate, hugging the two girls who’d already scored while the other team scrambled for the ball again and lobbed it at the catcher.
Too late.
Because Erica was crossing home, diving into Pepper’s arms, who swooped her up and swung her around and kissed her oversized baseball cap.
Pepper met his eyes, and that wide smile, so full of pure joy and happiness, made something catch in his throat.
This.
His wife. His girls. His cat. His dog, who still thought she was a rabbit, and who still spooked his cat sometimes.
If he had his life to do over, he wouldn’t change a damn thing. He’d take every heartbreak of his own, and he’d take on Pepper’s and the girls’ too, if he could have this.
Today.
Every bit of pain and turmoil had been worth it, because his life had brought this.
He and Chloe and Bria trotted onto the field, trailed by the bunny-hopping Sadie, to Pepper and Erica and the rest of the team. He traded his youngest for his oldest to swing her up in a giant bear hug. “You, little lady, are amazing,” he told her.
She squeezed him back with all the strength in her little arms. “I hit a home run, Dad!”
“You sure did. You’re a beast with that bat.”
Family crushed around them, hugging and cheering and squealing.
He set Erica down and slipped an arm around Pepper. “Nice job, Coach.”
She went up on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek, her sweet scent tickling his nose. “You too, Dad.”
He grinned, she smiled back, and Chloe dove into both of their knees. “Pizza time!”
Pizza. And family. And love.
Everything he’d ever wanted. Nothing he’d expected.
And it was all perfect.
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THE END
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Have you met the sexy military heroes of the Officers’ Ex-Wives Club series? Keep reading for a sneak peek! For news and updates from Jamie Farrell, subscribe to Jamie’s VIP Reader newsletter HERE!
The Misfit Brides Series:
Blissed (CJ and Natalie)
Matched (Will and Lindsey)
Smittened (Mikey and Dahlia)
Sugared (Josh and Kimmie)
Merried (Max and Merry)
Spiced (Tony and Pepper)
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The Officers’ Ex-Wives Club Series:
Her Rebel Heart (Lance and Kaci)
Southern Fried Blues (Jackson and Anna Grace)
Moonshine & Magnolias (Zack and Shelby)
* * *
From Her Rebel Heart…
* * *
Lance took off at a jog, senses alert for pumpkins or other flying objects. He could make out a glow in the distance—a flashlight? Car lights?—but in the dark, he couldn’t judge how far off it was. Yelling might make them stop.
Or it might tell the enemy where he was.
Probably stupid redn
ecks out joy-flinging. “Hey!” he yelled. “Who’s there?”
Pumpkins didn’t just fall from the sky.
Well, they could. But usually it would’ve been his crew dropping them off the ramp of his C-130, and much as the guys would’ve loved that, they still only dropped cargo, official or unofficial, when approved by the proper figures, and only under controlled circumstances.
There weren’t any missions flying on base tonight. Aero Club wasn’t running either. And they weren’t under any of the normal patterns for the closest local airport.
“Put the pumpkins down,” Lance called into the darkness while he continued to jog toward the dim light. “There are kids back here.”
“Oh, no. Y’all got kids over there? They’re not hurt, are they? We didn’t mean to hurt ’em. I just got really bad aim, and I swear I thought I was facing the other direction, and—”
His heart slammed to a stop and his groin twitched. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
He knew that voice.
Those sassy tones had been haunting him for hours.
“Oh, no,” she said again.
For the second time in less than twelve hours, Lance assumed battle stance while he stared down at the pint-sized blonde and her fantastic tits, ignoring the tingling in his chest and the hum of adrenaline spicing his blood.
“Oh, no, you got caught?” he suggested.
In a wink, she put the sass back in sassy. “Hush your tongue. Does your momma know you talk like that?”
Any other place, any other time, with any other woman, he might’ve offered an I’m sorry. For running away that night. For kissing her in the first place.
But this woman?
This woman made him crazy. He’d talked to her for a grand total of ten minutes in his entire life, but it was enough to make his skin twitch and his muscles clench.
And to think he’d considered apologizing when he’d first recognized her this afternoon. “Does your momma know you’re operating a pumpkin chucker without a license? In the dark? And aiming at a fucking fire?”
“Lordy goodness, you’re fixin’ to get your tongue washed down with a bar of Ivory, aren’t you? And there’s no such thing as a pumpkin-chucker license. Though if there were, I’d get one long before you and your ragamuffin crew.”
Her eyes were large and dark tonight, and her chest rose and fell rapidly. Because she was afraid she’d gotten caught? Because she was afraid someone was hurt? Because she’d been running?
This woman running—dear God. His groin tightened.
That’d be a sight.
“Of the two of us,” Lance said, “I’m not the one with a second-place trophy. Nor am I the one flinging pumpkins in the dark.”
He couldn’t be sure, but it almost looked like she was blushing.
“Well, so long as no one was hurt—”
“Someone got hurt.”
That blush he’d thought he saw receded until her skin glowed paler than the moonlight. “S-someone’s hurt?”
“Mildred.” Lance couldn’t help himself. Baiting her was too much fun. “She’s dead.”
“I killed someone’s grandmother?” She punctuated her sentence with a squeak, and she swayed on her feet. “Have you tried CPR? Called 911? Are the cops on their way? The fire trucks? An ambulance? What are we doing just standing here? My momma was right. I should’ve given this all up after the pig incident, but I—why are you smiling?”
Was he smiling?
Well, damn.
He was.
He switched it to a scowl. “I’m gonna need to hear more about this pig incident.”
“Who’s Mildred?”
“Criminals first.”
…Excerpt from Her Rebel Heart by Jamie Farrell ©2017
Get Her Rebel Heart now!
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The Complete Jamie Farrell Book List
The Misfit Brides Series:
Blissed (CJ and Natalie)
Matched (Will and Lindsey)
Smittened (Mikey and Dahlia)
Sugared (Josh and Kimmie)
Merried (Max and Merry)
Spiced (Tony and Pepper)
The Officers’ Ex-Wives Club Series:
Her Rebel Heart (Lance and Kaci)
Southern Fried Blues (Jackson and Anna Grace)
Moonshine & Magnolias (Zack and Shelby)
Standalone Books
Mr. Good Enough (Trent and Maddie)
About the Author
Jamie Farrell is a bestselling author of feel-good contemporary romances. She believes love, laughter, and bacon are the most powerful forces in the universe. Her debut novel, Southern Fried Blues, was a finalist in the National Readers’ Choice Awards and the National Excellence in Romance Fiction Awards. Blissed, the first book in her Misfit Brides series, received a starred review in Publishers Weekly Magazine.
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A native Midwesterner, Jamie has lived in the South the majority of her adult life. When she’s not writing, she and her military hero husband are busy raising three hilariously unpredictable children.
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For news and updates on Jamie’s books, and for a glimpse into her sometimes zany personal life:
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Visit Jamie’s website at:
www.JamieFarrellBooks.com
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Copyright
SPICED
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Copyright © 2018 by Jamie Farrell
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Cover Design by Sweet ‘n Spicy Designs
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http://www.JamieFarrellBooks.com