by Maya Banks
“What are you doing?” I ask, wondering what the hell is happening.
“I’m going to go ask your dad if I can marry you.”
He’s giving me that cocky grin with his deep dimples, and I melt. I once wanted to smack that look off his face, and now all I want to do is kiss it. He gets it. He understands what my family means to me.
“I love you,” I tell him again.
“I love you, too,” he says before getting out of the car and taking me with him.
EPILOGUE
Royce
Two years later
“What are you two in here doing?” I ask, seeing Pandora and our daughter, Lavender, playing.
“I’m teaching her how to throw a punch,” Pandora says, holding up her hand for Lav to hit.
“Hey, I’m the fighter in this family. I should be the one doing it.” I lean on the doorframe and cross my arms. The sight of the two of them together completes a piece of a puzzle I never knew I was building. We’ve talked about having another one, but Pandora says Penelope has enough for the whole family.
“Nah. I want her to be good at it.” Pandora winks at me, and I growl, getting on the floor with the two of them and lying on my back while Lavender crawls on me.
We kept my loft in the city for Pandora to work a few days a week. I do most of my consulting from home now, so I’m mobile. We have our house on “the compound” as we love to call it, and stay out there the rest of the time.
I stopped fighting after Lavender was born. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it, but having kids changed our perspective on things. Suddenly it wasn’t just me and Pandora fucking in bathrooms in the basement of dingy bars. Although we still manage to do that on date night. I wanted to give our little girl the world, and that included my time, too. Once I made the decision to step out of the ring, I never looked back. Getting in the ring was a good time, but it’s not a sport you can really work at long term, and I was ready for it to end.
But there’s one thing that hasn’t changed, and that’s my love for Pandora. If anything, it’s grown over the past two years to a level I can’t even comprehend. I never knew love could be like this, and every day it grows stronger. Pandora’s dad told me that it’s that way for him and her mom, too. I see it when they’re together, and that’s what I want for us.
“Are you all packed up?” I ask, sitting up to kiss Pandora.
“Yep. It’s nice having stuff at both places, though, so all we have to do is grab the essentials.”
I reach out and grab her breast, and she giggles. “What? Just the essentials, right?”
“You play your cards right, and we can have a babysitter tonight.”
“Your sister is having baby fever again,” I say, picking up Lav and taking her over to the changing table.
“I know. She says one more, and Ivan agrees. But I think that man would give her as many babies as her little body can carry.”
She comes up behind me and wraps her arms around my waist, resting her cheek on my shoulder.
“If we timed it out right, you could both be pregnant at the same time,” I say.
“Oh God! Can you imagine? Penelope would go nuts.”
I blow a raspberry on Lav’s belly and listen to her giggle. “Might not be so bad. She’s already a year old. Maybe we should have them close together.”
“Sounds like you’re the one who has baby fever,” she says, smacking my ass. “Are you and Penelope in cahoots?”
I hide my smile from her and try to shrug casually. I may have been talking to Penelope about cycles and when they would both be ovulating again. Ivan didn’t like the talk at first, but as soon as Penelope was talking about being fertile, he was right there with us.
“Royce Davenport, turn around and look at me,” Pandora demands.
I pick up Lav and hold her up beside my face. “Would we lie to you?”
Pandora bites her lip and shakes her head. “You’re not allowed to use her cuteness to get out of trouble. Come to Mama, little one.”
She takes Lavender, and then I scoop the both of them in my arms and walk toward the door.
“Tell you what, why don’t we let your parents watch little Lav tonight, and you and me have some alone time? You know, see what happens.”
Pandora rolls her eyes, but I know she’s thinking about it.
“I can’t say I don’t like it when you try to knock me up,” she says as I put her on her feet so she can grab her bag. I take it from her, and then take the baby, as Pandora locks up.
“Then just shut that pretty mouth of yours and let your man make things happen.”
“I think your dad is trying to give you a brother or sister,” Pandora says as she walks past us.
“I’m trying my best, baby girl,” I whisper to her, and she giggles at me.
EPILOGUE
Pandora
Five years later
“Oh my God, Pan, that guy is totally checking you out,” Penelope says from beside me.
I look up to see a guy at a bench in the park near us looking our way.
“Whatever,” I say, blowing it off. I’m in yoga pants and a tank top, with what I’m sure are at least three different kid stains.
“Seriously. He keeps looking over here,” she says, poking me in the ribs not so subtly.
“Dude,” I say, to get her to stop. “Maybe he’s checking you out.”
I look over to see the kids playing together in the grass and lie back on the blanket to soak in the sun.
“Don’t even play like that. Ivan is more than ten feet from me. If he hears you, he’ll come over here and murder everyone,” she says, looking around for him like she’s excited by the possibility. “Besides, I’m, like, eleven months pregnant with my fifth kid. I think Ivan might be the only man alive who finds me sexy.”
“Let’s hope so. If he found out someone else did, we’d all be in trouble.”
“I do love how possessive he can be.” She sighs dreamily, and I roll my eyes.
I can’t hate it, though. Possessive is one of my favorite features on my man. I lower my glasses and see Royce with our two little girls getting snow cones. His ass is looking way too good in those jeans today. Ivan is beside him, and he waves to Penelope, who blows him a kiss. God, I love her and how ridiculous she is sometimes.
“Oh shit. He’s coming over here. What do we do? Should we throw something at him?” Penelope is freaking out, and I want to laugh and cover her mouth at the same time.
“Excuse me, but do I know you?” the tall, thin guy asks, looking down at me.
“No,” I say, looking back to where Royce and Ivan are standing, but their backs are turned to us.
“They are not going to like this,” Penelope mumbles in a singsong voice.
“Are you sure, you look very familiar. Have you been to the art gallery on 7th?”
“Nope,” I say, sitting up now so the guy isn’t looming over me so much.
“It’s strange, because I own it, and I swear I’ve seen you at one of our exhibits.”
“You’ve mistaken me for someone else. My hus—”
“My name is Drake,” he says, interrupting me and kneeling down, holding out his hand.
Penelope leans past me and whispers to the stranger. “Look, Drake, you seem like a nice enough guy, so I’m going to save your life.” She looks to our guys and then back to him. “Those men are straight killers. You need to walk away slowly and never look back.”
He smiles like Penelope is being funny, but she pulls back and shakes her head. “Oh shit. Here we go.”
I turn to see Royce stomping over to us, the snow cones gripped in his hands so tight all of the ice is falling off them as he gets closer. He’s trying to hang on to them as the girls are hot on his h
eels reaching for them, and it’s a pretty funny sight.
“Are you talking to my wife?” He says the last word like I belong to him and it should be obvious to the world.
I want to laugh at how comical it is, but I know if I do I’ll only get him angrier. Nothing sets my Royce off like someone stepping between him and his ladies. That includes our daughters.
Royce hands the girls the snow cones, and Lavender complains that half of hers is on the ground, while Sam shrugs and drinks what’s left in the cup.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll get you another once I get rid of this asshole.” Royce looks back to Drake, who’s already standing up and backing away.
Just then Ivan walks up, and I bury my face in my hands, groaning.
“I tried to tell him,” Penelope says in a smug voice, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head.
Ivan doesn’t stop once he gets to us, though. Instead, he keeps stomping toward the guy. Drake’s eyes widen with fear, and he backs away. Ivan keeps going, then Drake turns and runs. Ivan ends up chasing the guy out of the park and out of sight.
“God, I love him,” Penelope sighs, watching Ivan walk back to her.
“Come with me,” Royce says, pulling me from the blanket and taking me with him to the snow cone vendor. “Should have brought you the first time.”
The girls sit down with their aunt and uncle and finish what little they have left of their icy treat.
“Don’t get all grumpy,” I tease, wrapping my arms around him and leaning close.
“I dropped my snow cone,” he complains, and he sounds like a little boy. It’s so adorable, I start laughing.
He growls and then turns, grabbing me up and squeezing my ass.
“You’re lucky you’re hot,” I say, kissing his lips.
“Yeah, well, I’m cursed that my wife is so damn hot. Can’t keep them off of you.”
“Well, I did wear my best yoga pants,” I say, and shrug.
“I told you your ass looked too good in them.”
“Give me my smile,” I say, and he does as I ask.
He beams at me, giving me that cocky-ass grin with dimples showing. I kiss each one before I kiss his lips, and he grinds against me.
“You get turned on when you get jealous,” I mumble against his lips.
“I get turned on when I’ve got you in my arms. And you damn well know it.”
“Maybe you should remind me,” I push.
I’m not disappointed when he throws me over his shoulder and tells my sister and Ivan to take the girls home. He’s got something he needs to take care of, and it has to do with my sassy mouth.
God, I love my man.
* * * * *
Keep reading for a special preview of
Temporary to Tempted
by Jessica Lemmon!
Andrea really regrets bribing a hot stranger to be her fake wedding date…especially when she finds out he’s her new boss!
Gage Fleming finished off his IPA and tipped the bottle’s neck at the bartender. “I’ll take the check when you have a second.”
Seattle had come out of a long winter and cool spring, and was now firmly entrenched in summer. The energy was different during the hot months. The skirts were shorter and the nights were longer, and for him, the workdays were longer, too. He hadn’t left his desk until well after seven thirty—hadn’t gotten here until well after eight thirty. Given the hellacious week he’d had at the office, it didn’t surprise him that he wasn’t as upbeat as usual.
“Sure thing.” Shelly was petite, wearing a ball cap with her ponytail sticking out of the back. Her lashes were thick, and her lips were shiny with gloss. Cute as she was, he didn’t plan on asking her out. Even though she was his type, from her shapely calves to her low-cut V-necked T-shirt with the bar’s gold-and-red emblem on it. Even though she’d been offering her smiles freely and borderline flirting back with him, Gage wasn’t feeling it.
His best buddy Flynn and Sabrina, his other best buddy turned Flynn’s girlfriend, had taken off a few minutes ago. Gage hung around at From Afar, finishing his beer after a long week and what felt like a longer workday.
He’d been friends with Flynn, Sabrina and Reid—who wasn’t in the country at the moment—since college. Sabrina being in the mix was nothing new. Her being in love with Flynn and vice versa: totally new.
Gage had said yes to the after-work beer, not thinking it’d be any different than any other hangout they’d had before. It had been different, though, since the couple couldn’t keep their hands or eyes on anything in the room but each other. But he couldn’t begrudge his friends. A few months back, Flynn and Sabrina had slipped from the friend zone to the in-zone. Flynn was the happiest he’d been in a long while.
“Here you go, sweetheart.” The cute blonde winked at him and moved away to greet another patron.
If he wasn’t mistaken, that lifting feeling in his chest was relief at his decision not to dance the dance with her. Flirting was easy—hell, second nature—to him. Asking her out wouldn’t be an issue. He had it down. He’d heard yes more times than no, and often heard “Yes!” shouted with exuberance later the same night in his bed.
Over the past few weeks, however, he’d noticed he was tired of the game. Going out on a few dates, a round or three of spectacular sex (or okay sex—but even okay sex was pretty damn good), and then finding his way out before things progressed to anything serious… If they got that far. Lately, he’d grown tired of the awkward parting in the middle of the night or the next morning. Tired of the walk of shame.
Thirty years old was too young to be this jaded.
You’re just tired after a long week. Don’t analyze it to death.
He leaned forward to pull his wallet from his back pocket, ready to pay and take his gloomy self home, when he noticed a stunning vision striding toward him. He froze, the scene unfolding in slow motion.
Strawberry blonde hair washed over slim shoulders in a waterfall of color, bright against the narrow black sheath dress draped over her slender form. Electric blue eyes flashed with determination. She was long-limbed, her walk confident, and her full pink mouth was set in a firm, unsmiling line. One eyebrow was arched and she homed in on him like he was the target and she was a missile.
With his next breath, his libido returned. Lust slammed into his solar plexus and dried out his mouth.
Which made no sense.
In those heels, in that dress and with no smile to speak of, it was obvious he was in the presence of a way-too-serious woman. He’d had a close call with a woman like this one in his past, and he’d since decided that cute, bubbly bartenders were more his style.
Even so. Intrigued and more than a bit curious, he shoved his wallet back into his pocket when it became clear that this striking woman was coming right for him.
This one, he’d dance with. If only to shake things up a bit.
He’d buy her a drink, turn on the Fleming charm and see what happened. It’d been a while since a woman had snagged this much of his attention. Whether it was the strawberry blonde’s determination or the set of her small shoulders, he couldn’t be sure, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off her. How could anyone look that damned delicate and at the same time like she ate nails for breakfast?
He didn’t know. But he was going to find out. Something told him that she’d be worth it, no matter the cost.
“Shelly, I’ll have another IPA after all,” he said to the bartender, and as the strawberry blonde placed a manicured hand on the back of the bar stool next to him, he smoothly added, “and whatever she’s having.”
“You got it.” Shelly dipped her chin at the strawberry blonde. “What’ll it be?”
Strawberry yanked her gaze from Gage, her expression almost shocked that the bartender was talking to her. “Um. Chardonnay.”
Shelly fetched their drinks and Gage turned to greet his guest, pul
ling the stool out for her to sit.
“No. Thanks,” she replied coolly, almost like the “thanks” part was an afterthought.
Instinct told him that she wasn’t as cool and calm as she pretended to be. If she was actually the man-eater she portrayed, she’d look him in the eye right now. Instead, she appeared to be steeling herself for some sort of proposition. Maybe she’d had a bad breakup, needed a little rebound.
That he could do.
“Can’t enjoy your chardonnay without having a seat,” he replied easily, patting the stool with one hand. Her eyebrows slammed down over her pert nose and she pegged him with an expression that bordered on fury.
A zap! hit him low in the gut. A warning drowned out by intense curiosity.
Let’s tangle, honey.
A glass of chardonnay and a bottle of beer appeared in front of him, and without breaking away from her fiery blue gaze, he handed over the wine. Strawberry’s nostrils flared, but she took the glass, tipped it to her lips and had sucked down a third of it by the time he’d lifted his bottle.
Yep. She was definitely here on a mission.
She set the glass down with a loud clink. “I’ll pay you two thousand dollars to spend a weekend with me.”
Gage lowered his beer without taking a sip. His mouth was poised to say the word what but he didn’t have a chance to say anything before she was opening her purse and showing him the contents. Stacks of twenties were packed into it, facing every which way like she’d robbed a convenience store before propositioning him.
“I’m attending a destination wedding in the Midwest in two weeks. Your flight and separate room will be paid in full. I’ll give you two thousand dollars to go with me.”
Just as he’d settled on the notion that this beautiful creature was certifiably insane, a flicker of doubt lit her expressive eyes.
“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for the duration. I know Ohio doesn’t sound scenic, but Crown is a beautiful, quaint town. And there will be food,” she added with a touch of desperation. “Really good food.”
Her throat moved as she swallowed thickly, her outer layer of surety and confidence flaking away.