Pepper opened her mouth to respond, but Grant beat her to it. “I’ll take care of it. She’s going back to my place.”
Mack nodded and walked away, leaving Pepper at a bit of a loss. “Why would I go to your place?”
Grant looked at her with a serious expression. “Because that’s where you live now.”
A twitter of nervous laughter rose up in her throat. “Don’t be silly, Grant. We’re not even dating anymore. You don’t have to take me in like some refugee. If you can take me to Miss Twila’s, I’ll be fine.”
“I’m not taking you in like a refugee and I’m certainly not dumping you at the bed-and-breakfast. I’m asking you to marry me and move into my place until our renovated house is ready.” Pepper sputtered at his sudden declaration. “W-what a-are you talking about?”
Grant sat down beside her on the bumper of the ambulance. “I’m sorry about before. I shouldn’t have pushed you about what was going on. I respect your decision to keep quiet about it. But,” he added, “I’m not going to let you use it as an excuse to push me away.”
“I didn’t—” she started but he held up his hand.
“I know everything, Pepper. I had a nice, long chat with your father and he explained the whole situation to me. All of it,” he said with emphasis. “I understand why your brother wouldn’t be my biggest fan, but I’m going to work on that. I’m not going to tell my family—like you, it’s not my place, but I’m going to extend an olive branch. If he chooses to accept it, we’ll start over and try to build our own relationship. But that’s got nothing to do with you and me.”
Pepper wasn’t sure if it was the lack of oxygen due to the smoke inhalation or if she was just having trouble following everything Grant had to say. She’d heard the words “marry” and “move into my place” mixed in among a lot of words about Logan and their families.
“Are you okay?” Grant asked with concern lining his sooty face.
“I think I might be in shock.”
Grant pulled a flashlight out of the nearby case and flashed it in her eyes. “Your pupils look okay. Are you cold?”
“No. I’m just having a really hard time trying to follow what you’re saying.”
Grant smiled and took her hand in his. “I’ll make it really easy. I’ve asked your father for permission to propose to you. I hadn’t intended to do it tonight, so I don’t have a ring or a fancy proposal scripted out, but I’m going to say this anyway. I love you, Pepper. You’re the first woman in my whole life who gave me focus and meaning. You challenge me, irritate me, and motivate me to be a better man. I want to spend every day of the rest of our lives together.
“Earlier tonight, I was sitting home alone and I heard the call for the fire department. My heart leapt into my throat. I rushed here, praying to God I hadn’t lost my opportunity to tell you how I felt. Now that you’re here, and safe, I’m not going to let someone else’s secrets get in the way of our chance at happiness together. I want you to move in with me. I want us to rebuild your house and make it into a real home where you and I can live and start our lives together. Pepper, will you marry me?”
Pepper gasped as she listened to him speak. She followed every word and yet she could barely believe she was hearing them. This whole night was so surreal. She hadn’t quite come to terms with the idea of losing almost every single thing she owned. Of being temporarily homeless. Of nearly dying. So many things were flying at her so quickly, she didn’t know what to do or think about it all. But she knew one thing for certain—she wanted to say yes with every ounce of energy she had left in her.
She brought her hand up to his face, caressing the stubble of his cheek. Pepper thought she might never get to touch him like this again. “Yes,” she said.
Grant’s nervous expression melted away into a wide grin. “Yes?”
Pepper nodded and Grant scooped her up into his arms. She fell into him, feeling safe in his embrace for the first time since she woke up on her neighbor’s lawn. His lips met hers, gently sealing their agreement more officially than any ring could do.
When they pulled apart, she looked up at him and smiled. “I love you,” she said for the very first time.
“I love you, too,” he responded.
“I’ve never said that to anyone before.”
Grant grinned wide. “Good. I don’t want you to say it to anyone else, ever.” He took her left hand and brought it up to his lips. He kissed her bare ring finger. “We’re going to get you a ring tomorrow,” he promised.
Pepper chuckled, shaking her head. “I think we should start a little smaller.”
His brow drew together in confusion. “Smaller?”
“Yes. I’d love an engagement ring, but I’d also like shoes. And pants. A couple pairs of panties and a toothbrush. We can work our way up to diamonds, but we’ve got a lot of other things to buy first.”
Grant nodded. “Absolutely. We’ll get you everything you want. I’ll take you down to the insurance agent first thing in the morning.”
“In the meantime, I’ve got a little money,” she said. “Some little birdie refunded the four thousand dollars I paid for you.”
Grant looked a little stunned. “Did you ask for a refund?”
Pepper shook her head. “Not at all. I’d pay it again. Your grandmother can drop ice water on me any day.”
He took her hand and helped her up. Looking down at her feet, he frowned. “No shoes. I guess we have no choice but to go with the cliché fairy-tale ending to the night.”
Pepper looked at him in confusion, but before she could say a word, Grant swept her up into his arms. She cried out in surprise, quickly clinging to his neck. “You’re going to hurt your arm.”
“I can’t feel a thing other than how much I love you, Pepper.”
Pepper hugged him and rested her head on his shoulder as he carried them through the obstacle course of hoses and equipment to his truck.
“She said yes!” he shouted to the other firemen milling around as he walked by.
“Good for you!” someone shouted, quickly followed by “yes to what?”
Grant didn’t answer right away. He carried her over to his truck, not setting her down until he had to open the door. He helped her inside and leaned in to give her a kiss. “Yes to forever,” he said softly as their lips parted.
Yes to forever.
Ready for More? The Fun in Rosewood Continues…
Chapter One
“Now those are some nice-looking buns.”
Madelyn Chamberlain looked up in time to see Emmett Sawyer walk past her bakery. He was up early for a night owl— or perhaps he was up late for him—but as always, the shaggy, laid-back owner of Woody’s, the local bar, was looking casually delicious. He managed to make a simple T-shirt and jeans look sexy. Of course, it helped that his well-worn jeans fit him like they were custom-made. Just the sight of him wearing them caused an uncharacteristic tingle to run through her body. “They sure are,” she muttered to herself.
“Maddie, do they have nuts in them?”
Emmett disappeared from sight, and Maddie turned to look at Miss Dotty as she perused the bakery case. Apparently, Miss Dotty had been referring to the honey buns, not Emmett’s well-fitting jeans. “No, if you want nuts, get the sticky buns instead. They have toasted, candied pecans.”
“Oooh . . . sticky buns.” Miss Dotty moved to the next case and got engrossed in the daily selections.
Maddie was always dumbfounded when customers came in and stared at the choices as though they weren’t the same every day. When she bought the Rosewood Bakery from the late owner’s daughter, Maddie worked with her father to put together a solid business plan. Part of that was being smart about supplies and offerings. When she reopened as Madelyn’s Bakery & Tea House, she decided to serve a standard set of baked goods available on a regular basis. Each day, in addition to any custom orders, she featured one special item, like lemon tarts or chocolate éclairs.
It’d worked well for her so
far. Some people came in and got the same treat every day. Others came in on the same day each week for their favorite special. She normally sold out of the white-chocolate-raspberry-cheesecake bars by noon every Tuesday. They did well enough that she was considering adding them as an everyday offering.
Miss Dotty, a daily visitor, had a sweet tooth and no desire to actually bake anymore. Each day, the older woman would wander into the shop and stare intently at the display case, spending upward of fifteen minutes in the shop. And no matter how many questions she asked or how many other items she eyed, she always left with a cinnamon roll.
“You know, I think today I’ll just have my usual,” Dotty decided.
Maddie smothered a grin. “Sure thing.” She slid open the back of the case and pulled out a cinnamon roll. She already had a small pastry box ready to go by the register. “That’s three-fifty.”
Miss Dotty fussed in her purse for a few minutes and then finally pulled out a few rumpled bills. There seemed to be an endless supply of wadded-up bills in the bottom of Miss Dotty’s leather Coach bag. Surely Miss Dotty could afford a wallet, but it seemed that everything just gathered in the bottom; a stockpile of tissues, pennies, receipts, and stray dollar bills.
Maddie was handing back her change when her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Pepper Anthony, came into the bakery. Pepper worked at the hair salon next door.
“Morning,” she said, moving past Miss Dotty to peruse the treats.
Although they were almost family, Pepper and Maddie weren’t close. According to her brother Grant, it was Maddie’s fault, because she was a stuck-up brat. But it wasn’t her fault she had high standards she held everyone—herself included—to. There was no good reason why someone couldn’t put their very best effort in every day, be it in their appearance, their job, or their attitude. Some people were just too lazy to make the cut. And she felt no reason to play nice with people she didn’t have an interest in.
Of course, now that those people were her customers and some of them would soon be members of the Chamberlain family, Maddie had to find a way to be nice to everyone. And she was trying. But it was hard. For all the grief she got from people for being mean to them, she’d had her fair share of mistreatment from others. Being a young, single daughter of the great Chamberlain family had made her a target of gold diggers and haters alike. Only people like her best friend, Lydia Whittaker, understood what that was like.
“Hey, Pepper,” Miss Dotty said as she dumped her change into her purse and scooped up her cinnamon roll box. “Do you have any openings this week?”
“I’m not sure, Miss Dotty. I’ll have to check my calendar,” Pepper said. “I’m taking some treats over to the firehouse right now, but if you want to come by this afternoon, we’ll see what we can find.”
“That sounds good. I think I need a new look.”
Maddie got a large cardboard container out for Pepper’s order. Regardless of how they felt about each other, Pepper was a good customer. Maddie’s brother Grant had a sweet tooth and Pepper wasn’t inclined to bake, so she stopped in fairly often to get treats for him and the other firemen.
“I like your look,” Pepper said. “What’s prompting the change?”
“Well,” Miss Dotty said with a conspiratorial look in her eye, “I think I want to start dating again.”
Maddie froze in her tracks. Miss Dotty was a widow in her late sixties. Her stroke several years back had taken her from eccentric to downright kooky. Maddie kept waiting for the day Miss Dotty decided to streak nude through the square. The idea of her dating was a little disconcerting.
“Ever since the bachelor auction last Valentine’s Day, I’ve been thinking about trying my hand at romance again. I was disappointed, of course, when you outbid me for Grant, but I know he’s too young for me. I need to find someone like Bert. He and Vera have really hit it off.”
“Bert and Vera are dating?” Maddie couldn’t help but ask.
“Yep,” Pepper answered. “For about two months now. They got together at the Fourth of July picnic and have been nearly inseparable since then. You haven’t heard?”
“No,” Maddie said. She didn’t like Pepper’s tone, implying she was stupid somehow for not noticing. Did people not realize that she’d spent all summer getting her new business going? She’d completely overhauled the old Rosewood Bakery. Madelyn’s was on a whole other level. It was elegant and refined, featuring a new selection of French pastries she’d mastered while studying in Paris. The interior was redone with intricately designed blush-and-cream wallpaper and new wainscoting— which hadn’t put itself up, thankyouverymuch. The crystal chandelier was imported from Marseille.
And that was just the beginning. She was working on opening a tea shop in the room over the bakery and was already hosting princess-themed birthday parties there. She didn’t have time to worry about what others were doing, especially when it came to two old people making out like teenagers all over town. “I don’t work in the beauty shop, so I’m not privy to the town gossip. Not that I really care.”
“You should care,” Miss Dotty said. “You might be young and beautiful now, with your choice of suitors, but that won’t always be the case. Someday you may end up like me—an old, withered-up widow with needs. Bert and Vera have given me hope that maybe that itch can get scratched.”
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Stirring Up Trouble
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Also by Andrea Laurence
Romances in Rosewood
Facing the Music
Feeding the Fire
Stirring Up Trouble
Switched!
From Mistake to Millions
From Riches to Redemption
From Seduction to Secrets
Millionaires of Manhattan
What Lies Beneath
More Than He Expected
His Lover’s Little Secret
The CEO’s Unexpected Child
Little Secrets: Secretly Pregnant
Rags to Riches Baby
One Unforgettable Weekend
The Boyfriend Arrangement
Secrets of Eden
Undeniable Demands
A Beauty Uncovered
Heir to Scandal
Her Secret Husband
Brides and Belles
Snowed in With Her Ex
Thirty Days to Win His Wife
One Week with the Best Man
A White Wedding Christmas
Hawaiian Nights
The Pregnancy Proposition
The Baby Proposal
Other Titles
A Very Exclusive Engagement
Back in Her Husband’s Bed
Seduced by the Spare Heir
Saying Yes to the Boss
Expecting the Billionaire’s Baby
The Baby Favor
Jingle Spells
More Than Men
Sexy As Hell
The Walking Sexy
Sexy in a Bottle
The More Than Men Sexy Trilogy
About the Author
Andrea Laurence is an award-winning author of contemporary and paranormal romance. She has been a lover of reading and writing stories since she learned to read at a young age. She always dreamed of seeing her work in print and is thrilled to share her special blend of sensuality and dry, sarcastic humor with the world. A dedicated West Coast girl transplanted into the Deep South, she’s constantly trying to develop a taste for sweet tea while caring for her boyfriend and old, stubborn bully dog.
www.andrealaurence.com
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Feeding the Fire: A Rosewood Novel Page 26