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Wargasm

Page 29

by Sosie Frost


  Epilogue

  Gretchen

  My car squealed to a stop in the handicapped spot.

  And it was totally worth it.

  He wouldn’t believe this.

  Epilogue

  Marius

  Hard for a man to get upset about anything when he’d gotten the fuck of his life that morning.

  But this?

  This sucked.

  Varius and I met Tidus outside Renegades just as the bartender tapped the sign over the door.

  Closed.

  A crowd had gathered, the good men of Butterpond paying their respects with hands over their hearts and empty glasses of beer.

  “I don’t get it.” I watched as Al pulled his liquor license out of the window. “What the hell is happening in this town?”

  Tidus nearly crashed onto the sidewalk to weep. Varius patted his shoulder.

  “We’ll get through it, big guy,” Varius said. “This town pulls together in the worst of times.”

  Tidus swore from his knees, fists clenched to the sky. “How can it get any worse? They voted to make the county dry.”

  “It’s that Mayor Desmond.” Al shook his head. The lifelong bartender and purveyor of beer, advice, and a sanctuary from the wholesomeness of Butterpond patted his bar with a sad clap of his hand. “Told me to my face he wasn’t gonna vote in favor of the initiative.”

  Raymond Adamski sucked in a harsh breath, mourning the loss of the establishment that kicked his ass every night. “Lying bastard.”

  Desmond and I still had some unsettled business regarding Gretchen. “That prick governs with his ego.”

  “Still hasn’t done anything about the bears.” Dave Horsden joined Raymond on the sidewalk. “Two sightings this week.”

  I smirked at Varius. “At least people will be seeing less pink elephants around here.”

  Tidus grumbled. “Laugh it up, jackass. I was chasing my green fairy every damn night. Now what the hell am I going to do?”

  Varius shrugged. “Get your life together? Help Quint at the garage? Act like an adult?”

  “Let me rephrase—” Tidus sneered. “What am I going to drink?”

  Raymond lowered his picket sign. Spelled Butterpond right, but County had an O…unless he’d planned for the insult against the Preservation Committee.

  “Ain’t right,” he said. “Letting Desmond get away with this bullshit year in, year out.”

  “What do you expect?” I asked. “Desmond’s a prick. Has no respect for the people who voted him into the office, just runs around starting pissing contests with residents. Too busy bending over to any corporate entity that wants to build houses or develop our own goddamned land.”

  Dave nodded. “…Yeah. You’re right, Marius.”

  Of course I was. “Saw it before. CO gets too cocky. Thinks his rank is more important than the squad he serves.”

  “Honest military experience.” Raymond pointed at me. “Desmond ain’t got that. Never served a day in his life.”

  “Hell no. Only teamwork he knows—hell, only hard work he knows—is chasing a flock of goddamned peacocks around his backyard.”

  Tidus shook his head. “Poor birds. Better run while they can.”

  He didn’t need to mime the hump. Did it anyway. Varius smacked him.

  “What about all those goddamned animals?” Raymond asked. “The birds are out of control. Counted one hundred crows outside Becky Scarsdale’s house. Got more rats and feral cats than the street can handle. What are we supposed to do?”

  I laughed. “I know an animal control officer looking for a job. She’d figure take care of that zoo.”

  Dave pointed at me. “See. We need a man like Marius in this town. He’s already got a plan.”

  Tidus snorted. “He’s sleeping with the plan.”

  Varius shook his head. “Still doesn’t sound like they’re sleeping much.”

  I shrugged. “Look, Gretchen knows animals. Has experience with this stuff. Makes no sense why Desmond wouldn’t give her the job back. He’d rather put his pride over the town, plain and simple.”

  “Yeah,” Al said. “Like Butterpond is supposed to stand aside and just let that bastard vote against our interests, invite developers into the community, and ignore our problems.”

  “So, don’t let him get away with that shit,” I said. “Find someone who’ll stand up to him. Someone who will actually get shit done around here.”

  Varius slapped my shoulder. “Think we just found him.”

  I froze. The others cheered, egging on the few other men congregating outside of Renegades.

  “Marius—” Raymond pointed at me. “Ever consider running for office?”

  Jesus Christ. I’d considered running away. Did that count? “Hell no.”

  Dave grinned. “Perfect! Last thing this town needs is some bullshitting asshole running around, making this place worse for us.”

  Tidus snickered from the sidewalk. “Why don’t you tell the good folks what you think of Butterpond, Marius? I’m sure they’d love to hear it.”

  Yeah, right. Insult the men on the first night they were sober in fifty years? “I don’t know. Butterpond just is…Butterpond. It’s…small. It’s boring. It’s got the same ten families intermarrying with the other ten families. Everyone knows everyone else’s business, even the shit you don’t want anyone to learn. And people refuse to change. It’s not 1955 anymore, but you wouldn’t know it walking around the center of town.”

  Dave clapped.

  Raymond joined.

  And Al offered to shake my hand.

  “You understand Butterpond, Marius,” he said. “You know what it would take to keep this town the way it is. Free of assholes like Desmond, spineless jerks who’d sell their morals as easy as their vote.”

  “I…”

  Al pushed me forward into the group of men. “Marius is a war veteran. Served our country with honor. He left to protect us, and what does he come home to? A town ravaged by bears. Torn apart by legislation. Losing its very identity to big commercial interests!”

  Shit, shit, shit.

  I tried to shrug him away, but my brothers were no help. They hooted, laughing it up.

  “We need a person like Marius to restore Butterpond to its roots,” Al said. “Someone who knows the town. Has family here. Understands what it means to live in this city—”

  A furious honking interrupted the speech.

  Gretchen’s car squealed into the parking lot. Her Jeep came to a halt.

  Sideways. Parked across two spaces.

  Dead center in a handicapped spot.

  How the tables had turned.

  This was going to be fucking fun.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen…” I left Varius to handle my apparent campaign. “I’ve got to serve a citizen’s arrest.”

  Raymond freaked, hollering to anyone who would listen. “He’s gonna fix the handicapped spaces! Lord, oh mighty! Order is restored to Butterpond!”

  I hurried to the Jeep just as Gretchen tumbled into the lot.

  Revenge was sweet.

  “Oh no.” I pointed her back to the car. “You gotta move.”

  She launched at me. “Marius!”

  I refused the hug—only possible due to the fucking of a lifetime she’d given me this morning. Gave me a little restraint.

  “These handicapped spots are sacrosanct,” I said. “Hop that sweet ass in the car and move along, little girl.”

  “Marius, I just—”

  “No way.” I tapped my prosthetic. “Gotta save these spots for the assholes who need it.”

  “Would you—”

  “Never know who might need to park here—”

  “—Listen to me—”

  “Where’s your placard?” I grinned. “Or the bra on your rearview mirror?”

  “Marius, I’m pregnant!”

  Holy Christ.

  Tidus and Varius caught me before my good leg gave out. Gretchen took over for them, rushing into my arms an
d hopping up-and-down so quick she’d slide the kid right out of her.

  Shit. I was about to go down. The world spun. My stomach heaved.

  I’d lost my leg in war, but I couldn’t handle this.

  The greatest fucking news of a lifetime.

  I stared at her. “You’re…”

  “Yes!”

  “But…how?”

  “Just took the test!”

  “When?”

  “Now!”

  “Are you sure?”

  She pulled the positive test from her purse.

  It was the grossest, most beautiful stick in the world.

  “I was so used to seeing it negative, I had no idea what it’d look like when it was positive!” Tears formed in her eyes. “We’re pregnant!”

  And I was apparently running for mayor.

  At least the first baby I’d kiss would be my own.

  Now the men really had a reason to cheer. Great. In ten minutes time, the entire fucking town would know about the baby…and my family value’s campaign.

  And I didn’t care in the least.

  I pulled Gretchen close, tasting her tears in our kiss.

  “Happy?” I whispered.

  “Like it was fate.”

  “Never thought you’d end up with a man like me.”

  Gretchen giggled before losing herself in my kiss once more.

  “You’re better than the man of my dreams…” She placed my hand over her tummy. Over our baby. “I couldn’t have imagined a life better than this.”

  And now that we had a baby on the way?

  I pulled her close. “It’s only gonna get sweeter from here.”

  The End

  Coming Soon - Sixty Nine

  It’s a match made in heaven…

  That takes a detour through hell.

  Varius Payne is the kind of sexy even the devil doesn’t trust.

  He’s broken. He’s lost.

  And he’s looking for a savior.

  Maybe I can’t lead him to the light…

  But he’ll love what I do after dark.

  You can receive a text message when Sixty-Nine is released!

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  Also by Sosie Frost

  ALSO BY SOSIE FROST

  Payne Brothers Romance

  Babyjacked

  Boyfrenemy

  WARGASM

  Sixty-Nine (Coming Soon!)

  Bad Boy’s Series

  Bad Boy’s Baby

  Bad Boy’s Redemption (Previously Bad Boy’s Revenge)

  Bad Boy’s Bridesmaid

  Touchdowns and Tiaras

  Beauty And The Blitz

  Once Upon A Half-Time

  Happily Ever All-Star

  Standalone Romances

  Sweetest Sin - A Forbidden Priest Romance

  Hard - A Step-Brother Romance

  Deja Vu - An Amnesia Romance

  While They Watch - A Sexy BDSM Romance

  About the Author

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  Babyjacked - Payne Family Romances #1

  The classic tale of a lumberjack…

  and his nanny.

  Babyjacked

  Copyright © 2018 by Sosie Frost

  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.

  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.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you’d like to share it with. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Cover Design: Pink Ink Designs

  Photographer: Wander Aguiar Photography

  Cover Model: Forest Harrison

  Created with Vellum

  1

  Cassi

  The first time I saw Remington Marshall, he stole my heart.

  The last time I saw Remington Marshall, he’d just burned my family’s barn to the ground.

  Arson usually complicated relationships.

  Especially afterward, when Rem left our sleepy town of Butterpond in the dead of night without so much as a goodbye. He’d stayed gone for five long years.

  Five years with no phone call. No visits. No explanations.

  Even worse—no apology.

  So, when my brother, Tidus, told me Rem was back in town, I had to make a decision.

  Ignore Remington Marshall and forget he’d ever existed…

  Or demand an answer for why he’d broken my heart.

  I chose the latter, encouraged by the perspective I’d gained over the last couple years. As long as we stayed away from any flammable objects that might’ve torched what remained of my potential happiness, a conversation would bring me some much-needed closure. Besides, all that time had allowed me to douse the last few embers left burning in my barn, heart, and loins.

  But that still didn’t make confrontation a good idea, despite my brother’s insistence.

  He came home to take care of his nieces, Tidus said.

  Take him up a box of kids’ toys from storage, he said.

  Pick me up a burger from Lou’s on the way home, he said.

  Yeah, right.

  Rem wasn’t a man who wanted to be found, even in the tiny town of Butterpond—a small cluster of dreams, prayers, and fatty liver disease. Butterpond was where the trees wanted in, the people wanted out, and my family’s farm accidentally lynch-pinned the whole place together.

  To the town, my family was a fixture. The Payne’s farm. The Payne’s charity. The Payne’s pain in the ass boys who rolled over the town’s one streetlight like a plague of locusts. The Payne’s adopted daughter in a family of five boys—bless her heart.

  But Rem? He no longer belonged in the town. Men like him kept to themselves, tucked away inside a cabin in the mountains, hidden from society by gravel roads, the occasional tick, and busted suspensions.

  As much as I’d once loved Rem, risking Lyme disease and a punctured tire seemed a bad idea.

  I did it anyway.

  A box of old toys and children’s clothes was jammed in next to my sui
tcase.

  This would be quick. In and out. Hand him the box stuffed with goodies from when my family had foster kids running all over the farm. Wish him well. Make the requisite small talk. And then pretend like my heart wasn’t held together with a roll of scotch tape and a smattering of pride.

  I wasn’t about to let Remington Marshall shatter my barely rejuvenated dignity. Besides, the last I’d heard, he was the one crippled with guilt. Rumor had it—and by rumor, I meant the occasional conversation with his sister, Emma—he’d run away to the deepest forests of Canada to join a logging company.

  If a heart broke in the forest, did it make a sound? The answer was yes, but it wasn’t a thud. More like the noise a sleepy woman yelp in the middle of the night when she stubbed her toe on the way to the bathroom. Less of a timber! More like son of a—

  The box fit snugly against my hip, drawing the hem of my skirt up only an inch. I was fine with that. Showing a little leg would do me good. I’d grown up since the fire. Earned my curves. Managed to fill out my bra without two handfuls of wadded up toilet paper. Things were looking up.

  I wound my way over a weed-choked cobblestone path and picked my steps up the rickety porch. The cabin was lost in the woods, and the forest wasn’t happy with the new occupant. The little space was so overgrown with brush and leaves that the trees would be grateful to be cleaned out of the gutters.

 

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