And if Margie knew, did Cinna know too?
“Yes, I know what I’m doing,” she said. “For the first time in my life, I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I don’t have any plans for tomorrow, but I know he makes me happy. And that’s enough.”
“See?” Cinna thrust the phone closer to Pepper, pushing Margie closer. “She’s crazy.”
“She does appear to be missing a few key parts of her normal personality,” Margie agreed.
“It’s called love, you goobers,” Gran crowed. She huffed out a breath. “Dang. This goat needs a lot of air.” The nozzle was in its left thigh, which made Gran look like she was kissing the goat’s rear end. “Here. Somebody else blow the goat for a while.”
“She doesn’t get the goat, Gran,” Margie said.
“Listen here, missy. You might have some fancy degree, but I’m still your grandmother, and I’m still the boss of the goat.”
Pepper stepped around Cinna and phone-Margie to snag Sadie’s leash. “We’ll do the goat another time, Gran. I need to walk Sadie and go into work for a few hours.”
“Not getting any younger,” Gran chirped. “Go see Tony. Take the goat with you.”
“Don’t think she needs the goat’s help,” Cinna muttered.
Every muscle in Pepper’s body went tense. But she pursed her lips together, clipped Sadie’s leash to her collar, and forced herself to turn back to walk out the door. “Margie, miss you, hope to see you soon. Cinna, don’t let Gran go out alone. I have a Knot Fest meeting, and I’m not missing it again to go pick her up at the strip club in Willow Glen. Gran, be good, or I’ll find a new seniors’ home for you myself, and I know you ate the last of my M&Ms last week, so you’re already on my list.”
Her sisters were acting as though they knew about her fertility treatments.
As if they disapproved.
Just as she thought they would.
She’d deal with them later. For today, she was going to enjoy the good things in her life.
* * *
Another early spring warm spell had brought temperatures nice enough to leave the windows open. Tony took his time getting going Thursday morning. Sales were up, he’d spent half of last night at Pepper’s house with her and Gran, binge-watching old Supernatural episodes with one dog curled between him and Pepper and the other in time-out across the room. Once Gran had fallen asleep, they’d done other things that still had him grinning, and now he was stretched out on his bed, skimming Facebook while Lucky purred in his lap.
This dating thing was nice.
No pressure.
No worries.
Just two people who had more in common than they thought, enjoying each other’s friendship and company, with no expectations about the future.
He’d always wanted to take care of Tabitha. To be her knight in shining armor.
Pepper, though, didn’t need a knight.
He’d thought that would bother him. That she didn’t need him for his stability, for his strength, for his money, for his support. She didn’t need him for anything.
She simply wanted him. Which was so much more powerful than he’d ever known it could be.
A breeze fluttered the old curtains that had come with the house, and with it came a voice.
“I’m telling you, Margie, she’s pregnant. There’s all that food she’s been eating, then the glow all week, and now she’s in the house, puking her guts out.”
He dropped his phone.
That was Cinna.
Numbness crept into his feet and clawed its way up his ankles.
“I don’t know,” Cinna said. Her voice was hushed, as though she didn’t want to be overheard.
Or maybe she did.
Did she know Tony’s bedroom faced Pepper’s backyard?
“Wherever she’s keeping everything about her IVF treatments, I can’t find it. So I don’t know if it’s Tony’s or not.”
That numbness was spreading fast now. Up his calves, his thighs, shrinking his nuts, icing over his chest. He leapt off the bed, stumbled, and Lucky shot out the door as fast as her little limp would carry her.
This wasn’t real.
This was some kind of prank.
She’d said she couldn’t get pregnant. She’d sworn to him she couldn’t get pregnant. So why—how—but—
He didn’t even bother with shoes. His lungs were heaving, his heart shredding itself in his chest.
Cinna was wrong.
She was wrong.
He didn’t feel the wet grass under his socks. He didn’t feel his hand pounding on her front door, and he didn’t see either of the dogs when he charged past Gran.
All he knew was that this was not happening to him again.
The woman he loved—fuck, when did he start loving her?—was not having another man’s baby. “Where. Is. She?”
She wouldn’t do this.
Not Pepper.
She wouldn’t.
He didn’t hear Gran answer, because he was taking the steps two at a time to the bathroom upstairs. The door opened before he could bang on it, and there she was—his Pepper.
Pale. Unnaturally bright-eyed. Hand to her lower belly.
Just like Tabitha had been.
Every single morning of the first two months of her pregnancy.
The condom. It had broken. The fucking condom had broken.
“Tony?”
“Are you pregnant?” he demanded.
She went a shade paler and drew back into the bathroom.
“Are you?” he repeated.
“Why would you ask me that?”
Why? Why, why, why? His heart wouldn’t stop. His brain wouldn’t stop. His lungs wouldn’t stop. They were all too much. Too heavy, too fast, too hard. “You were trying to get pregnant.”
Her lids snapped as she blinked over her bright green eyes. She grabbed hold of the sink. “Who told you that?”
“It’s true. It’s true, isn’t it?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It fucking does matter if you’re sleeping with me and carrying some other asshole’s baby,” he roared.
He grabbed his head, because he couldn’t grab his heart.
Not again. This was not happening again.
“You need to leave.” He could barely hear her over the panic raging in his ears, but he knew that tone.
It was a Pepper Blue special.
She’d gotten what she wanted, and he was excused.
“You owe me the truth,” he ground out.
“It’s becoming pretty clear that I don’t owe you a single damn thing. Get. Out.”
“I swear to god, if you’re—”
“Get out.” She didn’t touch him, but her words were a slap in the face.
Because she wasn’t saying get out for now.
She was saying get out for good.
“The goat worked?” Gran said behind him. “Yes! I knew I could count on that goat!”
“Gran, shut up.”
Tony didn’t wait to hear any more.
He’d heard all he needed.
Pepper Blue wasn’t the woman he thought she was.
And he was a damn fool.
20
Pepper’s stomach was roiling, her head ached, she was feverish and chilled all at the same time, and she was on a warpath.
She found Cinna walking into the kitchen from the backyard thirty seconds after the front door slammed shut behind Tony.
“What. Did. You. Do?” she demanded. Every word made her stomach bubble and protest, but she wasn’t letting this stupid bug get her down.
She was too furious.
At Gran. At Cinna. At Tony.
How could he think that about her?
Cinna reached into the cabinet for a box of Cocoa Pebbles. “Pregnancy test is in my room. Not that you need it. Pretty sure we all know what the puking’s about.”
It took every ounce of control not to grab that box and fling it across the room. “You told Tony I was pregn
ant.”
Cinna started. “What? No. That’s your job.” She jerked her thumb toward the back door. Outside. In the open. “I told Margie.”
Oh, god. Pepper’s knees threatened to give out. His bedroom—her backyard—he’d heard every word.
And he’d believed Cinna. He knew Pepper couldn’t get pregnant, and he’d believed Cinna. “Why?”
“Because you are.”
Hope flared to life right alongside the searing pain of knowing her sister was wrong. “I’m going to say this one time. And one time only. I am not now, nor will I ever be pregnant. Whatever you think you know, you don’t.” Dammit, not the tears. But her throat was clogging and her nose was burning and her tongue was getting thick. “I. Can’t. Have. Babies. Not now. Not ever. And there’s not a family pool or a stomach bug or a fucking goat that can change it. Ever.”
The know-it-all in Cinna’s stance was shifting into something far worse.
Something that looked like pity. “Pepper, I—”
“Don’t talk to me. Just—don’t.”
Her stomach heaved again. She clutched her midsection, turned and stumbled past Gran—who, for once, looked every bit her age—and hurtled herself up the stairs.
Now they knew.
Now they knew, and now she’d have to tell the story a dozen more times.
Alone.
Because the one person in this world who knew, the one person she’d thought could possibly understand how much this hurt, wasn’t the man she’d thought he could be either.
And she hadn’t realized until right now just how much she’d wanted him to be.
* * *
Tony’s basketball game sucked the next Monday.
It sucked so bad, the other team started missing easy layups out of sympathy. Probably because they were up by fortyish points.
When the bloodbath was over, his legs were tired, his lungs ached, he had a newly jammed finger that would be a bitch to work with when he was making pizza dough later today, and not a single woman in their little audience would look at him.
Not even Mikey and Dahlia’s baby. Probably not Kimmie’s babies either, even though they were still baking.
Babies, babies everywhere. Everyone got babies except Tony.
That should’ve been the biggest rub. If Pepper was pregnant—and he didn’t have a fucking clue if she was or wasn’t, but he’d heard through the grapevine that she’d told her family she’d been going through fertility treatments the better part of the last year, intent on doing motherhood alone after too many failed relationships—she’d fight him tooth and nail to make sure he saw that baby as little as possible.
If it was his.
The Pepper he knew—the Pepper he knew—wouldn’t do that to him.
But the Tony he was would never recover from that horrific moment, staring down at a perfect little girl with dark hair and blue eyes, screaming her lungs out like she already knew she was her mama’s girl, when a burly, dark-haired guy he recognized as a regular customer had come barreling into the delivery room.
The nurses had tried to stop him, security had been rushing in, but he’d cried, Tabitha, is she mine? and Tony’s whole world had unraveled.
Everything he’d known, everything he’d loved, everything he’d dreamed of, just gone.
And when he’d had that moment of panic that Pepper was doing the same thing to him, he’d done the one thing he’d been fantastic at for over a year now.
He made sure he got out first.
But he’d forgotten how much it hurt like a bitch.
Four hours after the game, he was surprised when Max showed up at Pepperoni Tony’s back door.
Dammit.
He was going to have to change his pizza joint’s name.
“You look like a man in need of a beer,” Max said.
Tony grunted.
“Grab a pizza and get your ass over to the garage.”
So he could play kumbaya with someone who’d been Pepper’s friend first? Max might’ve gotten out of The Aisle, but he still had it in his blood. Didn’t matter that Pepper wasn’t native.
She fit in.
And Tony didn’t.
Not in Willow Glen. Not in Bliss.
Apparently nowhere with normal people with normal problems.
Should’ve moved to Nebraska. Or Mississippi.
“Heard a rumor Lindsey Truitt’s on her way to see you,” Max said. “It’s me or her, and if you’re half as smart as you usually act, you’re gonna grab that pizza and get over to my place.”
Fine.
But he wouldn’t like it.
Since he’d lost his mind over Cinna’s conversation last Thursday, he hadn’t liked much of anything. Not pizza, not beer, certainly not bourbon.
Definitely not himself.
He still liked Lucky, but he wasn’t so sure his cat liked him. She’d been sneaking outside more frequently, delivering fewer sacrifices to her water bowl, shredding more toilet paper, and he hadn’t caught her on his bed even once.
He also hadn’t seen Pepper at all. Not getting in her car, not coming home, not walking her dog or letting any dogs out into her backyard.
Possibly because he’d shut all his curtains, gotten to work before sunrise, and refused to go home until late into the night. Working was what he was good at.
Not people. Not relationships. Not anything that involved emotions or commitments or family. And his own family had been a bear lately too. All of his brothers and sisters—step, half, and full—had stopped by at least once since the wedding. Dropped in for pizza. To chat. To ask if he’d bring Pepper to this graduation party or that family dinner or this play or that basketball game that one of his nieces or nephews had.
They liked her.
Hell, he liked her. He’d more than liked her.
But he fucked up everything he touched. And he was done.
Just done.
As much for her benefit as his own.
He left Pepperoni Tony’s in his assistant manager’s hands and took a chicken bacon ranch pizza next door. Merry wasn’t around—on a deadline at home, according to Max—so they settled into the office over beers and pizza.
“Merry dumped me once,” Max said.
Tony grunted. He didn’t give two anchovies about someone else’s love life.
“Up and disappeared completely,” Max continued. “No warning, no note, no nothing. Just gone. For a year.”
So now Tony knew Max was a moron. No wonder he was willing to be friendly today. He was too stupid to know better than to try to make friends. Tony chugged half a beer and tossed the empty can toward the trash can.
Missed.
What a surprise.
If Max was picking up on the shut up vibe, he ignored it. “Found out her dad was a jewel thief. Then I caught her trying to sneak into my family’s jewelry shop just before Christmas.”
Now the story was getting good. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”
Max grinned. “I’m gonna pretend like you didn’t just insult both me and the love of my life.”
“And I’m gonna pretend you’re not here trying to tell me some deep lesson about how we need to understand women’s motives.”
“Actually, this is your last shot to explain to a few of us what the fuck’s going on in your head before Pepperoni Tony’s gets blacklisted on The Aisle. Which I’d like to avoid, because this is actually damn good pizza.”
Six weeks ago, that would’ve inspired terror.
Failing at Pepperoni Tony’s—that would’ve killed him.
But even though pizza was his baby, he didn’t care. He didn’t have it in him to care. What good was pizza without someone to share it with?
His heart was broken. His dick was broken. His soul was broken.
What difference did any of it make?
“Merry likes you,” Max said. “She has good instincts. Better than most after everything she’s seen. She says you’re a decent guy. But that only gets you so far when no on
e knows why you broke up with Pepper. Especially while she’s been so sick.”
And there went that knife, twisting in his gut again.
It didn’t actually matter if Pepper was pregnant.
Because Tony could never be the kind of man she needed.
Or wanted, for that matter.
He grabbed another beer and stood. “Thanks for lunch. We should do this again sometime.”
“Not a guy here who hasn’t been there, Tony. Don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But don’t be an ass either. Gonna break my lady’s heart if you take away her Merry Cheese pizza.”
“I’ll send you the recipe.”
This wasn’t like when Tabitha destroyed him.
This was worse.
Because this time, he knew he was doing it to himself.
* * *
Pepper was finally back at work, in the full swing of things, by Tuesday. She’d peed on a stick to appease Cinna, who had gone out of her way to be an utter angel while Pepper battled her stomach bug. Mom had come and picked up Gran and George—so Gran didn’t get sick, she’d said, but Pepper knew her mother.
So you can have some time off to recover.
And not from being sick either. From the dating and the goat of fertility and the beauty that was an old lady who’d lived a full life with nearly everything she’d ever wanted, now trying to influence her granddaughters’ lives to be the same.
Which wasn’t entirely fair—Pepper knew Gran’s heart had broken when Grandpa had passed away, though she’d been too young to really understand or feel anything when it happened.
But Gran had had her babies. She’d had a solid husband. She’d traveled the world, and she was still grabbing life by the horns and riding it with carefree abandon.
The only thing Pepper had ever come close to doing with carefree abandon was dating Tony.
She got it—his ex-wife had hurt him in probably the most painful way a woman could hurt a man.
But she also knew she and Tony wouldn’t have lasted forever. Sooner or later—probably sooner—she would’ve wanted to take the next step. Talk about moving in together, or getting engaged, or even eloping.
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