by Sosie Frost
I bounced Tabby on my lap as she attempted to bolt and toddle away. I should have let her go. The surprise in her diaper wasn’t the first impression Jules and me needed to give this county zoning guy.
I didn’t bother heading inside. Tabby and me were pros now. I laid a blanket over the porch and grabbed the kid, diaper bag always at the ready.
Jules paced again, avoiding the mess. He checked his phone. “I’m gonna call that office.”
“It’s local government,” I said. “They move at a different pace.”
“They said eleven. It’s twelve. Why didn’t this asshole call?”
“Because…local government.”
“Isn’t that what we pay taxes for?” He dialed the phone. Wouldn’t get him anywhere, but it cooled him down. “Christ, I’m paying this bastard’s salary. He can’t even show up on time?”
I tucked the dirty diaper in a spare bag and slid and fresh one under Tabby’s butt. Should have kept the wipes out.
A slinking, huffing figure stormed up the driveway—half-mud, half-homicidal rage.
For some random asshole at the zoning office, the dude rocked a skirt. His legs went to his chin, his dress hugged the right curves, and even the mud complimented that cinnamon skin.
This couldn’t have been the zoning officer. I didn’t know the lady. But she was pissed.
“Jules,” I said.
He ignored my warning.
“You know, this is what’s wrong with the world,” he said. “I’m trying my goddamned hardest to get this farm up and running. How am I supposed to work if the taxes are killing me, the regulation is binding my hands, and now this zoning bullshit tells me where I can and can’t build on my own damn property?”
I eyed the woman stomping her foot behind him. “Jules…”
“This is our land. It was my father’s land. His father’s land. And his father’s land.” Jules slammed a hand against the siding of the house. “They built this home with their bare hands. Then they worked the land every day of the year. Sunup to sundown. And there wasn’t any municipality telling them what they could and couldn’t do on their own land.”
I gestured to the woman caked in mud as she grew more pissed by the second. “Julian.”
“Now I have some hotshot wannabe politician telling me what to do? Probably some fatass who never even set foot on a farm. Never worked a day in his life, sitting behind some desk in a cushy office, getting off on every rejected building application. Know it took me two weeks to even get an appointment with this asshole? He’s too goddamned incompetent show up on time.”
“Julian!” I grabbed Tabby off the blanket and stood. “I think he is here.”
Jules turned, took one look at the woman coated in mud, and burst out laughing.
Pretty sure this was how the Paynes would inevitably lose their farm.
“What the hell…who are you?” Julian stared at the woman. “What happened to you?”
“Someone….” The woman seethed, practically melting the mud from her body. It stained her business suit, her purse, and her bare feet. What the hell had happened to her shoes? “There’s a…it was locked…”
Jules grabbed Tabby’s blanket and offered it to her. She refused, fists balled at her side, the rage choking her.
Livid.
Yep.
She was about to go nuclear.
“The gate was locked.” She pointed down the path. “I had to get out…open it…mud everywhere…” She peeked at her wiggling toes, coated in mud and bits of grass. “My shoes…sucked in. And you.” She hissed at Jules. “Are you Julian Payne?”
“Yeah. Who the hell are you?”
“Your appointment.” She gritted her teeth. “And I would have been here sooner if someone hadn’t locked the gate. I fell into the mud then had to claw my way here.”
Jules shook his head. “Look, swamp thing. I’m sorry you got a little dirty, but I got an appointment with Micah Robinson, not…”
And here I thought I made bad choices. Jules made worse decisions. A lot worse.
“…Not his secretary.”
The woman started to laugh, though I got the feeling she didn’t find his statement that funny.
“You know, honey,” she said. “I was doing you a favor.”
“Were you?”
“Coming out in person. Seeing the farm. Meeting this Julian Payne everyone keeps talking about.” Her rage seemed to manifest in a torturous retribution. “But I can tell you right now what the decision will be regarding your barn.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah…it’s gonna get denied. Hard.” She wiped the mud from her face and stormed away. “Don’t bother helping me with the gate. I think I got it.”
“Don’t let it knock you on your ass on the way out, sweetheart.”
Tabby gave an excited wave. “Buh-bye!”
“That’s right, kid.” Jules snorted. “Bye-bye.”
He yanked out his phone and put the call on speaker as he dialed the zoning office.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked. “Ratting her out?”
“Who the hell is this Micah Robinson?” Jules nearly crushed his cell in his fist. “I had to send him half a dozen emails to even schedule this meeting. Least he can do is tell me he’s cancelling the appointment.”
“He didn’t cancel.” I pointed to the woman marching away. “He sent her.”
“He sent his secretary.” Jules waited while the phone rang a dozen times. “Damn it. He won’t even answer!”
The voice mail message began. A pre-recorded, gentle voice graciously offered an excuse for the absence.
A woman’s voice.
“This is Micah Robinson, Sawyer County Zoning Department.” Her words dripped sweetness instead of mud. “I’m out of the office for the day, but please leave your name and number, and I’ll return your call shortly. Or, you can email me, at…”
Jules ended the call and sucked in a breath.
I owed him a moment of silence for the farm he’d just killed.
“So…” I said. “That was…Micah.”
Jules exhaled and nearly deflated. “Yeah.”
I nodded. “Micah’s a woman.”
“Yeah.”
“Micah is…” I pointed with Tabby’s hand. She giggled. Jules did not. “That woman, stomping away.”
“Of course, she is.”
“So…”
Jules collapsed onto the porch’s top step as the rain fell in a sudden torrent. He watched his only chance at a barn angrily storm off his property, her soaking wet dress clinging to her curves.
“This…” Jules spoke mostly to himself. “This is going to get really complicated.”
I hauled Tabby into my arms and brought her inside while the rain gusted onto the porch in sheets.
Jules stayed in the rain. Probably for the best.
Cassi waited for me in the kitchen as she mixed a jug of lemonade with Mellie. She peeked out the window, watching the woman in the distance.
“What happened?” she asked. “Was that the zoning officer?”
I lowered Tabby to the ground. She toddled to Cassi, grabbed her leg, and plunked down on her foot.
“After some debate…we have concluded that that woman was, in fact, the zoning officer.”
“What’d she say?”
“Before or after Jules inadvertently locked her off the property, got her stuck in a mud puddle, then insulted her?”
It didn’t surprise her. “Do we get the barn?”
“Not looking good.”
I couldn’t stand to see her upset. The pitcher of lemonade clunked on the table. I pulled her as close as I could get with both ankle-biters hugging alternate legs.
“Hey…” I tucked a curl behind her ear. “Don’t worry about the barn.”
“We need it,” she said. “The farm’s gotta get up and running. Jules is working so hard. If we get it built, maybe the others will see. Maybe they’ll come around. Stop fighting. Start…ac
ting like a family again.”
“They don’t need a barn for that.” I traced a finger over her chest, to her heart. “That’s why they got you. As long as you’re taking care of them, no one should worry.”
“I suddenly have a lot to take care of…” She hummed. “These two girls.”
“They’re little. Don’t take up much room.”
“Marius.”
“You’re alternating weeks with the others to stay in DC with him.”
“And you…”
“Me?” I smirked. “There’s only one thing you can do for me.”
“Not in the middle of the kitchen with the girls here.”
I conceded that. “Okay…two things.”
“And what’s that?”
I leaned in and captured her a kiss. “Tell me you love me.”
“On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“You tell me first.”
That wouldn’t a problem. I’d never stop saying it.
“I love you, Sassy.”
How had I ever run from her smile?
“I love you too.”
The End
Coming Soon!
Coming February 2018!
P.I.T.A. - An Enemies To Lovers Romance
A Payne Brothers Romance
Never knew a woman could be so beautiful…
…so tempting
…so amazing
And such a pain in my ass.
I need her to save my farm.
She expects a favor in return.
I didn’t just make a deal with the devil.
I slept with her too.
Coming February 2018!
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ALSO BY SOSIE FROST
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
Acknowledgments
Short and sweet <3
To my readers:
Thank you all so much for waiting for this latest release. I’m touched by the support, messages, emails, and well-wishes I’ve received these past few months.
I do it all for you guys. :)
And to Kelley:
Thank you again for all your words and wisdom and edits.
Especially the edits.
I don’t know what I’d do with you.
<3
Bonus Book - Déjà Vu
As a special bonus, I’m including a copy of Deja Vu with Babyjacked! This is one of my favorite books. I hope you like it as much as I do!
<3 Sosie
I don’t remember giving birth.
I don’t remember my name, my family, or where I come from.
I don’t remember…anything.
The only clue to my past rests in a bundle of blankets swaddled in my arms—a newborn baby girl.
With no leads and no family able to find me, the only way I can learn the truth is if I recover my lost memories myself. Fortunately, I have help.
Detective Shepard Novak, the gorgeous, blue-eyed police officer assigned to my case, is determined to uncover the mystery—and with it, my secrets. But as the days become weeks, the only memories I keep are the ones we’ve made together.
I shouldn’t feel the way I do for him, and I shouldn’t have let him get this close. But I can’t remember a life before him…and now? I’m not sure I want to search anymore.
Is it worth sacrificing my past for a chance at our future?
Déjà Vu
Copyright © 2016 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: Mayhem Cover Creations
Model: Travis DesLaurier
Photographer: Lisa-Marie Photography
Created with Vellum
To L.G.
Bet you didn’t think I could write a “Secret Mommy” romance
1
What was the most annoying thing about not knowing who I was, where I’d come from, or how I got there?
Trying to make a breakfast order without having any idea what I liked to eat.
Eggs? Bacon? Smoothie?
Some problems were bigger than others. Breakfast fell somewhere in the spectrum between I have no memories of anyone or anything and I hope I’m not allergic to soy.
This information—or lack thereof—was also perplexing to the pretty doctor who sat on the end of my hospital bed.
“Can you tell me your name?” the doctor asked.
I didn’t like what my answer would be. She didn’t like the hesitation. At least we were of one mind about this sticky situation…even if mine half appeared to be broken.
“You go first,” I said. “I’ll keep thinking.”
“Fair enough. I’m Doctor Rory Owens. Do you know where you are?”
Swing and a miss.
“Well…” My smile wouldn’t fool anyone, least of all me. “I’m not seeing any complimentary shampoos or minibars…so I’m guessing this isn’t the Ritz Carlton.”
“The food isn’t nearly that good.”
I shifted against the bed. The sheets tucked up tight, and I attempted to adjust them. The bed won. A sharp, unexpected, and thoroughly unwelcomed ache shot through me. That answered some questions.
Not all, but it was a good start.
I frowned. “So I’m probably not in Vegas either?”
“Care to make another wager?”
“Not sure I have anything left to bet.”
Doctor Owens tapped her fingernails on the clipboard, manicured and bright pink. I might have admired them more if I wasn’t also stained by flecks of pink. Splatters of pastel colors freckled my dark arms. Splotchy, like I bludgeoned a sugar plum fairy. The pixie must have won though. It was my butt in the h
ospital, and the fairy gang played rough. If Sugar took my memory, then Tooth probably stole my kidneys.
Doctor Owens continued her interrogation. “Do you know why you’re here?”
I concentrated. Nothing came to mind, but there wasn’t much in there anyway. Names, numbers, locations, goals, secrets, fantasies, scores of the last Rivets’ game…gone. My chest squeezed tight. I didn’t like that panic.
I gave her a shrug. “Breast implants?”
Doctor Owens shared my smirk. “You’ll reap the benefits without a surgery, I promise.”
I glanced down. The heaving surprises were impressive, but I didn’t feel like I could take credit for the particularly feminine fiesta under the hospital gown. I didn’t recognize my own body.
I was black. Good to know.
Young. That was a plus.
I hurt, but at least my butt was parked in a hospital.
But how long had I been here? My teeth were fuzzy and my hair went frizzy. It wasn’t an accurate measure of time, but coupled with the various aches and pains, I concluded that whatever had beaten my memory out of me had happened at least a day ago.
Maybe longer.
Yuck. Toothbrush first, memory later.
“You’re at Ironfield Regional Hospital.” Doctor Owens spoke slowly. “I’m taking care of you. I want you to do me a favor. Remember these five words. Bottle. Rattle. Milk. Crib. Diaper.”
“I’m sensing a theme.”