All's Fair in Lust & War (15 page)

EPILOGUE

Becky was just
clicking through to her final PowerPoint slide when a baby’s cry echoed through the monitor placed discreetly under the conference room table.

She grinned and nudged the power switch to the Off position with her toe.

“And that’s how we’ll make the Eden campaign the advertising darling of the new year, fueling New Year’s Resolutions across the country.”

As applause broke out around the crowded conference table Izzie poked her head through the white-paneled door.

“He needs to be fed,” Izzie said in a stage whisper.

Becky motioned for her to come in and gathered the baby into her arms.

“If you have any questions, Mark can field them,” she said, moving to the comfy rocker tucked behind a folding screen in the corner.

She listened, baby nestled at her breast, as Mark swung into action. In no time he had sweet talked the Eden people into spending even more money with their tiny agency in the next year.

Trio’s future was secured.

When they were finally gone, Mark plopped down on the rocker’s ottoman and stroked the baby’s cheek.

“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” he said.

“Were you worried they wouldn’t sign?” she asked.

“No, not really. I just want to move on to the day’s big event.”

“Big event? I know I’ve been preoccupied,” she said, indicating the baby nestled on her chest, “but I thought that meeting was our last piece of client business until after the holidays.”

“It was. This has nothing to do with business.”

“Then what is it?”

Mark grinned. “It’s a surprise. Do you trust me?”

“You know I do,” Becky said.

“Good. Then I need you to head up the back staircase into your office and do whatever Izzie tells you to do. Okay?”

“Okaaayyy... I guess,” Becky said. “Now?”

“Yep. Now,” he said, pulling her to her feet.

“What about Alex?”

“I’ll take care of Alex. Hand him over,” Mark said, holding his arms out for the baby.

Becky kissed his soft head, then reluctantly gave him to Mark. Even after five months of life as a mom it still amazed her how in love she was with her baby.

“He just ate, so he’s going to need a diaper—”

“I know,” said Mark.

“And he needs to do some tummy time...”

“Got it. Just go.”

“Okay. If you’re sure...?”

Mark sighed. “Becky. You’re just going to be upstairs. I’ve got this.”

She realized she was being a bit ridiculous. “All right, I’m going,” she grumbled, and headed for the kitchen door.

* * *

When she opened her office door, she was shocked to see four different people rushing about, setting up mirrors and plugging in hair appliances.

“What on earth is going on here?” she asked.

Izzie’s pink-haired head popped up from behind her desk, plug in hand.

“Oh, there you are! We’re on a mission to doll you up. Now, hurry up and get in here. There’s not much time!”

“Time before what? I’m so confused,” Becky moaned.

Izzie grabbed her by the hand and pulled her behind a screen that had been set up in the corner.

“Don’t worry about it, boss lady.” Izzie grinned. “You’re going to love it. Now, just relax and go with the flow.”

Realizing she had no real choice in the matter, Becky nodded. “All right, I’ll try.”

“Good,” Izzie said, unzipping a dress bag. “You can start by stripping down to your skivvies. We need to make sure this fits you.”

Becky gasped when she saw the confection Izzie was holding. It was a full-length evening gown made of red velvet. Gold and red beaded embroidery sparkled at the bodice and traced a delicate path down to the hip of the A-line skirt, then flowed along the hem. Cap sleeves finished it off.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

“It’ll look even better on you,” Izzie said. “Now. come on—off with your clothes.”

* * *

Two hours later Becky was staring at her reflection in a full-length mirror, not recognizing the gorgeous woman staring back at her, when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called, not bothering to turn around.

“Wow. If that’s what having a baby does for your body, sign me up,” a familiar voice said.

Becky whirled, unable to believe her ears. “Jessie!” she shrieked when she saw her beloved redheaded friend grinning at her from the doorway. “Jessie, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know,” she said. “I was just in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d stop by...”

“You are such a liar.” Becky laughed, throwing her arms around her friend. “But I don’t care. I’m just so glad to see you!”

Jessie squeezed her back. “Me, too, lady. Me, too. But, hey, we better be careful. I don’t want to muss that gorgeous gown you’re wearing.”

Becky disentangled herself and did a little twirl.

“I know. Isn’t it amazing? But I have no idea why I’m wearing it.”

“I do. And so will you in a few minutes,” Jessie said. “But first I need to freshen up. Izzie? What have you got for me?”

Izzie dragged her behind the screen and Becky went back to gawking at herself in the mirror. Her blond hair was swept up with an elegant mass of sequined hairpins, artfully crafted curls framing her face. The makeup artist had made her emerald eyes look huge, and she was sure her lips were nowhere near that plump.

The dress emphasized her newfound curves, and for the first time since Alex was born she felt beautiful.

Tears welled in her eyes. She had no idea what Mark was planning, but she owed him big for helping her feel like a woman again.

Just then Jessie’s faced popped up behind her shoulder. “Hey, hey, hey—no crying allowed! You’re wearing way too much mascara for that.”

Becky smiled, wiping at the corner of her eye as she turned. Jessie had changed into an elegant green cocktail dress, with the same gold embroidery flashing around the knee-length hem.

“Wow. You clean up good. Wait a minute...” she said, realization dawning. “That looks like a bridesmaid’s dress. But we haven’t even begun planning the wedding. It’s supposed to be in June!”

Just then the lilting sound of a harp playing her favorite hymn floated up to her ears.

“Isn’t it?”

Jessie just winked and peeked her head out through the door.

“Mark? We’re ready for you!”

Seconds later Mark stood in the doorway, wearing a tuxedo. “Hey, babe.” He grinned. “You ready to get married?”

Becky sat down heavily in her chair. “But I thought— I mean, we’d always talked about June!” Not that she’d done anything to put plans in motion.

Mark crossed the room and kneeled down in front of her. “I know, Becky, I know. But it was a year ago today, right here in this house, when we became a family. I thought it only fitting that we make it legal in the same place. Besides,” he said, kissing her fingers, “I don’t want to wait another six months. I want the whole world to know you’re mine
now.
Becky Logan, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife today?”

Becky dabbed at her eyes again, holding back the tears by force of will alone. “Of course I will,” she said, joy fizzing in her veins.

“Good,” he said. “Then let’s do this thing.”

From the hallway, Izzie called, “Hit it, guys!” and a string quartet launched into the “Wedding March.”

Becky put her hand in the crook of Mark’s arm. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

Mark stood in front of Becky’s childhood priest, listening to the sermon with half an ear as he gazed at the beautiful woman who had agreed to be his wife. Even the glow of the twinkling white Christmas lights that sparkled around them paled in comparison to the joy emanating from her.

To think he had almost missed out on all of this. Now that their baby had arrived he couldn’t imagine life without him. Not to mention his mother.

Becky caught him staring and smiled, love shining from her eyes. “I love you,” she mouthed silently.

“I love you, too,” he mouthed back.

“If I can get these lovebirds to stop mooning over each other for a minute, we’ll get to the real reason you’re all here,” the priest said, breaking into their silent communion. “But first let me ask all who are gathered here an important question. Is there anyone here who objects to this marriage? If so, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Silence fell, making the sudden outraged shriek from their baby’s miniature lungs echo all the louder.

“We’ll assume that’s his way of objecting to his place on the sidelines and not to his parents’ matrimony,” the priest joked as the room erupted with laughter.

“Well, let’s fix that.” Becky giggled, and motioned for her mother to bring the baby forward. “After all, he’s part of this family, too.”

Once he was settled on her hip, the angry cries turned into contented coos.

“All right. Now that we’re all settled,” the priest said, “do you, Becky, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to care for him and keep him, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, all the days of your life?”

“I do,” she said softly, and Mark’s heart swelled.

“And do you, Mark, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to care for her and keep her, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, all the days of your life?”

“You bet I do,” he said, putting his whole heart into every word.

“Then it is my honor to proclaim you husband and wife. Mark, you may kiss the bride.”

Mark gathered her to him, careful not to dislodge the baby from her hip. “Now you’re mine,” he whispered, and pressed his lips to hers, silently communicating his joy.

“I always was,” she whispered against his mouth.

Alex chortled happily as they broke apart, and, laughing, Mark bent to kiss his cheek.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am overjoyed to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Powers!”

The small crowd rose to its feet and applauded.

Looking around at the sea of happy faces, Mark felt at peace. Love might be a gamble, but he was pretty sure he’d hit the jackpot.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from SHE’S SO OVER HIM by Joss Wood

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ONE

‘Nice tattoo, Mad.’

The voice came from out of the blue, clear and distinguishable despite the high volume of noise in the bar. Such a luscious voice—deep, smooth, compelling. Like hot chocolate after a freezing walk in the winter rain, she thought as her heart rollercoastered inside her rib cage.

Maddie Shaw flicked a glance to her left and there he was, leaning against the bar counter, a bright blonde barnacle superglued to his side. Hot damn, her memory wasn’t playing tricks on her. It
was
Cale Grant and—oh, heaven help her—he’d moved up from very good-looking to stupid-making hot. Long and lanky had turned into long and strong. Instead of the ponytail she remembered, his naturally streaky blond hair was cropped so that the ends brushed the open collar of his shirt, and the goatee he’d sported on his stubborn chin was gone.

His eyes flicked over her and she watched, mortified, as they stopped at her chest. The tight sleeveless top with the image of a camp queen splayed across it was cut low enough to reveal the edges of her tangerine bra, way more than necessary of her cleavage, and most of the teeny-tiny red butterfly that she’d acquired in a fit of pique shortly after her last conversation with this same man.

‘Cale Grant. Wow. Hi.’

And lift your eyes up, bud,
she silently suggested,
or I might have to hurt you.

Resisting the urge to tug up her bra, she met those fantastic eyes—the colour of old-fashioned blue ink. A deep blue that sometimes looked black. Or cobalt. Maddie had always loved his eyes...

She gestured to the bar. ‘What can I get you?’

Cale snagged a barstool from under the bottom of a departing drinker. As his date, a mature blue-eyed blonde, arranged her very curvaceous body onto the barstool, Maddie filled another order and turned back to Cale, to find him dissecting her with that intense look she remembered so well.

‘What on earth are you doing?’

Maddie looked around her in fake bewilderment. ‘I don’t know. Raising goats? Computer programming? Macramé?’

‘I meant, Miss Smarty Pants, what are you doing behind a bar?’

Maddie lifted dark winged eyebrows. ‘I know what you meant.’

‘Well? Ten years ago you were doing a degree in Marketing and Communications. Had plans to do your Masters. So why this?’

Maddie sighed as Cale added one and one and got a hundred and two. She kept her answer short. ‘It’s a job. What can I get you to drink?’

‘A glass of Chardonnay and a draught—’

‘Maddie—oh, Maddie!’

Cale’s words were drowned out by a yell from the back of the crowd of customers waiting to be served. The booming voice was loud and compelling enough to immediately snag her attention. Maddie laughed as her thin, gangly neighbour good-naturedly pushed his way through the bodies to sink against the bar.

‘Hey, gorgeous!’

‘Hey, back.’ Maddie boosted herself up on the bar and leaned across the counter to kiss first one rough cheek and then the other. ‘Nat, I’ve missed you! And here I was, desperate for someone interesting to show up.’

‘I have so much to tell you. Jo’burg was fabulous... Thanks for the tip about that bakery in Melville. We’re in the back booth; join us when you have a break.’ Nat planted a kiss on her mouth and tapped her nose before melting back into the crowd.

Maddie dropped back to her feet and sent Cale a bland smile, ignoring his narrowed eyes at her not so subtle jibe.

‘Sorry, what did you want? A Chardonnay and a—?’

‘Draught beer.’ Cale sent her a feral smile. ‘Still a chronic flirt, Maddie?’

Maddie shrugged and reached for a bottle of house wine. ‘Well, I did learn at the seat of the master. You taught me so well.’

‘I—’ Cale’s mouth snapped shut when his companion laid her diamond-encrusted fingers on his sleeve and leaned forward, so that he had a perfect view down the continental divide in her shirt. She whispered something in his ear before sliding off the seat and walking towards the restrooms.

Maddie uncorked the bottle of Chardonnay and glugged the contents into a sparkling glass. ‘So, I see that you still do all your shopping at Blondes R Us?’

Maddie caught the quick grin he couldn’t hide and wistfully remembered how he’d loved her dry sense of humour. Even if it was at his expense. ‘She’s...sweet. Not really my type, but sweet.’

‘How can she not be your type? You always went for the tanned, stacked blondes.’

She clearly remembered the long-legged, long-haired creatures who had followed Cale, his twin, Oliver, and their sports-mad friends around, their tongues dragging on the floor.

Judging by what she’d read and heard over the years, he still seemed only to date a wide variety of the fairer section of her sex.

It was a point of pride—or idiocy—that he’d once broken the mould with her.

Maddie sent him a sly smile. ‘Okay, I’ll play... If she’s not your type, why are you buying her a drink and allowing her to bat her eyelashes at you?’

Cale stared past her shoulder and Maddie thought she caught a flash of embarrassment whip across his face. ‘She’s an...obligation I have to fulfil.’

Maddie’s curiosity was piqued. He wasn’t the type of man who felt obligated easily. ‘Did you lose a bet? A blind date? A favour to a friend?’

Cale scowled at her. ‘I haven’t seen you for ten years. Can’t we find something else to talk about other than my love-life?’

‘Why, when your love-life helps fill the social pages every week?’

‘It was three times in three months, not every week. I just wish they’d leave me alone.’

‘They would if you got your pretty face off TV and out of the public eye.’ Maddie leaned across the bar and condescendingly patted his hand. ‘And maybe if you stuck to one woman for more than a month nobody would actually care who you are dating!’ Maddie countered his annoyed glare with a wide smile.

‘Are you quite done?’ he demanded.

Maddie shrugged as she put a beer stein under the tap and pulled the lever, feeling her face heat as he watched her. He still had the ability to make her skin prickle...

Cale tapped his finger against the bar before taking the beer she slid across the bar. He ran a blunt finger around the rim. ‘It’s been a long time.’

Maddie nodded as she took an order for a margarita and a Cosmopolitan from two slick women who were happily drunk and singing along with the house band in the corner. Maddie waited until they’d moved off before flashing Cale a searching look, even as she kept serving drinks, knowing that she couldn’t afford to take a break on a busy Friday night.

‘What are you doing in this neck of the woods? Or have you moved to this side of the mountain?’

‘I’m still in the same house. I heard about this place a while ago and thought I’d try it out. Can you stop for a minute so that we can have a non-interrupted conversation?’

A burly man shouted his order at Maddie and bumped Cale’s shoulder at the same time. Cale sent him a look that caused him to step back a pace. Cale, Maddie noticed, still radiated harnessed power. It made men wary and women hot.

She brought her attention back to the conversation. ‘Sorry, can’t do that. This place is going to start pumping soon.’

Cale looked around in astonishment. ‘It’s already full!’

‘This is nothing!’ Maddie shouted back as a roar went up from a rowdy group of students in the corner.

When the worst of the shouting fell away, she placed her elbows on the bar and leaned closer to Cale. She couldn’t ignore it any longer. She had to say something. Even if they’d had nothing more than a brief acquaintance, common decency dictated it. What words to use? What did you say to someone who’d lost his twin so horribly?

She decided to keep it simple. ‘I’m so, so sorry about Oliver. He was an utterly amazing man.’

Privately Maddie had always thought that Oliver was a modern-day Icarus—a wild, impetuous free spirit who flew too close to the sun. His death hadn’t surprised her; the fact that it had been due to cancer had.

Cale looked past her shoulder and she saw the muscle jump in his jaw, a heavy curtain fall in his eyes. His eyes dropped to look at her hand, clasping his thick tanned wrist. ‘Thanks.’

He was warm and strong, and she could feel his steady pulse under the ridges of her fingertips.

‘Hey, Maddie!’

Maddie jerked her hand away and turned to look at Dan, the other bartender. ‘Yes?’

‘We’re running short on house wine. Can you cover me while I get more?’

Maddie thought that a supply run would be the perfect excuse to recover her shaky equilibrium and to break the intensity of the last minute. Who would have thought that Cale could, a decade later, still accelerate her hormones with one navy-eyed look? She was still obviously—and sadly—a sucker for his hard body and attractive face.

It was just chemistry, she decided hastily. A normal reaction to a very sexy man—which in itself was vastly reassuring. She hadn’t felt the tug of attraction, the prickling of feminine awareness for too long. This was good, given her lack of interest in men and sex these past three years. Hell, she was practically a nun! Well, except for no habit and the lack of devotion...

His was a good-looking face and a sexy body. That was what she was responding to. Nothing else. She’d grown out of her infatuation with sporty womanisers ten years ago.

Probably.

‘I’ll go. I need a bathroom break anyway,’ Maddie told Dan, and turned back to the bar and lifted her hands in a gesture of apology. ‘Five minutes, guys.’

Steeling herself not to look back at Cale, she stumbled through the door that led to the kitchen and hooked a left to the staff bathrooms of the Laughing Queen.

Jim, owner of the LQ, good friend and entirely too curious about her love-life, bustled up to her as she reached the Ladies’. ‘Dish, dish, dish. Who
is
he?’

‘You are such a girl!’ Maddie mock scowled at him and drilled a finger into his chest. ‘I’d like it put on record that this is what happens when I do you a favour!’

She banged through the door of the Ladies’ and rolled her eyes when Jim ambled in after her. Maddie looked at her reflection in the mirror above the washroom taps and grimaced. In the heat and humidity of the bar, the hair that she’d spent an age straightening that morning had sprung back into wild corkscrew curls, and she’d sweated off every trace of makeup except for—naturally—a streak of mascara under each eye, which made her look like an astonished raccoon.

‘He is smoking hot! Any chance that he’s gay?’ Jim demanded. His shoulders slumped at her cutting glare. ‘Okay, so not gay. Who is he?’

‘First lover.’

‘First as in...the
first
first? Oooh...and you’re looking like that?’ Jim waved his hands at her and shuddered.

‘Obviously I would’ve preferred meeting him again dressed in a fabulous black dress, killer heels and great hair!
Not
wearing my faded Levi’s and this stupid tight LQ T-shirt,’ Maddie retorted. ‘And if you weren’t short of a bartender on a Friday night I could at the very least be on the other side of the bar, sipping martinis and not serving them.’

Maddie, seeing that Jim was settling in for a gossip, thought she’d give him the high-speed version to satisfy his immediate curiosity.

‘Met him when in my first year at uni. He was doing his PhD in Sports Psychology and some part-time work for the uni’s sports department after hopping around the world for a couple of years. We had a very short relationship. Booted him. The end. Now, go away.’

Jim tapped her chin with his index finger. ‘Mmm...if that was all that was to it, then I’m a monkey’s uncle. You will give me
all
the deets later, Miss M.’

If only it had been that simple, Maddie thought as Jim left. Her relationship with Cale had been anything but. As she’d become part of Cale’s group of friends—older than her, but not necessarily wiser—she’d watched and shaken her head as Cale turned over women with the speed of a spinning top. She had nodded when said women called him a heartless bastard for dumping them, and rolled her eyes when he’d charmed them into being friends again.

Then the man she’d laughed, talked and played with, who was the life and soul of any party, who thought commitment was spending six hours with a girl, had turned those gorgeous eyes on her and said that he thought it was time they ‘stopped messing around and hooked up’.

His exact words. Mr
So
-Not-Romantic. It should have been a big clue...but she’d allowed him to cajole her into a relationship—handed him her virginity, for crying in a bucket!—despite knowing that he’d be an utterly horrible, comprehensively catastrophic boyfriend. She’d thought
she’d
be the one to change him.

This reminded her how, for a smart girl, she could be amazingly idiotic on occasion.

After wiping the mascara from under her eyes, she splashed water on her face and pulled a long clip from the back of her jeans. Pulling her sable-shaded hair into a rough tail, she twisted it and clipped it to the back of her head in a messy knot. There was nothing she could do about her heightened colour
or
the past, she told herself. And right now she had a job to do.

Maddie plucked up her courage, plastered a fake smile on her face and walked towards the store room.

Back in the bar, she dumped a box of wine under the bar and passed Dan two bottles, idly noticing that Cale’s date had to hold the record for the longest bathroom visit. She took an order before tossing him a casual comment.

‘Are you still doing triathlons?’

He had to be. Under the steel-grey buttoned-down shirt he wore she could see that his shoulders were as broad, and his forearms beneath the rolled-up sleeves were tanned and corded with muscle.

Cale nodded. ‘Occasionally. I switched to adventure racing.’

‘Which is?’

‘Triathlons on acid. Trail running, cycling, paddling and orienteering. Climbing,’ Cale replied, and looked frustrated when she had to turn away to serve a customer.

Maddie caught a glimpse of his date as she made her tottering way back to the bar, and lifted her chin to give Cale a heads-up.