Ted nodded somberly. “It’s a burden, that’s for sure.”

She smiled and gazed across the yard toward the new barbecue pit, where her parents were chatting with a slightly awestruck Temple and Max. “Being married to Panda is a lot easier,” Lucy said.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Ted replied. “He kind of scares me.”

“He does no such thing, but I’m sure he’d take that as a compliment.”

Ted squeezed her shoulder. “It’s good we weren’t this comfortable with each other when we were engaged, or that wedding might really have happened.”

They both shuddered.

Meg and Panda came toward them. Who could have imagined that her surly bodyguard would have turned into such an exemplary husband?

Because Meg had been a terrible influence on Ted, he planted a kiss on top of Lucy’s head just to see if he could make trouble. That backfired, however, because Lucy liked to cause trouble, too. “Your husband is hitting on me,” she called out to her best friend. “By the way, how does it feel to be his second choice?”

Meg offered up her smart-aleck smirk. “I could totally have had Panda if you hadn’t pulled your disappearing act. He was definitely coming on to me the night of your so-called rehearsal dinner.”

“Well … You did look hot that night,” Lucy agreed while Panda and Ted swapped glances that declared them both the most fortunate and the most put-upon of spouses.

“It’s weird,” Meg said. “We should so be married to each other’s husbands.”

This time all four of them shuddered.

“I’ll tell you what’s weird.” Bree came up next to them, Mike at her side, a sleeping baby tucked in the Snugli he wore as proudly as an athletic jersey. “The four of you. I’ve never seen such strange relationships. Mike, aren’t they all a little weird.”

“Now, Bree … Some people might say that about us.”

“You’re too good to be true.” Bree gave him a private smile that locked out the rest of the world.

Toby peeled away from his friends. “He’s not that good. He got into my M&M’s stash last night.”

Mike grinned, grabbed Toby around the neck, and gave his head a gentle knuckle rub without disturbing Toby’s baby brother. “You need to find a better hiding place, son.”

In the past three years, Toby had shot up ten inches, and girls had started calling the house, which drove Bree crazy. But Toby had his head screwed on remarkably straight for a fifteen-year-old, and Lucy wasn’t worried.

Between babies and blossoming careers, they’d experienced so many wonderful changes in their lives. But there had been difficult times, too. Lucy still grieved the loss of her grandfather Litchfield, and Bree had miscarried early in her first pregnancy. Fortunately, the joyous birth of Jonathan David Moody a little over a year later had eased the pain.

One of the changes that had most shocked everyone except Lucy had been Panda’s decision to hire more employees so he could go back to school for a counseling degree. He now took only the security jobs that kept him near home and devoted the rest of his time to the more important work of helping other wounded warriors get their lives back, something he discovered he had a talent for.

Lucy found that motherhood meshed well with her growing writing career. She was a natural storyteller with an inherent ability to make the lives of the kids she helped come alive. She’d just started her third book, this one focusing on the eighteen- and nineteen-year-olds who’d aged out of foster care and had no place to go. She’d also become the go-to authority on at-risk children, which made her a popular guest on television news and talk shows. At the same time, she continued to work one-on-one as a volunteer at a Chicago drop-in center so she didn’t lose touch with the work she loved the most.

Other than their family, the biggest project she and Panda had undertaken was the island summer camp they’d nearly finished building on the land where Panda had once had his brooding place. The camp would allow siblings who’d been separated in foster care to spend a few precious weeks together every summer. It would also serve as a retreat for troubled veterans and their families as they struggled to find a new normal in their lives. Panda and Lucy understood exactly how many difficulties they’d face dealing with so many kids and adults in crisis, but they’d hired some extraordinary people to help out, and neither of them was afraid of a challenge.

The camp was being funded by the Litchfield-Jorik foundation, whose assets had grown substantially after Lucy turned over a large portion of the money she’d inherited from her grandfather. “There goes our yacht,” Panda had said when the paperwork was finished.

But between his business and Lucy’s writing career, they were financially comfortable, and neither of them had any interest in a more luxurious lifestyle. Nor did their imp of a daughter, who was perfectly happy clomping around in whatever pair of shoes her parents had left out.

Panda’s bodyguard instincts kicked in seconds before Lucy’s maternal ears perked up. “I’ll get him,” he said.

Lucy nodded and headed instead for their two-year-old daughter, who was gleefully attempting to snatch a bedraggled stuffed dinosaur from a loudly protesting miniature replica of Ted Beaudine. Panda reached the screen porch where his son had been napping. The baby quieted as Panda put him to his shoulder, and the old house that had once felt so unwelcome seemed to embrace them both. He gazed out at his yard, where the people who meant everything to him had gathered.

Lucy had managed to distract their daughter, a pint-size lion tamer with Panda’s dark curls and her mother’s adventurous spirit. The afternoon ferry chugged toward the harbor. A pair of gulls swooped over the water in search of a meal. Lucy lifted her head and looked toward the porch. As their gazes met, her mouth curled in a soft smile of contentment that made his heart swell.

Be the best at what you’re good at.

Who could have known he’d be so good at this?

Author’s Note

You readers are a pushy lot! After I wrote Fancy Pants and Lady Be Good, you demanded to see more of the delectable Ted Beaudine, and after I wrote First Lady, you demanded to see more of Lucy Jorik. It seemed so logical to hook them up in Call Me Irresistible … Oh, well … We know how that worked out. I hope you’re as happy as I am that Lucy finally got her own book.

In a career that’s been as blessedly long as mine, so many people have cheered me on and held me up—family; friends; my longtime editor, the wise and wonderful Carrie Feron; the incomparable teams at HarperCollins, William Morrow, and Avon Books who are incredibly generous with me. An overdue thank-you to my ever-patient copy editor, Shelly Perron. Anything that slips past her is, unfortunately, my fault. The same goes for my incredibly able assistant, the remarkable Sharon Mitchell.

What could I have done without my writing buddies: Lindsay Longford, Robyn Carr, Jennifer Greene, Kristin Hannah, Jayne Ann Krentz, Cathie Linz, Suzette Vandeweile, Julie Wachowski, and Margaret Watson? I’ve been very fortunate to have Steve Axelrod and Lori Antonson as my agents for lo these many years. I’m grateful to my publishers all over the world who have treated my books so well. A special thank-you to Nicola Bartels, Inge Kunzelmann, and the phenomenal team at Blanvalet Verlag in Munich. Alles Liebe!

Additional thanks to all those who helped me with The Great Escape. Nicki Anderson, your life-affirming work as a trainer couldn’t be more different from that of a certain character in this book. My sister, Lydia Kihm, is an inspiration as she shares her passion for the work of Teens Alone, a superb Minnesota-based organization that does so much to help at-risk kids. Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel Victor Markell, United States Army, for helping me out. And John Roscich, I continue to be grateful for your willingness to guide my characters through their various legal troubles.

To my readers … I love the many ways the Internet lets me connect with all of you around the world. If you haven’t yet found me on Facebook or Twitter, please say hello. If you’d like to keep abreast of my public appearances and future books, please sign up for my newsletter at www.susanelizabethphillips.com.

Happy reading,

Susan Elizabeth Phillips

About the Author

SUSAN ELIZABETH PHILLIPS soared onto the New York Times bestseller list with Dream a Little Dream. She’s the only four-time recipient of the Romance Writers of America’s prestigious Favorite Book of the Year Award. A resident of the Chicago suburbs, she is also a hiker, gardener, reader, wife, and mother of two grown sons.

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Also by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

Call Me Irresistible

What I Did for Love

Glitter Baby

Natural Born Charmer

Match Me If You Can

Ain’t She Sweet?

Breathing Room

This Heart of Mine

Just Imagine

First Lady

Lady Be Good

Dream a Little Dream

Nobody’s Baby but Mine

Kiss an Angel

Heaven, Texas

It Had to Be You

Credits

COVER DESIGN BY MUMTAZ MUSTAFA

COVER PHOTOGRAPHS: BRIDE BY BRAD MILLER/ALAMY;

ROSES BY GAP/SUPERSTOCK

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

THE GREAT ESCAPE. Copyright © 2012 by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

FIRST EDITION

ISBN 978-0-06-210606-3 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-0-06-220388-5 (international edition)

EPub Edition © JULY 2012 ISBN: 9780062106100

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