Choosing You (Thirsty Hearts Book 2)

by Kris Jayne

  Taryn sighed reverently. “I love these Victorians painted all different colors. It makes me wish we lived somewhere with some older architecture.” Dallas didn’t grow to prominence until the latter half of the twentieth century, and most of the buildings and homes reflected that. The painted wood home reminded her of her grandmother’s house near her childhood hometown of Lawton, Oklahoma.

  A carved wooden sign read, “Strasburg Tasting Room.” Taryn bounded up the steps of the vineyard’s estate house with an enthusiasm befitting her stature before turning back as Jeff remotely locking the car and hustled behind her.

  Taryn impressed Jeff with her energy. The rain continued to fall in slow, fat drops, matching his growing somnolence. The past couple of days had thrown so many meetings and decisions at him that Jeff’s mind scrambled. He might need some more coffee before sousing himself with wine. The tiny jolt he felt when he met Taryn’s crystal blue eyes propelled him forward.

  To be honest, he hadn’t been that stressed about the wedding. All he cared about was being married. The getting married part held little import for him—except that he knew Taryn had a picture in her head of the perfect wedding day.

  The vision had been with her since she’d run through the dusty fields of farmland where she grew up in southwestern Oklahoma. Thus, the venue, the decorations, the ceremony, and the enjoyment of each guest were paramount to her. Taryn’s stress bloomed as they moved into the New Year without every detail beaten into submission.

  From Jeff’s perspective, this weekend was about eliminating Taryn’s freak out factor and getting her to relax. He followed Taryn through the door and saw a pert, older woman advancing toward them, her shoes thumping on the dark, well-worn hardwood floors.

  “Welcome to Strasbourg Winery. You must be the woman I spoke to on the phone.” The attendant shook Taryn’s hand and smiled at Jeff. “You look just like you sounded. Cute as a button! I’m Marina Roberts. I handle our tastings and tours.”

  Marina led the couple into the tasting room and set up them up with their first flight.

  Jeff swirled the wine in the glass, more mimicking Marina than knowing what he was doing. He’d done tastings before—mostly with Taryn, who loved any and all things wine. Having their wedding in Napa was practically a given. Jeff didn’t mind.

  He had family in Sacramento, friends in Silicon Valley, and no one minded a visit to wine country. Jeff brought the glass of golden liquid to his nose to sniff and comment just as his phone buzzed on his hip. He took a swallow of wine, and it buzzed again. He looked at the screen.

  “It’s the lawyer.” Jeff apologized and stepped away from the tasting bar.

  He hoped Harold had good news. The only fly in the ointment of starting their life together was the sum of his past mistakes. Not that his daughter was a mistake, but her mother certainly had been one. Jeff made a point never to say as much to Olivia. He told her that her mother was sick. Too sick to visit. Too sick to call. But not too sick to love her.

  As his daughter got older, it was getting harder to explain where her mother was. He once thought he’d tell her Shannon was dead. For all the good Shannon did Olivia, the drug addict might as well be. But she wasn’t, and Jeff didn’t want to lie. She’d pulled a disappearing act before Olivia was even eighteen months old.

  He’d seen his former wife once since and only because he tracked her down to serve her with divorce and custody papers. What he hadn’t asked for was for Shannon to give up Olivia altogether.

  Now, that’s precisely what he wanted.

  Before Taryn could adopt, Shannon had to terminate her parental rights. Practically speaking, it made sense for Taryn to have formal responsibility for Olivia after the wedding. His mother helped him out, picking Olivia up from school whenever he couldn’t and staying with her until he got home from work. But, a grandmother isn’t a mother. Taryn would be there every day and was already taking over as a mother figure.

  Jeff didn’t want the adoption merely for practicality though. He wanted to give his daughter a real family. Being a single father often filled him with guilt about the ways he couldn’t be all he needed to be for Olivia.

  What did he know about being a little girl? He did his best, but his daughter lacked the skills and knowledge only a woman could teach her. When he thought “feminine,” he thought putting bows in her hair and buying her pink clothes. He knew that eventually throwing random markers of girldom at her wouldn’t be enough. Olivia would need a woman’s advice and influence.

  So a few months after he proposed, he contacted his attorney and discussed what he needed to do to terminate Shannon’s parental rights and open the door for a formal adoption. It wouldn’t be easy. On one hand, Shannon had abandoned Olivia and shown no interest. For the first couple of years after she left, Jeff tried to keep track of her, but it was nearly impossible.

  As a foster child, Shannon had no contact with biological relatives. Her troubled teen years caused her to wear out her welcome with her foster family. She never had any mooring in the northeast suburb of Richardson, where they finished high school, and once she left, there was no reason for her to return. He didn’t even know where she was.

  The last time he found her, she was living in Houston with four other questionable characters in what amounted to a filthy drug den. He only found her because her name was on the lease. Now, even that modicum of stability was long gone.

  Jeff and his lawyer debated what they’d do when they found her. Jeff thought he should just go to court and have her declared unfit. His attorney thought it best to stay out of court if possible. She might give up her rights voluntarily in exchange for escaping child support obligations. But just contacting her might open up a can of worms. The decision wore on Jeff. Another reminder of how immature he’d been to fall for the free-spirited and reckless girl Shannon had been—and likely still was.

  Jeff sighed. “Harold? Any news?”

  “Some. My investigator Rick found a possible address for Shannon. It turns out she’s been using another name. Instead of Clifton, we’ve found a record of a Shannon Nelson using her Social. We thought maybe she was married in another state, but we searched. There’s no marriage license. However, she has presented herself as being married to a guy named Wayne Nelson. We got a current hit for Shannon Nelson in Mineola.”

  “That’s not far.”

  “No. It isn’t. Rick is going out there tomorrow to confirm her identity. Shannon Nelson works as a sales clerk at the local Wal-Mart. We’ll check her job and the address we have for her.”

  “She’s working. That’s new.”

  “Yes. Appears she’s worked at the Wal-Mart for a little over six months.”

  “What do you think? This sounds like it’s probably her. Do you still think we should approach her about signing the papers?”

  “I know you’re hesitant, but that’s the best way to go. Involving the courts can be a crap shoot. While you think it’s clear that she’s unfit and has abandoned Olivia, judges loathe to terminate a parent’s rights. If she’s steadily employed, that’s a point in her favor. She has been arrested within the past year on drug offenses, but she completed a ninety-day, court-ordered drug program. The first time she’s completed one without reoffending.”

  Jeff glanced over his shoulder at Taryn. The petite blonde tipped her glass forward, looking at the color and legs of the wine. Taryn had class and culture and regular employment for much longer than six months. She’d never needed rehab. Taryn was the steady female influence he needed for Olivia.

  Maybe Shannon was finally getting her life in order. He hoped so. He never wanted anything bad to happen to his ex-wife. Nothing more than had already happened to her when she lived in abusive home after abusive home growing up. Her parents failed her, as did numerous foster parents who took in kids for the state money.

  By the time she’d landed in a good home, she hadn’t known how to manage being somewhere safe and secure. Good people were foreign to her. Always were.
She kept testing the limits of people’s goodness.

  “What about this quasi-husband? Who is he?”

  “He’s trouble is what he is. Rap sheet as long as the Trinity River, but deeper. Pretty serious stuff. Assaults, burglaries, robberies, domestics, sexual misconducts. The list goes on and on. His record indicates some ties to white supremacy as well, but that might be associations during his stints in prison. If he’s in the picture, it’s not a good thing.”

  Jeff ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. “I don’t want anyone like that anywhere near my family, Harold. Should we file papers on the child support or what?”

  “No. I say we don’t file anything yet. Let Rick do his thing. He can look around and get a sense of where she is in her life before we decide what to do. But I would suggest we move fairly quickly. You don’t want this to drag on. With your company close to being sold, you’ll want to get her agreement before the news hits the papers. You don’t want your windfall to muddy the waters.”

  Jeff chuckled. Windfall? He and his partners had worked like demons the past few years to build their mobile application platform, demonstrating new applications and attracting investment. The deals they had in the works weren’t serendipitous.

  He’d earned the success he’d found, and now, they were on the precipice of selling the business either to one of the country’s largest tech firms or a private equity firm. Whichever bidder they chose, it would mean millions of dollars for each of the principal partners.

  Jeff’s neck and shoulders tightened. He glanced over at Taryn, who looked back with concern.

  “Look, Harold. I’ve got to go. I’m at a winery, and Taryn is giving me the eye. We’re supposed to be having a relaxing afternoon.”

  “Didn’t mean to interrupt, but I wanted to let you know what we’ve found.”

  “No. It’s not a problem. I’m glad you called. I’ll think things over. Let me know if you find out anything else,” Jeff commanded. “I appreciate all you’ve done, really.”

  “I know, son. And listen, we’ll get this straightened out. There’s no way Shannon is in a position to win a court battle. It’s just better for everyone to avoid that kind of aggravation. Trust me.”

  Jeff believed Harold’s advice was likely correct, and he thanked him again before saying goodbye. Rejoining Taryn at the tasting counter, Jeff faced her anxious eyes.

  “What’s going on? Something going on with the sale?”

  “No. Not the sale. That was Harold. He has a lead on Shannon.” Jeff braced for Taryn’s response. Talking about Shannon tended to make her hyper.

  “Did he find her? So where is she this time? Is she out of jail? I thought the last you’d heard she was in jail. I mean, I guess, that was a couple of years ago.” Taryn put her glass down and leaned forward in her seat. “You know what? I don’t want to talk about it. You can fill me in later. I’m having too good a day to talk about that woman.”

  Happy to oblige Taryn with a change of subject, Jeff sat down and waved Marina over for the next wine sample.

  “Can we taste some champagne? My fiancée loves champagne.”

  “Of course, sir. We have a beautiful selection of sparkling wines. These four are available for tasting.” The tasting room host slid over a menu.

  “Let’s do the flight and try them all,” Jeff suggested.

  “Sounds good to me,” Taryn agreed.

  Chapter Three

  “Bubbles shouldn’t make me this happy.” Taryn giggled.

  The car came to a stop in front of the Villagio Inn in Yountville. After checking out a couple other hotels in the area, they had settled on the Villagio as their hotel-spa home for the weekend, and for their wedding guests. The rooms might be pricey for some of their relatives, but Jeff had agreed to supplement the room rates so more of their family could afford to attend. Taryn wanted everyone at the same hotel if possible to facilitate transportation and logistics for their wedding activities.

  Jeff laughed. “Your love of champagne knows no bounds.”

  “Sparkling wine, Jeff. Only wine from the Champagne region in France can be labeled champagne. We learned that in France last year.”

  “Are you drunk?”

  “No. Well, maybe a little buzzed. Mainly, I think I’m just high on the fact that the wedding is finally shaping up. In six months, I’ll be Mrs. Taryn McConnell. That makes me happier than the bubbles.”

  Taryn slid her hand over Jeff’s knee and squeezed. She trailed it up his thigh and squeezed again. Jeff hissed with a sharp breath. Twisting around in the driver’s seat, he leaned over the center console, pulled Taryn toward him, and captured her mouth. She snaked her hands up his chest and slipped her fingers inside the collar of his shirt and up the side of his neck.

  A layer of late-afternoon stubble had emerged on Jeff’s jawline and cheek, adding a delicious friction to their kiss. He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. Taryn’s body melted. His left hand found the zipper of her rain jacket and yanked it down.

  In the next moment, he found the hem of her sweater and lifted it up. His strong fingers left trails of heat up her belly and across her ribs. Jeff tugged on her bra strap, but the angles in the tight front seat of their mid-size rental didn’t cooperate. Maybe they should have rented the SUV, Taryn thought, as Jeff pulled back, breathless and lightly touching his lips to her cheek.

  “We have a very nice hotel room upstairs,” he murmured into her neck. “I think we need to get there. Now.”

  Taryn zipped her jacket and jumped out of the car. Jeff waited for her at the door of the hotel lobby and ushered her through to the elevator. He stood behind her, and Taryn leaned back into him. She planted her head in the center of his broad chest and tipped it back to look up at him as he towered over her. He grinned at her and dipped down to drop a kiss on her forehead.

  God, she loved how tall he was. She disappeared into his arms and let the warm, spiced scent of him envelop her. He’d borrowed her scented lotion this morning, having forgotten his own. How could something that smelled so feminine on her be so masculine on him that she felt like dropping to her knees when the elevator door opened? That would give hotel security a show.

  Jeff continued to hold her in front of him as the elevator arrive and they stepped in, letting the doors close behind them. Taryn arched and flexed her back, the barely concealed hardness in Jeff’s jeans pressing into her.

  “I’m cursing security cameras right now.”

  “I’m cursing you,” Jeff replied. “You’re driving me crazy. I still have to make it down the hall, you know. If only I had a math book or something to hold in front of me.”

  Taryn laughed.

  They barely made it to their room and just inside the door before all hell broke wonderfully loose. As soon as the heavy wooden door swung shut, Taryn unzipped her jacket and spun around. Jeff reached for her, sliding his hands under her sweater and pulled it off over her head. Not waiting to unhook it, he pushed the straps of her bra down her shoulders and tugged down to spring her small, round breasts free. His warm, rough hands on her breasts tightened her nipples.

  Taryn dropped her head back. A moan crawled up her throat. Her eyes closed. She couldn’t see, but she heard Jeff’s ragged breath. He scooped his forearms under her ass and pushed her back against the wall.

  The moist heat of his breath on her neck and the sharp pinch of his teeth turned her to liquid. Giving herself to the indulgence of his roaming mouth temporarily crushed the impatience she felt to get her hands on him. Jeff moved his mouth lower and stilled on her right breast. He took a long, intense, sucking tug on the tender flesh, stroking it with his tongue. Time froze. Then, he repeated his attention on her left breast.

  The laziness of pleasure faded as desire swelled inside her. Taryn couldn’t just go along for the ride. She pushed against Jeff’s shoulder. He pressed forward to, once again, focus on her breasts. Taryn pushed him back again, and he dropped her to her feet. Taryn took his chin in her hands to ke
ep him at bay. Leaning in, she kissed his chest in the V of his neckline. Releasing his face, she grabbed at his shirt, the buttons straining as she plucked them open one after the other.

  With each inch of skin revealed, she planted another kiss—all the way down to the waistband of his jeans. Now kneeling before him—still in the entryway of their hotel room—Taryn flattened her hands on his rippled belly and worked open the button of his jeans.

  She paused to reach behind her and unhooked her bra to move her closer to her goal of getting them both completely naked. Throwing the scrap of lace in the corner, she returned to Jeff’s jeans. He unzipped them and stepped out, having already thrown his shirt in the direction of Taryn’s bra. She slid his navy boxer briefs over his muscled thighs and took the tip of his taut erection between her lips.

  Jeff tipped backward, catching himself on wall behind him in the narrow entry to the room. Very little gave Taryn as large a thrill as feeling Jeff lose control as she took him in her mouth. The taste of him. The sounds he made. Her right hand slipped over Jeff’s hip. His body was hot and tense. His fingers tangled in her hair, giving her head a slight pull, then a firmer one.

  Without a word, he pulled her to her feet and lifted her up. She linked her arms around his neck and locked her legs around his waist. He gripped her tight and walked until he stopped at the bed, where he lowered her backward. Their bodies separated for mere seconds before he came after her. He kissed her hard, his tongue invading her mouth and taking hers captive as he plunged between her legs. Taryn gasped into Jeff’s mouth.

  He stilled for a moment, and Taryn savored the rigid feel of him. He lifted his hips and slid into her again. The friction sent a ravaging heat throughout her body. Her hands roamed down his back and gripped his ass. The thrill of familiar sensations hit her a new way each time he thrust into her.

  Jeff buried his face in the pale golden pool of her hair. He trailed a thumb up the crook of her neck and behind her ear before tracing the ridge. She heaved waves of hot breath on his chest as he pressed her back into the bed. The sweet pressure swelled inside her, bringing her to the edge of sanity. Jeff’s pace increased.