Their Child?

by Christine Rimmer

“Did you want a summit meeting?”

  The tinge of amusement in his voice rankled. “Maybe I did. You’re making decisions for both girls…and for me.”

  His face went somber. “Is that really the problem?”

  “Yes. We’re living in your house. We’re on your turf. Until those DNA results come in, Abby is still my daughter and I’m still her mother. I make decisions for her.”

  “Is it troubling you that they’re acting like sisters?”

  She took a step back so they wouldn’t be so close…so she wouldn’t feel his body heat. “Yes, it’s bothering me. They’re getting closer every day. What happens when we have to tear them apart?”

  “I know you don’t want to, but you have to consider shared custody. Along with that, we have to consider whether we should keep the girls together when they’re with one of us, or each take one and then switch after six months.” His expression was unreadable.

  “Is it so cut and dried for you?” Her heart was breaking at the thought of being separated from Abby, by not having her own daughter with her constantly if what Chase suspected was true.

  “Cut and dried? Do you think I want to give up either girl for any length of time? Mothers don’t have the market cornered on bonds. If you moved to Pennsylvania, everything would be a lot easier,” he snapped.

  “I have a business in Florida. I have friends there. So does Abby…along with a support system that’s all set up. I had to move my life once. I don’t relish doing it again.”

  “Why did you move to Florida?” Chase asked, his eyes penetrating, looking for the truth.

  She wasn’t about to tell him all of the truth. “Kara was there. We’d always talked about going into business together. It seemed to be the perfect time.”

  “So you were running toward something rather than away from something?”

  Without answering, she asked, “What about you? When you moved to Willow Creek, were you running away from something or toward something?”

  His silent frown told her he didn’t appreciate the question. Finally he admitted, “At first I thought it was my duty. My mother needed my help. Sales were down. She didn’t know what to do about the harvest and the whole process. She’s not a wine-maker. She also didn’t know if she wanted to keep the vineyard or sell it. I told her I’d help her make the decisions.”

  “You said at first that’s why you came.”

  “After I’d been here a few months, I realized I’d been in a rut back in D.C. I’d been trying to keep my life the same as when Fran and I had lived together there. But it wasn’t the same anymore because she was gone. Coming here was good for Marianne.”

  “And for you?”

  He looked away…into the past. “I carry Fran’s memories wherever I go. Coming back here was something I needed to do to put a few ghosts to rest.” Bringing his gaze back to hers, he said, “And now that I answered your questions, let’s go back to mine. Were you running away from something in D.C.?”

  “The same as you,” Jillian answered offhandedly. “My old life didn’t fit anymore.”

  The truth was, she’d not only run from an old life, but also from Eric’s betrayal and the sad memories associated with his illness. However, she didn’t want to go into all that with Chase. She had a fear of him knowing her too well.

  As his gaze lingered on her face, she was never more aware of her attraction to him. He wore a denim shirt tonight and black jeans. As always, the cuffs of his shirt were rolled back. The aura about him of solid confidence and resolute determination could be intimidating if she let it be. But she wouldn’t let it be.

  Without warning, he reached out and let his thumb trail down her cheek. She trembled, and she didn’t want him to see her reaction to him.

  “Do you let your guard down with anyone?” he asked.

  “With friends I can trust,” she said honestly.

  “And you don’t trust me.”

  “How can I?”

  “Because I’m giving you my word that you can.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not nearly enough.”

  “Then maybe this will be.”

  She would have eluded him. She would have stepped away. But the kiss was such a surprise she didn’t have time to form a thought, let alone take an action. In his arms, nothing but the kiss existed and she didn’t know who she was. She told herself he’d caught her unawares and that’s why the taste of his tongue was so seductively intoxicating…that’s why she didn’t push away…that’s why the need inside of her blossomed and filled her whole body with warm, languid heat. Chase embodied virility. He seemed to be an overwhelming force she had to continually fight against in order to stay safe. But his hand on the back of her head, his fingers lacing in her hair did make her feel safe and that was the paradox.

  As his mouth moved over hers and his tongue probed deeper, as his male essence surrounded her and practically lifted her to another dimension, the pounding beat of her heart ran away with her. Every pulse point in her body shimmered from the electric exchange happening between them. His lips seemed as hard as his body one moment, but seductively gentle the next.

  Jillian had known seductive kisses. Eric had been a master at that. But in Chase’s kiss, there were so many elements that she couldn’t name them all. There was excitement and need and desire, but there was challenge, too. There was determination to break down her guard and to convince her to confide in him, to face the reality that her daughter was his and his daughter was hers and they would be connected for a long time.

  This chemistry between them was too potent for her to handle along with everything else. The chemistry became pleasure and hunger as the kiss went on and she didn’t break away. Her breasts tingled as they pressed into his chest. His lower body was erotically exciting against hers. She hadn’t been with a man since she and Eric had tried to put their marriage back together. But that hadn’t been like this. That had been duty and recommitment and trying so hard that pleasure had escaped her.

  Chase was giving her so much pleasure now.

  He was giving her pleasure. He was trying to convince her…of what? That she should give up her daughter? That she shouldn’t go back to Florida?

  Men were good at getting their own way and she was sure Chase Remmington wasn’t an exception.

  Tearing away from him, she tried to catch her breath, tried to pretend she was composed when she wasn’t, tried to pretend that kiss hadn’t been the best kiss she’d ever experienced.

  Grabbing for anything she could think of, grabbing just for words that made sense, she blurted, “I don’t know if I can trust you. We’re not even friends. And if what you say is true, we could be facing each other in court over a custody battle. So this isn’t a good idea.”

  “A custody battle,” he repeated in a grim tone. “Is that where you want this to go?”

  “No! But if you want one thing and I want another and we can’t agree—”

  “We’re adults. We can put our daughters first.”

  “I’m not worried about putting our daughters first. I am worried about how you plan to manipulate me into doing what you want.”

  “You’re going to have to trust me, Jillian, or this will be a hundred times harder than it has to be.”

  “For you maybe. But I’m going to protect myself and Abby no matter what I have to do.”

  Then she was walking away from him, trying to keep herself from running away from him. Chase Remmington posed too great a danger to ignore—to her heart, to her emotions and to her life.

  Once the DNA results were in, she’d know what to do next.

  If she was Marianne’s mother, the next step would be consulting a lawyer.

  Chapter Six

  On Thursday afternoon Chase was stacking bottles of wine in the boxlike slanted shelves behind the tasting bar when the heavy wooden door from the outside opened and a couple in their mid-twenties stepped inside. They studied the rustic building, taking in the interior stone walls, the beamed cei
ling, the racks and tables displaying gifts for any wine connoisseur, the glass doors leading to the winery.

  After a quick look around, they crossed to the huge mahogany bar and asked Chase, “Are you open for wine tasting?”

  His tasting room manager was only on duty on weekends in March. During the busy season, she was there daily. His father had always enjoyed introducing novices to wine. Chase, however, enjoyed the process of wine-making most.

  “Sure. Have a seat.” He gestured to the wooden stools in front of the bar.

  Extending his hand, he introduced himself and soon, he and Sherry and Tom were on a first-name basis.

  “Actually,” Sherry said, hitching herself up onto the stool, “we didn’t just come for wine tasting.” She stole a glance at the man next to her who she’d introduced as her fiancé.

  “You’d like to take a tour of the winery and the vineyard?” Chase asked.

  “Yes, we’d like a tour,” Tom responded, taking over. “But for a specific reason. We want to get married in June. But since we’ve only just decided…” He squeezed his fiancée’s hand with a loving look. “We’re having problems finding a venue. So we decided to think outside of the box. A friend mentioned Willow Creek to us and we wondered if you ever hold weddings here?”

  A wedding at Willow Creek. Chase was almost positive that had never occurred. “No, I don’t think we’ve ever had a wedding here. It would be quite an undertaking since we’re not specifically set up for that.”

  “We’ll pay you,” Tom hastened to say. “We could probably find someone to coordinate the whole thing. It doesn’t have to be elaborate. We’d only be talking about maybe fifty guests.”

  A coordinator. An event planner. A wedding planner. Did Jillian do weddings?

  Jillian. They hadn’t cleared the air after his kiss…after her outburst. Except for dealing with the girls, they’d avoided each other the past few days. He didn’t regret kissing her. The moment of temptation had been so damn strong. It was because she seemed to have her guard so firmly in place that he’d just wanted to blast through it. He’d just wanted to relieve some of the tension in his own body every time he was around her. He’d just wanted to find out if a second kiss could be as good as the first.

  What he’d found out was the second kiss could lead them right into bed.

  Maybe a battle in a courtroom was safer turf.

  Chase had kissed Jillian in a reckless stab at reaching for something that had been out of his grasp since Fran had died. Yet on the other hand, he didn’t want to move forward. He didn’t want to leave his marriage behind.

  A wedding at Willow Creek.

  Possibilities clicked through his head. He picked up the cordless phone at the end of the bar and pressed speed dial for the house.

  Jillian herself picked up.

  “Can you come over to the tasting room? I’d like to consult with you on something.”

  There was a long pause. “Concerning the girls?”

  “No, concerning the vineyard.”

  After another pause, she said, “I’ll see if your mother can watch the girls for a few minutes. I’ll be right over.”

  When Jillian entered the tasting room ten minutes later, the whole atmosphere of the place changed. She’d bought herself a turquoise fleece jacket that made it easy to spot her when she was taking walks in the vineyard or a ride on his mother’s mare. She was wearing navy leggings and he could see the sweater neckline under her jacket was patterned in navy and red. Her hair was loose and looked silky as if she’d just washed and dried it. His body tightened as he remembered the kiss, and he thought about how hot they’d be together. He pictured her in his bed.

  Her gaze landed on his for an instant, took in his jeans and heavy green-and-black flannel shirt. Then her eyes skittered away and she crossed to the couple at the bar.

  Chase introduced her to them. A few moments later, he said to Tom and Sherry, “Jillian’s an event planner. She can tell you what she thinks about having a wedding here at Willow Creek.”

  “I’m not sure what you have in mind.” Her glance at Chase was wary. It was obvious she felt put on the spot and didn’t like it. But Chase did value her opinion on this matter and he did have a good reason for asking her.

  “An outside wedding in June,” Sherry said as if that were a given. “Something simple…about fifty guests. Our friends said your grounds were so beautiful in spring and summer. We saw the creek with the willows hanging over the bank when we drove in. We’d love to use that for pictures.”

  Jillian’s gaze returned to Chase. “You really want my opinion on this?”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

  She seemed to consider her words carefully. “The creek area is too uneven for the wedding, though you could take good photographs by the willows. I think the grounds behind the winery itself would be much better. I noticed two orange blossom bushes there. They might be blooming in June. I don’t know what type of flowers are in the area.”

  “The gardener plants annuals but there’s a bed of for-get-me-nots around the birdbath, if I remember correctly,” Chase explained. “Mother usually takes photographs of all of it every year. I can find some of those if you’re serious about this.”

  “There would be shading by the maples and the old sycamore,” Jillian continued, mapping out a plan. “It would be easy to set up an arbor. We could use canopies and line up the chairs under those for the guests.”

  “Could we see the area?” Sherry asked eagerly.

  “Everything’s gray, barren and cold right now,” Chase insisted.

  “Yes, but I’d like to picture it. Please?” the bride-to-be pleaded.

  He smiled. “We can take a look.”

  Sherry turned to Jillian again. “Could you give us an idea of how much it would cost?”

  “I’m not familiar with the prices in Pennsylvania…”

  Tom and Sherry’s encouraging expression stopped her. “But I can make a few calls.”

  “Terrific. I can’t tell you how happy we’d be if we could have it here,” Tom said. “We’re beginning to think we’d have to have our wedding in our apartment’s courtyard.”

  Outside, Chase listened to Jillian and Sherry talk as they walked. Sherry was asking about the arbor and Jillian was explaining how they were done and the type of flowers she usually ordered for it. She seemed to have information at her fingertips.

  Once at the site, her ideas flowed freely and Sherry grabbed on to many of them. After one look at the area, Jillian pointed out where she’d position the arbor and the chairs, as well as the minister.

  Chase knew he couldn’t give Sherry and Tom a final decision until he spoke with Jillian and his mother.

  After they returned to the tasting room, Jillian said to Chase, “I’m going to go back to the girls.”

  He let her go, knowing they were going to have a discussion later, knowing this wedding could be a solution to one of his problems.

  After he’d closed the tasting room for the afternoon—he’d had a party of five that took some time and later a retired couple who were just looking for something to do on a wintry afternoon—he went to the winery, checked on the vats, tested samples, locked up for the evening and returned to the house.

  The aroma of food cooking tantalized him—a roast in the oven with garlic seasoning, the scent of cinnamon from apple cobbler on the counter. He found Jillian sitting at the kitchen table with the cordless phone in hand. She was ending her call when he came in.

  Shrugging out of his jacket, he hung it on a peg. “Where is everyone?”

  “Marianne and Abby were playing with dolls in Marianne’s room, but now your mother’s reading to them. I just got a call back from one of the florists I contacted. I’m putting some numbers together for you and Sherry and Tom. Are you seriously considering letting them have their wedding here?”

  “Is that such a stretch?”

  “No. I imagine the vineyard is beautiful in spring and sum
mer. But putting together a wedding is a lot of work. It won’t bother you and your mother to have strangers trampling about?”

  “It will only be for one day, maybe two. Just the publicity Willow Creek would get from the wedding would be worth it. I’m sure Mother will agree. We’d only charge them a modest fee for having it here.”

  “Why are you doing this, Chase? Why did you ask for my input?”

  “It’s what you do.”

  “Not here.”

  “Why not do it here?”

  “That’s what I thought. You see this as a means—”

  “Jillian, I don’t have some evil intent. I didn’t plan for that couple to stop by today. They just did. You’re an expert at what they want. I assumed you’d be staying for a few weeks until Marianne recovers.”

  “Or until we get the results from the DNA test.”

  “Just for the sake of argument, if you are Marianne’s mother, what do you intend to do?”

  She went silent, then finally answered, “I don’t know.”

  “Commit to staying here for the next six weeks or so. Plan the wedding for the couple.”

  She toyed with the edge of the list she’d made. “I have to go back to Florida at some point. I have obligations there.”

  “I know you do. But even if I’m a hundred percent wrong about the DNA testing, stay and plan the wedding. When you go back to Florida, you can always fly back here for the event itself in June. This isn’t going to be an extravaganza. It’s just a simple wedding.”

  “Even simple weddings need a lot of planning.”

  “Can you imagine leaving Marianne right now?”

  She looked pained at that, and he knew he’d hit a raw nerve. “No, I can’t.”

  Instead of using further persuasion, he remained silent.

  As she glanced at the phone, she decided, “I need to talk to my partner.”

  “Talk to her. Then let me know what you decide. I’m going upstairs to relieve Mother.”

  He knew if he said anything more, Jillian might shut down the whole idea out of sheer defiance. So he didn’t say another word but left the kitchen to her, hoping she’d make the best decision for all of them.