by Kris Jayne
“Well, it’s wonderful to meet you. I’ll have to tell Olivia that I saw her mother. She’ll be thrilled. Good to see you, Jonah. Mrs. Moran, we’ll talk later.”
Jonah watched Emily float out of earshot in a cloud of tulle. “That’s quite a coincidence.”
“It is. Now I wish I’d been able to go to the meet-the-teacher thing.”
“What happened?”
“It was the night after my run in with my…Kid. Jeff and I decided that it would be better if I didn’t go until we knew if Kid was following me.”
Shannon looked less convinced of the idea than her words suggested. Jeff appeared to call the shots when it came to Shannon and Olivia. He liked Jeff—getting to know him through Nick—but how long would Shannon have to pay for her old mistakes?
All the more reason, Jonah thought, for him to do anything he could to help Shannon accomplish what she wanted in life. When she talked about her daughter, a completely different light shone in her eyes. She deserved the chance to be more of a mother.
“Jonah mentioned that you had an incident with your ex-husband. That must be a different ex-husband from the one with whom you have a daughter, correct?” Jonah’s mother narrowed her eyes as she spoke.
“Yes. Jeff was my first husband. We were really young when we got together.”
“And then, you got married again? All before you were thirty. To think of how hard I tried to get your sister down the aisle once before age thirty.”
“There are other reasons that didn’t happen, Mother. But, hey, with the Supreme Court ruling, you may get your wedding yet. Maybe before Vivienne is forty.”
“Besides,” Shannon interjected. “I didn’t quite get my last marriage in before I turned thirty. So, no gold medal in early marriage for me.”
Jonah snickered and draped his arm around the back of Shannon’s chair. Good for her. His parents had no room to judge anyone’s morality.
“I don’t see what’s so amusing, Jonah. Marriage is a serious and sacred thing.”
“Yes. I know. You and Dad are an illustrious example for us all.” Jonah smiled smugly and took a sip from the water glass next to his plate. He winked at his sister Vivienne who’d just approached the table.
Sheila huffed. “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, dear.”
“Oh, now, that’s just not true,” Vivienne bellowed.
She slipped into the chair next to Shannon, pulling the hem of her beaded, antique gold gown to the side. The halter tied behind the nape of her neck in a wide bow of chiffon ribbon. Her platinum bob swung as she shifted in her chair.
“Who is being sarcastic?”
Jonah raised his hand. “That would be me. My only point is that perhaps we should be more understanding about other people and their relationships. Some things don’t work out. It’s better to know that and get out.”
Shannon sat deathly still next to him. He needed to change the topic away from her and her exes.
“Who disagrees with that?”
“No one,” Jonah answered quickly. His mother frowned. “Where are Dad and the others? They’re coming in with the dinner plates.”
Vivienne joined her brother in his inquiry. “Yes. With whom are we to share our dining experience? I don’t think I asked you how you filled out the table.”
“Lester and Caitlyn Cornell and Lester’s son Tim and his date. Megan or Margaret or something. They all went to look at the BMW one of the dealerships donated. I can’t imagine what’s keeping them.” Sheila leaned back to allow a waiter to pour her an iced tea.
“There they are.” Vivienne pointed behind Jonah, who craned his neck around to see his father give Lester a jovial slap on the back as they hustled toward the table. Lester’s wife Caitlyn followed behind with her stepson—if one could use that term for a contemporary—and his date.
“Thank God, it’s beef,” Lester pronounced. “I get tired of having itty bitty chickens at these deals.”
Another team of waiters glided in, delivering a richly sauced short rib with perfectly trimmed baby carrots and a creamy pile of mashed potatoes to everyone except Caitlyn.
“I requested the vegetarian meal. I’m trying to watch my macros,” Caitlyn informed the table with a flip of her hair—a striped blend of chestnut and blond.
“Your macros?” Shannon asked.
“My protein, carbs, and fat grams. It’s the best way to stay healthy.”
“Interesting.”
“Very.” Vivienne smiled and cut into her meat.
“I swear there’s so many of these diets, and they all boil down to the same thing. All my favorite foods are off the table,” Lester blustered.
Caitlyn shook her head and rubbed Lester’s back. “Once you get into it, you reset your palate and learn to like new things. I keep telling you that.” She turned to the table and picked at her requested plate of vegetables. “I keep telling him that he needs to start watching his diet.”
“I’m already on a low-salt program for my blood pressure. Now you want to take my sugar. A man needs some kind of flavor in his life.”
“There’s other ways to get flavor, honey.”
Shannon struggled to suppress a smile by swallowing a forkful of mashed potatoes. While the others bantered about their food regimes and dug into their meals, Jonah leaned over and whispered, “You wouldn’t think she’d be so keen for him to live until he’s ninety.” His quip pushed Shannon over the edge into a full laughing fit.
“What’s funny? Share with the class,” Vivienne pressed.
Shannon shook her head and glanced at Jonah. He sipped his water, suppressing a chortle.
“Private joke.”
Tom chimed in to redirect the conversation. “Earlier, Lester mentioned a meeting he had with Harold Faison. He’s mulling a run at that house seat we’ve had our eyes on.”
“Yes. He made a persuasive case, but, of course, I told him that I’m backing another candidate. Hope you aren’t going to make a liar out of me, Jonah.”
Jonah forcibly unclenched his jaw. “I’ll let you know before the holidays what I’ve decided.”
His father’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“Yes. Lester’s right. I need to make a decision so everyone knows where they stand.”
Jonah couldn’t believe he’d started a ticking time bomb under his own ass, but the innuendo and supposition drove him crazy. In the end, that was his own fault. He kept stringing his father, Lester, and everyone else along.
“Just so we’re clear. I can expect a decision—”
“By Thanksgiving.”
Jonah settled into his chair, feeling better now that this limbo had an end date—however impulsively set.
“No chance we could make it by Halloween?”
Shannon grinned. “It could be my birthday present.”
“On Halloween?” Jonah felt silly that he didn’t know her birthday was only in a few weeks.
“Yes.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I don’t like making a big deal about my birthday.”
A cloud passed over Shannon’s eyes, and then blew away. Given the transience of her childhood, Jonah figured she didn’t have many joyous birthday memories. That changed this year, he decided.
“Birthdays get tougher as you get older, don’t they, dear?” Sheila asked, clearly without expecting a response.
“Regardless, I think I’ll try to find something better to get you than a political announcement.” Jonah caressed Shannon’s shoulder.
After dinner, the lights lowered and the band struck up series of pleasant jazz tunes and swingy versions of pop songs. Shannon dragged him onto the dance floor.
A slow song allowed him to pull her closer. Her head dropped onto his shoulder, and their bodies molded together. Jonah kept his hands loose on her waist—even though all he wanted to do was take her hips in his hands. She swayed against him. The softness of her body slipped over his crotch. Soon enough, his erection stood at full attention
—a condition that didn’t go unnoticed.
Shannon gazed up at him with smug smile. “Do you want to keep dancing?”
“No. Not here at least.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere. Let’s go.”
Jonah fought through the crowd to the main exit. Shannon trailed behind with her hand hooked on his elbow. Once in the promenade, the crush of people thinned out, but still frustrated their progress toward the escalators down to the lobby. Rather than get caught up in the madness, Jonah led Shannon the other direction down a hallway.
“The bathrooms are the other way,” a drunk partygoer advised.
Jonah ignored him and turned a corner down a darkened hallway that housed other meeting rooms, shuttered for the evening’s events.
“Where are we going?”
Jonah stopped and pulled Shannon into his arms.
“Here looks good.”
Then, he crushed her mouth with his.
Chapter Twenty
The pressure of his mouth on hers had her entire body buzzing. The vibration of her desire for him so intense, she could almost hear it. Then, shrieking laughter froze her in place.
“Wait. Someone’s coming.”
The rumble of laughter swelled and faded away as a group passed in the illuminated hallway adjacent to where she and Jonah leaned against the wall in the darkness.
“They’re gone.”
“Someone’s going to see us.”
“Uh-uh. There’s nothing else down this way.” Jonah suckled her neck and fumbled with the zipper on the back of her dress.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
“Believe it.” Jonah huffed and grinned. He finally had a grip on her zipper, peeling it down halfway.
“Wait,” she warned again.
“What? I don’t hear anyone.”
“No. There’s a seat or something over there.”
Now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, Shannon spotted a padded bench with rolled arms further down the hall. She’d rather not attempt sex standing up, which was always better in theory and perilous in practice.
She pulled away, knowing Jonah would follow, and pressed her hands on her chest to keep the straps of her heavy, beaded gown from slipping down. She stopped in front of the bench, which couldn’t be more than four feet long.
“Finish with the zipper.”
Jonah stepped up behind her and did as Shannon commanded. The dress sagged down her shoulders on its own, then fell to the floor when Shannon shimmied her hips.
She tried not to think about the high-waisted control panties she wore underneath. Before Jonah would notice in the dark, she turned around and began peeling them off, awkwardly stepping out of them in her heeled shoes.
Jonah moved forward, but Shannon stopped him.
“Wait.” She laughed when he groaned in response.
She tugged at his lapels and yanked the jacket from his shoulders. Jonah reached up and pulled his bowtie undone, flinging it into pile beside them.
Shannon plucked his shirt buttons apart quickly, then attacked his belt and the zipper of his pants. In her hurry to undo the bottom half of his ensemble, she tipped backward on her heels and dropped down on the bench.
“You okay?”
“Perfect.” Shannon found herself eye level with his waist, so she brought his pants and boxers down. The trousers fell to the floor. His boxers twisted at his knees. That didn’t matter.
The firm outline of his cock jutted forward in the dark. Shannon slid her hand up from the base, guiding him toward her mouth.
“Uhh, Shannon.”
She rolled her tongue around the tip, pushing him through the soft “O” of her lips. He pulled back an inch and pressed forward again before jerking back.
“I want more than that.”
Shannon stood up and turned him around. “Sit.”
“Wait.” This time, Shannon heaved an impatient sight. Jonah bent over to scoop up his pants, finding his wallet and a foil packet. Then, Jonah pulled the bench further away from the wall and sat down.
Once he sheathed himself, he looked up at Shannon. She couldn’t see much, but she could feel the rough beginnings of stubble on his jaw line and the pressure of his hands on her hips.
Shannon climbed onto his lap, easing her knees onto the padded seat on either side of him. She found his cock with one hand as he wrapped his arms firmly around her. Jonah held her to him as she brought him into her.
She lifted herself again but felt like she might fall backward. Eventually, she fell into a rhythm, rolling her hips with short strokes and squeezing the length of him as he filled her.
Jonah’s hands braced her back as he held her to him. With his face pressed into her breasts, he found her right nipple, closing his lips around it and holding the tip in his teeth.
She twisted her hips faster, the sensations building with frustrating slowness.
“Hold on.” Jonah scooted them to the edge of the seat. “Stand up.”
Standing meant separating from him, which left Shannon feeling chilled, but only temporarily. Jonah took her to the ground in a daze of pleasure. Between her legs as she lay on her back, he thrust into her, lifted his hips, and rammed into her again.
While she loved being in control on top of him and driving him closer to the brink, nothing compared to feeling having him above her, rocking her core with the hard floor beneath the them.
Her desire climbed again, this time pushing higher and higher until she came apart, following his own explosion.
Jonah collapsed on top of her, then stilled for a few minutes before pulling away from her.
“Shit.”
“What?”
“The condom. It broke.”
Shannon suppressed the twinge of panic. She needed to get on birth control. When it came to condoms, they had terrible luck—and terrible self-control.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re on the pill.”
“Yeah,” she lied. It wouldn’t matter, she told herself, because she would be. Tomorrow. She’d go to the twenty-four-hour clinic and take care of things. They would both be fine. “I’m more worried about the fact that you have destroyed my hair and my makeup. I’m going to look like a trollop walking out of here.”
“No. You won’t. I’ll sneak us out. We’ll get a room. We’ll shower. Go home tomorrow. No walks of shame, sweetheart. You’re with me.”
Jonah laughed. Shannon allowed herself to smile, knowing he’d take care of it just like he promised.
Chapter Twenty-One
When Sunday dawned, Shannon and Jonah spent a lazy morning at the hotel before heading home to change clothes and check out a new spot for brunch. The day came and went with Shannon too wrapped up in the joy of it all to contemplate a trip to the doctor.
However, on Monday, before her late afternoon shift, she headed to a clinic in her neighborhood for emergency contraception, a new prescription, and a lecture on safe sex from the well-meaning physician’s assistant who handled her appointment.
With her business handled, she arrived at the Scarlet Maple, scurrying into the employee breakroom to lock up her belongings and get to work. Just as she was closing the locker, her phone alarmed. She plucked it from her purse and saw a Facebook message from an old friend.
Lindsay Davis was in the category of friends Shannon left behind when she started over in Dallas—drinking and drugging buddies back in the small town an hour or so east of Dallas where Shannon had spent her early adult life.
Shannon and Lindsay hadn’t spoken since Shannon’s brief stint in jail, followed by court-ordered rehab. Lindsay had been the one friend to visit her in jail. Of course, by the time Shannon got out of rehab, Lindsay herself had been in legal trouble, so Shannon walked away.
Starting over in Dallas meant leaving all of those people behind. The only one who’d followed had been Kid, which had ended about as badly as any relationship could.
Curious as
to why Lindsay would get in touch with her after almost two years, Shannon tapped on the message, then gasped in shock.
> I don’t know how else to get in touch with you and I hate to tell you this over text. Laura died yesterday. We’re having a memorial on Friday. It would mean a lot to me if you could come. I know you’re moving on and all, but I’d really like to talk to you. A little sanity around here would be wonderful. Please at least message me back.
Laura was Lindsay’s baby sister. Shannon hadn’t known her well, but she knew Lindsay had lived her life to take care of her little sister after their mother died. Tears sprang up in Shannon’s eyes.
Not growing up with real family, Shannon had envied Lindsay and Laura’s closeness. They teased each other, but always had the other’s back. The sisters had made a pact to never let friends, men, or anything in the outside world wedge between them. Now death separated them—and way too soon. Laura couldn’t be more than twenty-five.
Shannon glanced at the time. She needed to punch in, and she didn’t want to call Lindsay only to hang up on her. So, she waited until her dinner break, then went out to her car and called the number Lindsay messaged her.
As the phone rang, her stomach clenched. What would she say? It had been a long time, and Shannon had turned her back on her old friends, needing distance to get her own life together. Now, Lindsay might need her, and Shannon didn’t know what she had to give.
“Hello?”
Shannon recognized her friend’s voice instantly—even through the grief-stricken strain.
“Lindsay? Hey, it’s Shannon. I’m so, so sorry.”
Shannon broke into sobs as she listened to Lindsay dissolve on the other end of the line. She said nothing and waited for Lindsay to speak.
“God, Shannon, I don’t even know what to say. I’m so glad you called me. I know things got crazy with you and crazy with me, but right now…I just don’t know. I feel like seeing you.”
“Of course. What happened?”
“Laura had cancer. She’s been getting treatment for the past few months, and then a couple of months ago, we found out the cancer had spread to her brain. Then, we knew…” Lindsay broke off with a sob.