by Kris Jayne
She gripped the bedspread, gathering all her scattered will not to touch him. A twinge of anxiety shot through her as she let him indulge her, asking for nothing in return.
His fingertips lingered on the fullness of her breasts, curving around each before settling in the valley between them. Pleasure wrung the air and tension out of her chest.
She steadied her gasping breath as his splayed hand created five new vectors of sensation over her midriff and down to the golden hair between her legs. With only his thumb, Jonah followed a line from the silky skin below to the nub at her center.
Up and down—he kneaded her there, her legs involuntarily widening.
“Please, Jonah.”
Her hoarse entreaty prompted him to push off his elbow and position himself on his knees between her thighs. Two hands swept down her thighs, rotated around to tickle the back of her knees, and the pushed her calves further apart.
She bent her knees, bringing them up to frame him in her vision. His eyes focused on wherever his hands touched her—now on her insteps as he feathered his nails down to her toes and lightly pinched each one.
After taking his time with each zone of her body, his quick movement to stretch out above her made Shannon’s heart leap. His kisses dropped on her forehead, and she closed her eyes.
A beat later, he eased into her—already wet and wanting—and covered her body with his. He pulsed against her in a leisurely, yet deliberate rhythm. The slow magic of his hips drew her closer and closer to ecstasy, erasing her fears and filling her with joy.
* * *
The need to have her in his bed every night overwhelmed him. Jonah doubted he could let her go once her landlord sorted out the mess with her apartment. Though she might not know it yet, Shannon would choose to stay.
He lengthened himself on top of her, sliding kisses across her hairline.
“I’m heavy, I know,” he murmured into her ear before rolling to her side. He continued to roam his hand over the curves of her figure, loving the feel of her sweat-sheened skin.
“Not that heavy. It’s wonderful, but I am suddenly starving.”
“I don’t know what’s in my refrigerator, but we can go downstairs and find out.”
Neither of them moved. Her head nestled in the crook of his arm. Blonde curls flung in every direction, including one dangling in front of her half-closed, cerulean eyes. Her hint of a smile gave him a jolt of satisfaction.
“Change of plan. We’re ordering in. How’s Chinese?” he inquired, plucking the curl out of her face.
“I’m up for whatever.”
“Good.”
Jonah hoped she was up for what he had in store for her—in and out of bed. Cuddling her next to him, he envisioned Shannon wrapped up in his bed sheets from now until…he didn’t know when. Forever?
Convincing her to lower her guard and lean on him posed a challenge, but now that he would have her with him every day, he knew he could chip away at that wall of hers.
In time, it would come crumbling down, and she’d be his. They would be a family, and he would have his forever.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Somehow, Shannon convinced Jeff to allow her visitation outside of his home base. Staying with Jonah helped, since she wouldn’t be by herself—even if Jeff seemed hesitant to have a new man around his daughter.
“Things are serious between you two, huh?” he asked when Shannon called to tell him what happened with the storms and her change of locale.
“Yeah. I’m happy,” Shannon responded with surprise, then chewed nervously on her bottom lip. Vocalizing her joy felt like a jinx.
“I’m glad. It’s good to hear you excited about life.”
“It is.” Shannon shifted her phone from one ear to the other. “So, you’ll drop Olivia off on Saturday?”
“At ten.”
“Great. Thanks, Jeff.”
“You’re welcome. Just be careful, okay?”
Shannon frowned. “Jonah loves me. I don’t need you to—”
“What? I meant be careful with Olivia. As long as Kid is still loose, I’m still nervous.”
“Oh. I will. Don’t worry. Jonah will be here. We’ll be fine.”
“Great.”
Her assurances to Jeff didn’t stifle her nerves when the doorbell rang promptly at 10:00 a.m. on Saturday.
“Hey, Mommy.” Olivia bounded through the open door, stopped in the center of the entry hallway and looked around. “Is this house old?”
Jonah walked in from the living room, “It is old. How did you know?”
“It looks like pictures of houses that are old—on the outside,” Olivia paused, switching her eyes up to the paneled ceiling. “On the inside too. It’s cool.”
“Thank you. I think so too. Maybe we can start with a tour.”
“Okay. Bye, Daddy.”
Olivia ran back to her father in the doorway for a quick hug and a kiss.
“Have fun, you guys. See you at our place tomorrow at six.”
“Sure. You and Taryn have a good weekend.”
Shannon closed the door and turned around to see Jonah taking Olivia’s bags to carry them upstairs. He and her child chatted, and something he said made Liv dissolve into giggles. The scene felt like a preview of the life she could have with Jonah and the baby she carried.
Dammit. That’s the family life she deserved. Shannon closed her hands into fists as if fighting to keep a hold on her dream. A dim remembrance of Aaron flashed in her mind, and Shannon’s heart ached. One guy and one moment could ruin everything, and for once, she wasn’t the one who screwed up.
Maybe nothing happened. She repeated that wish to herself, relishing in the fuzziness of her memory, even as it frustrated her. The unfairness of having her future snatched away by faint memories seemed unbearable. Of all the injustices of her life, this would be so far and away the cruelest that she refused to believe it could be true.
Shannon trudged up the stairs behind Jonah and Olivia, exorcising her despair.
“Do you think your house could be haunted? That would be extra cool.”
Jonah laughed. “No. The pipes rattle sometimes, but that couldn’t be a ghost.”
“How do you know?”
“Nothing terrible has ever happened here. I bought the house from the children of the original owners. They loved the house, but they didn’t live in Texas anymore and couldn’t maintain it. When I moved in, they made me promise to love it as much as they did. They were too happy here to leave ghosts.”
“Oh.”
“You shouldn’t be so disappointed. Ghosts are scary, sweetie.” Shannon’s leg shook as she reached the top step, and she grabbed the banister. Jonah and Olivia headed down the hall ahead of her, and he pointed out the different rooms.
“I’m not afraid of ghosts,” Olivia declared with the boldness of someone who had never felt terror.
Jonah flipped on the light in the guest room and put Olivia’s bag on the bed. He turned and glanced at Shannon.
“I think your mom isn’t too keen on the idea of ghosts.”
“I think you’re right,” Shannon replied.
“Your birthday is on Halloween, so you don’t have to be scared.”
“Really?”
“Yes. When you’re born on Halloween, you’re used to scary stuff, and it’s fun.”
“She makes some excellent points, Shannon.” Jonah’s amusement delighted her.
“Okay, you two are making me reconsider. I’ll think it over and let you know later how I feel about ghosts. For now, I was thinking we could play some games, and then I can make lunch.”
“What’s for lunch?” Olivia’s eyes brightened at the mention of food.
“I know you have Taco Tuesdays at your dad’s, but I thought we might do that. I can make guacamole, and we have some queso.”
“I love guacamole. And chips?”
“Of course,” Jonah and Shannon said in unison.
“Okay. I can do tacos.”
“Let’s go pick a game.”
Shannon led Olivia back downstairs, and they decided to break out the brand new game of Sorry she and Jonah bought.
Setting up the board on Jonah’s dining room table, Shannon started to relax. Olivia laughed at Jonah’s jokes and seemed comfortable with him, and Jonah—for all his alleged lack of domestication—fell easily into caring for her. Shannon’s worries about whether he’d enjoy fatherhood eased. With Jonah, her child would be as safe as Olivia was with Jeff, and they’d be a family.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
After shaking off her coat and sitting down, Shannon adjusted her shirt and exhaled. She wore a loose, untucked black shirt and black pants that comprised her work uniform since she had to work the dinner shift later.
She took on extra hours at the restaurant in the week since she moved into Jonah’s house. The close proximity was double-edged sword, and work gave her some convenient breathing room.
She glared across the linen draped table, and immediately reached for her glass of water. Her dining companion, Jonah’s mother, smiled.
“Thank you for coming to lunch with me.”
“Thank you for inviting me.”
Sheila’s last minute phone call that morning came as a shock, but Shannon decided to give Sheila the benefit of the doubt.
Jonah’s mother beckoned the waiter and ordered a bottle of Pellegrino and lime wedges.
“That’s your drink of choice, right?”
Shannon couldn’t decrypt Sheila’s question to know whether she should be flattered or suspicious. She sat up straighter, mirroring the older woman’s posture.
“You remember.”
“I do. Jonah explained your past challenges. It’s quite noble how you effort to stay sober.”
Shannon’s brittle laugh cracked the elegant silence of the restaurant. “You make it sound like I’m hanging on by a thread. I take it day by day, and each day is getting easier.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” Sheila replied, lowering her chin to position her head in an apologetic pose.
The friendly lunch wasn’t going to happen. But if Sheila hoped her feigned smiles would distract Shannon while she honed her claws, she miscalculated.
“I appreciate the invitation, but I get the feeling you have something to say to me. I don’t have much time before work, so let’s get right to it.” Shannon pulled her face into an eager smile.
Sheila chuckled. “You are direct. That’s admirable.”
“‘Noble’ and ‘admirable.’ I didn’t think you liked me that much.”
“I don’t.”
Sheila spoke the words as if she might smother Shannon with their softness. Her smile never shifted.
“Why am I here?”
“You’re very clever, working your way into my son’s his life. Now you two are playing house.”
“I didn’t wreck my own house with tornado-strength winds. That was God’s work.”
Sheila flinched at Shannon’s mention of the Lord. “If it hadn’t been that, it would have been something else. I’ve seen this before. Young, pretty women who insinuate themselves into a wealthy man’s world, sprouting up like a weed. You’re here, my dear, because I mean to uproot you. Have you ever heard of a hori hori?”
Shannon felt her face flame. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“No, no. I’m not commenting on your sexual habits. A hor-i hor-i. I have one in my greenhouse. It has a long blade about like that.” Sheila extended her index fingers about six inches apart. “It’s razor sharp with a serrated edge on one side. Slices through the soil like it’s nothing—cutting through sod and splitting perennials. Its best use, however, is for digging out tap roots—the kind that run deep and hold strong. When I was young, I’d have to do that—dig up tap roots—I have a lot of practice. What you do is locate the root of the weed, run your hori hori alongside, and apply leverage.”
Shannon’s temper snapped, but she vowed not to embarrass herself in the fashionable restaurant. “That’s a long way to go just to tell me that you think you can blast me out of Jonah’s life. Time’s wasting. How do you expect to do that?”
“This.” Sheila slid a white envelope across the table.
Shannon snatched it up and opened it, finding a check for five hundred thousand dollars. The number of zeroes knocked the wind out of her.
“This is leverage. Think about all the relationships you’ve had in your life—all failures. In the best of circumstances, most relationships end at some point. When this one ends, what will you have to show for it? Some nice clothes and a few memories. This is security for your future.”
Gobsmacked as she was by the large check, Shannon righted herself hearing Sheila pronounce doom for her relationship.
“Why would I take this? Couldn’t I end up with more if Jonah and I got married? This makes no sense.” Shannon slid the check onto the table under her fingers.
“There’s no way Jonah would marry you without a prenuptial agreement with your payments tied to the length of the marriage. How long before his eyes wander? How many more years of your youth and beauty would you waste? You can take this now and find your next conquest.”
Fury burned in Shannon’s throat. “There’s one problem with your plan. Jonah isn’t a conquest to me. Haven’t you considered that I might actually love him and want to be with him?”
Sheila leaned forward over the table. “Then save yourself the heartache. I know he’s the best you can do, but honestly, he can, and should, do better. Eventually, he’ll realize that you’re not what he needs. Do you want to be an anchor around his neck? Then, he’ll leave you with nothing.”
“I’ve had nothing my whole life. I’m used to it, Sheila. That’s hardly a threat.”
“You can be flippant all you want, dear. I watched your eyes get big when you saw the numbers on that check. You can’t tell me that part of you isn’t considering the offer.”
Shannon fired back without hesitation. “No. There’s a part of me that wants to throw up, but maybe that’s just the morning sickness.”
Shit. The revelation exploded out of Shannon’s mouth and reverberated in Sheila’s stunned silence. Jonah’s mother paled and pressed her hand to her lips, glaring across the table.
The waiter must have seen their animated conversation come to an end, and he glided over to the table with the sparkling water and a dish of lime wedges.
“Are you ready to order?”
In a fit of irrationality, Shannon nodded. “A Caesar salad with grilled chicken. Sheila?”
“The consommé. I need to keep it light.”
The server disappeared as easily as he appeared.
“We weren’t going to tell anyone yet. It’s early.”
“Are you having the baby?”
“Of course,” Shannon snapped.
“I have to ask. I can’t imagine that being a single mother is in the life plan you laid out at dinner a few weeks ago.”
“I won’t be alone. Jonah wants to marry me, and even if we don’t, he’ll be around.”
A small exaggeration of Jonah’s offer landed. Sheila paled and gritted her teeth. After a moment to regroup, the color returned to Sheila’s face.
“Are you sure you can take on that responsibility? From what I understand, the first time you married under these circumstances, it was too much to bear. How old was your daughter when you abandoned her?”
Shannon breathed deep, never losing eye contact with her adversary. A few months ago, Sheila’s snide question would have crippled her. Now, she leaned on the truth.
“Yes. I left, and I regret it. You’ll never know how much—not that you care. But that’s behind me. We’re building a wonderful relationship now, and I’m not lost like I was then.”
Sheila lightly clapped. “Brava. You’re no longer an unmoored drug addict with a penchant for theft. That’s a low bar for parenting, my dear.”
Shannon gripped the corners of the table, sp
itting her words. “Are you going to lecture me about parenting? As far as I can tell, your children spend most of their time enduring you and your husband while desperately trying to avoid becoming you. The stories Jonah has told me about—”
“Careful. My family has its troubles, but we are a family, and if you push us, we’ll close ranks. Trust me.”
Shannon knew recounting their sins wouldn’t get her anywhere. They spend their lives in denial of their misdeeds.
“Never mind. My point is this: I’m going to be a mother to this baby. If anything, missing out on Olivia’s childhood makes me extra determined to make sure I’m the best mother I can be.”
“We’ll see. Just know that we won’t be so understanding with the little slip-ups you’ve had in the past.”
Digging into her history wouldn’t turn up the biggest threat to Shannon’s life with Jonah. Panic threatened to bubble to the surface, but she pressed her heels into the floor and kept her gaze steady. They had no way of knowing what happened at Lindsay’s, and if they already rattled her closet looking for skeletons, they wouldn’t do it again.
She calmed herself. “I wonder what Jonah would do if he knew you were here trying to bribe me? He loves me, and he’ll be furious with you.”
“You aren’t going to tell him.”
Shannon snickered. “Why not?”
“Tell him, and I’ll make sure that your life with him is a never-ending misery. Whatever you may think, I am his mother, and you won’t ever be rid of me.”
The blistering heat in Sheila’s eyes cooled, and the waiter appeared with their meals—if a bowl of flavored water could be considered a meal.
“I need to run. Could you box this up for me?”
No small talk in the world could salvage the outing, and she would rather choke on a lime wedge than continue the conversation.
“For the record, I’m not trying to be rid of you. All I want is for you to leave me and Jonah be.”