by Fifi Flowers
Text copyright ©2018 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Rochelle Paige Popovic and Elle Christensen. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Passion, Vows & Babies remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Rochelle Paige Popovic and Elle Christensen, or their affiliates or licensors.
For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds
RAISING
Veeta
A Yeah, Baby &
Corday Peach Family Crossover
FIFI FLOWERS
MESSAGE FROM
FIONA DAVENPORT
Dear Readers,
Welcome to the Passion, Vows & Babies Kindle World! In this combination of my Passion & Vows and Yeah, Baby series, we’ll bring you new books by some truly amazing authors. From sexy stories of married couples fighting against outside forces to keep their happily ever after, to unexpected pregnancies that lead to forever afters… the Passion, Vows & Babies world is full of over the top alphas, sassy heroines, insta-love, wedding bells, and growing families. Although the wide cast of characters in both series have managed to find love, there’s plenty more out there who could use Passion, Vows & Babies in their lives—like the couple in this story!
If you’re familiar with the Yeah, Baby and Passion & Vows series, you’ll see a familiar face (or more) in this story. I am so excited this author agreed to bring their storytelling talent to the Passion, Vows & Babies Kindle World! However, please keep in mind that this book is entirely the work of the author, and I didn’t have any part in the process of writing this book.
For more about the world, stop by the Passion, Vows & Babies website: http://www.fionadavenport.com/kindle-worlds/.
Happy reading!
Fiona Davenport
(Elle Christensen & Rochelle Paige)
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Other Books by Fifi Flowers
Chapter One
Celeste
“Sorry, I’m late,” I said, immediately, as I walked abruptly into Owen’s private office to grab the keys to the wine cellar. Luckily, my boss knew my situation and was always flexible, but I hated to not be on time.
Owen Walker, also known as the great celebrity chef, responded in a casual tone. “Relax. You’re not late.”
“You’re right on time.” Sienna, Owen’s wife, giggled. “I was trying to break free.”
“Oh shit! I’m so sorry to interrupt.” I had complete tunnel vision—focused on getting started with my work—and hadn’t even noticed Sienna sitting on Owen’s lap. Not that it was anything out of the ordinary. Those two were always cuddled up to each other. Thank God I had never walked in on any naked snuggling going on between them.
“Is Veeta okay?” Owen had concern in his voice.
“Yes.” I sighed. “She just treated me to a bit of a fit. She’s learning too much at school. She informed me all about the importance of families sitting down together for dinner.” I shook my head, grinning.
Sienna laughed. “You have your hands full with that adorable little one.”
They had no idea. Veeta had just turned five years old a few months back and would be starting real school in the fall. She had been going to pre-school a few days a week since she had turned three. Her friends were adored by her and she rattled on about a series of stories involving tricycles, sandboxes, swings, and snack time. Nap time was a completely different story. She had never been fond of them and that was why I picked her up right before her class went down for a nap. I didn’t mind, it gave us time to spend the rest of the day together until I had to go to work.
She was usually good about me leaving her with my parents a few nights of the week, but for some reason, she was in need of more attention.
“Veeta, we eat together most nights. When I go to work it’s too early for dinner.”
“I will eat early so you can eat too, Mommy.” Her light blue eyes sparkled up at me. They were such a dramatic contrast to her dark brown hair which was usually in one long braid down the middle of her back.
Instead of explaining to her that I nibbled on plenty of food at work, I gave into her cute little freckled face and headed for the kitchen. That seemed to excite her and she began to shout to my mother, “Coco, we’re eating dinner now.”
Veeta called my mother Coco like she heard her teenage cousin Cord do. My mother said she was too young to be a grandmother when my brother, Conrad, became a father at the ripe age of sixteen and told him her nickname “Coco” was to be used.
“You know, Coco might want to wait and eat with Grandpa—my father had no problem with the title bestowed on him.
“Oh yeah! Don’t want him to eat all by his lonesome.” Her voice was animated.
I shook my head and proceeded to pull a couple of boxes of store-bought mac and cheese from the pantry along with unsalted butter, sour cream to replace the milk, and grated cheddar cheese. I was a master at doctoring that stuff up. However, it appeared to not be enough for my little one.
“I need balance.” I looked at her to make sure she was safely standing on a chair next to me. Apparently, I was not in tune to what she meant. “No, Mommy. I need vegetables and meat. Something from all of the food groups.” She really was too smart.
“Peas,” I said as I placed a cup full of frozen peas into the microwave. “Protein is what we need. Vegetarians don’t eat meat.” I continued before I had to defrost some ground turkey to add to the pasta. “We have protein, dairy, vegetables, and a starch with the pasta... You can have peaches for dessert. That will be your fruit.” We always had peaches on hand.
Redeemed for my quick work, Veeta praised me. “You’re a good mommy.”
Smiling, I kissed her goodnight, told her I loved her and then headed to work.
Owen and Sienna seemed to get a kick out of my story. I apologized again for barging in on them and vowed to knock the next time.
“No apology necessary.” They nearly said in unison.
“Off to work,” I said, walking out the door.
I loved working at Saphyre for Owen. The restaurant was incredibly beautiful with its plush and sultry atmosphere which included dark woods mixed with rich blues, burgundies and golds. It was truly warm and inviting, I thought to myself as my eyes scanned the dining room before I unlocked the wine cellar door and stepped inside.
So many great wines surrounded me. I tried to make a practice of sampling the wines, but some were out of my reach budget wise. However, I did research each one and based on their attributes, I was usually able to pair them with items on our menu. Once some of the high-end wines were selected and op
ened by me, a taste was often offered and warranted with my tastevin vessel—a shallow silver saucer that hung on a long chain around my neck.
“Good evening, Celeste. There’s a table wanting your expertise.”
I said hello to James, the manager, as he filled me in on my first customers of the night. “Not sure if they’re wine snobs or wine reps testing us. Something about them tells me they’re about to make a pitch.”
“Thanks. I’ll be on my toes.” He smiled, nodded and walked out of the cellar.
Ready to be my most charming self, I straightened my dark grey, custom pencil skirt, smoothed my white French cuffed blouse and slipped the fashionable chain for my tastevin cup over my head, attaching my sommelier knife—corkscrew—to an extra link on the brass chain.
I was armed for the night.
I wasn’t prepared for the guests—guest, singular—seated at the table that had requested me. Well, not me as in “me,” but the sommelier me.
How was I going to function? I thought for a brief second but then I remembered my training and part of it included remaining calm even if you’re approaching a table filled with celebrity clientele. He wasn’t a celebrity, but he was a blast from my past.
My first love.
The first boy to ever kiss me.
The first boy to have sex with me.
The first boy to break my heart.
The first boy to crush my soul when he left town.
Skeet Remington.
Chapter Two
Skeet
“Good evening, I’ll be happy to help you with your wine selection.”
Celeste Archer was the last person I expected to see opening bottles of wine and speaking about its attributes and what would pair nicely with it. She looked so different... so sophisticated in her tailored clothes, high heels... Still gorgeous as ever with her dark mahogany brown hair and denim blue eyes. The bright red lipstick was a new addition.
We both greeted her and she launched into an eloquent speech about their wine selection followed by what they could offer us in the culinary department.
“If you’d like to do a pairing, I can have the chef put something together.”
I would have liked to pair with her right there on the spot.
“Or if you have already selected items from the menu that appeal to you, I can make some suggestions. Some special wines we’re featuring aren’t listed.”
I couldn’t care less about anything on the menu that didn’t include her and I had quite a few suggestions of my own. If I recalled correctly, she liked all of the things I had in mind. She still looked at me the same way I remembered oh so well.
Wearing a suit and tie, I’m sure I had to look different to her...assuming she remembered me. I nearly laughed out loud at the possibility of that. There was no fucking way either of us could forget all of the times we spent together since we were ten years old.
My father, an automotive mechanic, made me go along with him out to the Corday Peach Farm to fix a tractor. It was not how I wanted to spend my Saturday afternoon. He didn’t usually make house calls or even work on tractors. His main thing was fixing and restoring vintage cars and motorcycles. Had he told me he was off to take care of a motorcycle or even found one that people wanted to get rid of, I would’ve been far more excited.
How exciting was a big green tractor that went slow and plowed fields? Boring.
What wasn’t boring at all was the girl that hit me square in the back with a mushy peach. “Oops, sorry.” She smiled at me when I turned around and half laughed. “I wasn’t aiming at you.”
“Hey, who are you and what are you doing here?” A boy taller than me asked with his chest puffed out. “No pickers back here.”
Before I could defend myself, the pretty girl spoke up. “Leave him alone, Conrad. I like the way he looks.” She tilted her head and smiled at me again.
“Celeste has a boyfriend!” Another girl danced around making kissing noises.
“Shut up, Clancy!” The pretty girl exclaimed. “Who are you? You’re cute. Your hair is so dark and your eyes are so green...like the color of peach leaves.”
I had to have turned three shades of red and it took every ounce of control to answer without squeaking out an answer. “Skeet Remington. My pop’s here to fix a tractor... Are you Celeste?”
“Yes. That annoying girl over there is my older sister Clancy and that bully is my brother Conrad. We’re going fishing down at the fishing hole. Do you want to come along?”
I had never fished before and I had never been on a farm. We lived in town in an industrial area and our small house was within walking distance of my pop’s work. Not a great area at all. The farm was pretty and there was a huge house on the property.
“Is this your farm?”
“It’s our family’s from way back. Grandpa Corday started it. Moonshine.”
“Clancy, what the heck? We don’t even know him.” Conrad yelled at her.
“Let’s go grab the poles and worms.” Celeste shocked me, grabbing my hand and pulling me along toward the huge orange and white barn. I had never held a girl’s hand... I liked it. I liked a lot of things about her and I even liked fishing.
“If you are interested in the fish of the day. I have a nice Pinot Noir.”
“I’d like to try whatever you want.” That didn’t make sense at all but my mind had skipped back to days when she was teaching me about her life on the farm. I wanted to hear everything she had to say back then and at that moment.
Thankfully I had Zelda, my mentor and fellow salesperson, with me to speak up. “I think we would like to have you pair wines with courses. We’re not in a hurry.”
“It will be my pleasure to get that set up for you.” Celeste smiled. “I’ll be back.”
“What is going on with you? You completely zoned out. She is very pretty.”
“I know her...knew her... I haven’t seen her since... A little over six years ago.”
“Old girlfriend.” I nodded and sipped my water, wishing I had ordered a strong cocktail. “That explains your behavior. I’ve never seen you lose your cool.”
I met Zelda in an Atlanta diner at one of the lowest moments of my life. Celeste had told me she didn’t trust me anymore. Some rotten to the core people—who came around my pop’s auto shop—offered me a way to make money illegally. I had been tempted to take chances if I didn’t have Celeste. What did I care if I ended up in jail? I was clearly not thinking straight as I sat at that counter.
“It’s never that bad. There’s always a better solution.” I looked over at the perfectly groomed woman climbing onto the stool next to me. “Don’t make any decisions until you finish every crumb of that pie... Peach?” I nodded. “Good?”
I thought to nod but didn’t want to be rude. “The best. Wish it tasted better.” I scooped up another bite onto my fork and forced it between my lips.
“I’m Zelda. Somewhat of a gypsy. Always moving on.” She stopped and looked me up and down. “I’m a shit mother. My boy is probably about the same age as you. Easier to help strangers. The damage is already done...” I let her ramble on. It made me forget about my own troubles for the moment.
“What do you do or sell from your gypsy wagon?”
My question had her laughing. “Wine. Only I don’t have a caravan. A company car and I stay in hotels. Not sure if it’s for someone like you, but I think you might do good with a change... Am I right?”
“Nothing for me here...anymore.”
“Go to California...” Zelda was digging in her purse and then produced a fancy grape-designed cardholder. “What did you say your name was?” I hadn’t.
“Skeet.”
“Well, Skeet...” She wrote on the back side of a business card and then pushed it on the counter toward me. “That is what you need.” I lifted the card and looked at both sides. “You tell Claude and Vonnie I sent you and to put you up in my room.”
“Beauclaire Vineyard? Is that who you work for?”
/> “Yep, and they are my amazing in-laws. They’ll see in you what I do...” She ordered a slice of pie and coffee before telling me about the winery and her history with the place. I listened to every word and finished my pie. “I have to hit the road... So do you.” She slipped off the stool and I followed her outside where she hugged me. “I’ll see you at harvest time.” Then she zoomed off in a fancy car.
I took her advice and it was the best decision I could’ve ever made for myself at that time in my life... If I couldn’t have Celeste...
And I’ll be damned if it didn’t lead me back to her.
Chapter Three
Celeste
“So tell me, how did you turn into a wine expert?”
What the hell was he doing back at the restaurant and in my wine cellar?
“Last time we talked you were leaving Atlanta behind for Tybee and opening a boutique. What happened?” I turned to face the extremely gorgeous face of Skeet Remington and his barrage of questions.
Like a few evenings ago, he was still dressed like an imposter in a suit and tie with his dark hair perfectly styled. Gone was his usual outfit of faded denim jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket and messy hair from riding his vintage motorcycle wearing his helmet.
I’d bet he was probably driving some racy sports car.
“Life stepped in and changed things.” I walked away from him, putting a long sturdy wood table with burgundy cushioned bar stools between us.
“The blue glass lighting is perfect with your eyes.” Still a real charmer.
“Can I help you with something?” I busied myself, taking inventory of the red and white wines housed in dark wood and brass cabinetry from floor to ceiling.
“This is a great room. Do you have parties in here...or intimate dining?” His last words rolled off his lips in a low, growling whisper that hit certain parts of my body.
“Yes, customers book this room for special wine pairing dinners.”