Cherishing You (Thirsty Hearts Book 3) Page 8

She implored herself to remember that having sex with Jonah was a temporary pleasure like a chocolate truffle. When the treat melted away, she’d move on to other tastes. She had to avoid the lure of long-term thinking.

  Hard to do when the man wandered through her home completely comfortable. Jonah strode back into the living room eating a sandwich.

  “I found bread, but the only sandwich fixings you had were peanut butter and some strawberry preserves. I don’t think I’ve had peanut butter and jelly in twenty years. It’s not bad.”

  Jonah stood there, a grown man with a half-erect penis, and munched on his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Shannon’s mouth went dry.

  “Your pants are in the corner.” She pointed to the pile of his clothes.

  His eyes glinted at her like sharkskin. He moved toward her and dropped onto the sofa.

  “Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked with a victorious air.

  “No,” she breathed. “You have jam on the corner of your mouth.”

  Jonah darted out his tongue to each side of his mouth, capturing the lingering jam and grinning. He extended one arm on the back of the couch behind Shannon’s head and pressed closer.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Yes. And thank God for the drop cloth. I’d hate to have your bare ass on my couch.”

  Jonah laughed. He took the last bite of his sandwich. Then, he rose and grabbed his jeans and underwear. His acquiescence both pleased and disappointed her.

  “I wanted to ask you something. My family buys a table every year at the Magnolia Society’s charity ball, and my dad is bugging me about my plus one. It’s a week from Saturday. I’d hoped you would be my date.” He walked back over to sit next to her—this time with his rear covered in denim.

  Shannon froze. She could handle going out to dinner, but a fancy charity ball? Nothing in her closet would do. Her only cocktail dress sparkled, clung tight and barely reached mid-thigh. She wore it on New Year’s Eve a couple of years back. Kid had loved the cheap, party dress. That was out of the question, and she couldn’t afford to buy a new one only to wear it once.

  “I’ll have to check. I’m usually either working or with my daughter on the weekends,” she fibbed.

  “Are you sure?” Jonah’s disappointment made her feel guilty.

  “There’s that,” she began and cleared her throat, “plus, I don’t have anything to wear to an event like that.”

  Jonah waved her objection off with his hand.

  “I could find you something. We’ll go shopping,” he said, smiling.

  Shannon bit her lip. “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Of course you can. It’s not a big deal. If you’re going to go with me, you’ll want to dress appropriately, and so we’ll make that happen. I couldn’t ask you to come and burden you with buying ball gown. That wouldn’t be right.”

  “I just…This isn’t Pretty Woman,” Shannon proclaimed.

  Jonah’s grin disappeared. “Of course not. That’s not what I mean at all. I’ve looked forward to asking you about the ball. I wasn’t sure where we were headed. Now, I am. I’d love it if you went with me. You’d be doing me a favor. I hate going to these things by myself.”

  “Your family will be there.”

  “I know. That’s another reason I need a distraction,” he smirked.

  Jonah gave her a light kiss on the cheek. A frisson of joy shot through her.

  “Okay. I’ll go. And I’ll take you up on your offer to help me find something to wear, but we’re splitting the cost.”

  Jonah shrugged. “If you insist.”

  He kissed her on the lips, slowly tasting her. Shannon melted into him. Jonah groaned, pulling back.

  “Condom. I should get a condom. We got carried away before. Can’t do that again,” he mumbled into her hair.

  Jonah reached into the back of his jeans for a wallet, pulling out a foil packet and tossing it on the plastic-covered coffee table. The momentary interruption didn’t ruin his focus. He turned his eyes back to her and found her mouth again with his own. One hand slipped behind her neck, caressing her nape as his tongue explored her mouth. His other hand slipped under her shirt and found its way between her legs.

  She didn’t know why she’d bothered asking him to put on his pants. Jonah wasn’t going anywhere.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I need to ask off for—not this Saturday—next Saturday,” Shannon told Penny as soon as she got to work the next day.

  “Oh. Doing something special with Olivia?” Penny asked.

  Shannon tugged on her apron, her eyes darting to the door. “Not this time. I’m…You know that guy? The one in the suits who comes in? He asked me to an event that night.”

  “Okay. Sure. I’m surprised you’re willing to miss out on the tips of a weekend shift. He must be pretty special,” Penny commented with a wink.

  “I don’t know. He…I…We’re just getting to know each other,” Shannon stammered.

  “I’m happy for you. Glad that last guy is history. Glad you’re getting back out there.” Penny paused and bit her lip. “Be careful though. Not that it’s any of my business. I shouldn’t say anything since I’m your boss.”

  Shannon smiled. “It’s fine. I hope at this point you’re more than just my boss. I count you as a friend.”

  “Good.” Penny sighed. “These kinds of guys. You know, rich guys. They can have attitudes about women who aren’t from their same…who aren’t—in their minds—high-class. Not that you aren’t. It’s just they don’t see people like us the same way. Working people. You know?”

  Everything Penny said were thoughts that swam in Shannon’s mind, but she ignored the sinking feeling in her gut and focused on Penny’s good intentions. Her boss didn’t know Jonah or how he wanted to help her, and Shannon leapt to defend him.

  “Yes. He’s rich, but that’s not all there is to him. He’s funny and kind. He spends his extra time building houses for the poor.”

  Penny held up her hands. “I’m not trying to be critical. I’m sure he’s great. He must be if you like him like you do. Just be careful.”

  “About what? I’ve dated poor guys, guys with a little money, and now a guy with a lot of money. You know what? They’re all the same. Some nice. Some pigs. It seems stupid to disqualify him for being successful.”

  “Is he successful? Or are his parents? My ex came from money, and when you grow up with everything, you can take things for granted. You can think you’re owed things. It seems you’ve had enough men in your life who act like you owe them because they show up with a smile and a—”

  Penny stopped and threw her pen on her desk.

  “A smile and a what?”

  “Nothing. I shouldn’t say anything like that.” She took a deep breath. “I’m still your boss. If you need off next Saturday, I can arrange that. I hope everything turns out for you, Shannon. I do.”

  Tension still feathered Penny’s eyes as she smiled.

  “I appreciate that. And the advice. I know you mean well, but Jonah isn’t your ex or my ex. I want to give him a chance to be his own person—without throwing my baggage at him.”

  “You’re right. That’s good. I guess I’m just too jaded.”

  “That happens. The bad ones do a number on you.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.”

  Shannon shook off her conversation with Penny and walked back out to the floor to check in at the hostess stand. Jonah liked her. She knew it. His money had nothing to do with her or their relationship.

  * * *

  When Shannon slipped into Jonah’s car on Friday night, all she could think about was the price tag. She had gone home and searched “S-Class Mercedes” on the Internet.

  They did indeed start at a hundred thousand bucks. Jonah’s car, with its buttery leather, sleek style, and growling engine, cost as much as some people’s houses.

  Her first ex-husband, Jeff, lived a high-toned life now, but that’s not how he grew up. Still, even as
a teenager, Shannon thought Jeff and his middle-class upbringing had been out of her league. Jonah and his family lived a world above anything she ever experienced.

  Shannon stretched her legs to unwind the tension seeping into her body.

  “You can put the seat back if you need more room. The controls are on the right-hand side,” Jonah offered.

  “Oh, thanks. I’m fine,” Shannon replied and surveyed the view through the window as they flew down the highway into downtown.

  The radio played softly, but underneath the hum of the engine, Shannon still heard the melody.

  “Oh, turn this up. I love this song.”

  Jonah pressed a button on the steering column. Tim McGraw’s twang filled the car with the lyrics of “One of Those Nights.” Shannon leaned back, not able to stop herself from singing a few notes. The song ended, and she sighed.

  “Where are we going for dinner? You didn’t say anything except to wear my best dress.”

  His instruction had thrown Shannon into a panic. He’d already seen her best dress. Luckily, Kim was about the same size and loaned her a simple black dress with a V-neck bodice and swinging skirt in silk crepe.

  Shannon accessorized with some simple silver hoops studded with cubic zirconia, small black handbag, and a pair of sky-high black heels—another splurge at the discount store.

  “Murray’s. It’s the best steakhouse in the city with the best bar in the city. They can make any cocktail imaginable, and on a Friday night, nothing beats their scene.”

  “I don’t really drink,” Shannon informed him.

  She dreaded telling people that she didn’t drink and answering the inevitable follow up questions.

  “Oh. May I ask why?”

  Shannon took a deep breath. “I had some drug problems. Some recovering addicts I know will drink alcohol occasionally, but I don’t.”

  Jonah kept his eyes straight on the road in front of them.

  “Oh. Does it bother you to be around drinking? We can go somewhere else,” he suggested.

  “No,” Shannon exclaimed quickly. “I’m fine if others drink. And I suppose I could have a drink every once in a while, but I don’t want to risk falling into old habits, I guess.”

  Jonah glanced at her. “That makes sense.”

  They fell into an uncomfortable silence. Shannon could tell he had a thousand questions.

  “You can ask me anything you want,” she chuckled.

  “Really?”

  “Sure.”

  Still, his next question deflated her confidence.

  “I’ve been wondering why your daughter lives with your ex-husband. Is this why?”

  “Yes.”

  The news that she didn’t have custody of her daughter often raised eyebrows. People tend think that women always have custody unless they’re a total mess. Shannon supposed she had been exactly that.

  “Do you think you’ll ever get custody back?”

  “No. I’m not trying to. You see,” Shannon paused for another breath, “I left Jeff before Olivia was even two years old, and I didn’t see her again until earlier this year. Living with Jeff is all she knows. I wouldn’t take that away from her. I’m working to get more extended visitation than I have now, but that’s it.”

  Shannon watched Jonah’s grip on the steering wheel tighten up, and her shoulders slumped. She could hold back and not tell him so much, but at this stage, Shannon wanted to see if he could take it. Better to find out now that he couldn’t before she got in any deeper.

  “That must be difficult.”

  “It gets easier as time goes by. Olivia and I are starting to bond. I never thought I’d have that chance.” The wistfulness in her voice sounded pathetic even to her own ears. The hot date she anticipated started to swirl down the toilet. “I’m sorry. This is pretty heavy for a first date.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I don’t think we should consider this a normal first date,” Jonah replied, reaching over to squeeze her knee.

  Her nervousness abated slightly.

  “Do you have any questions for me?” Jonah prompted.

  Shannon couldn’t think of one that was appropriate to ask. She couldn’t say, “So you’re really rich, huh?”

  She settled on, “Tell me about your family.”

  “Well, you met my sister, Vivienne. I don’t have any other siblings. My parents live here in Dallas. I work with my dad. I think I mentioned that already. My mom is active in the social scene in town. She does a lot of charity work. Not much else to say.” Jonah shrugged.

  Shannon doubted that. From what she read, his parents were a very big deal. Thomas Moran ran a billion-dollar company. Sheila Moran served as a queen of Dallas’ elite socialites. Shannon saw their pictures sprinkled through the society pages of Dallas’ local papers and magazines. One of those papers named the Moran mansion one of Dallas’ finest examples of architecture and design.

  Shannon stared at Jonah’s profile. His smoothly shaved jawline extended at a perfect angle below his high cheekbones. The faintest dimple appeared when he smiled. For the first time, she noticed a small scar above his trimmed right eyebrow, the only disruption to the fineness of his face.

  “The scar over your eye. How did that happen?”

  Jonah reached up reflexively, stroking it. “Idiocy. I was running in the back yard when I was a kid and didn’t notice this massive root of the oak tree out back. I tripped over it and smashed my face on the trunk. My mother rushed me to the emergency room while calling my father’s plastic surgeon friend to meet us there. Probably the most expensive stitches in history. It was worth it. I barely have a scar.”

  “I’ve looked at you a thousand times, and I didn’t notice it before now. But I guess I haven’t seen you up close too much,” she reasoned.

  “We’ll have to change that.” Jonah smiled.

  Heat unfurled below her waist. A single line, and Jonah had her body humming.

  As he turned the steering wheel left, Shannon spotted the stitched monogram on the sleeve of his dress shirt, which read, “JAM.” She reached out and tapped it with her index finger.

  “What does the ‘A’ stand for?”

  “Ambrose. It’s a family name.”

  “That’s pretty old-fashioned.” Shannon tried not to laugh.

  “I’m just glad my parents didn’t see fit to name me Ambrose outright. You can’t even shorten it to something cool.”

  “I think it’s nice to have some history in your name. I haven’t talked to my biological family in almost twenty years. I know nothing about them.”

  “You don’t want to reconnect?”

  “No. I don’t see why I would at this point. Blood doesn’t mean much unless you’re really a family, you know?”

  “I do. Sometimes I think about that with my own family.”

  “But you see your parents all the time. Don’t you have family dinners?”

  “We do. Attendance at those is almost mandatory. I guess you’re right. That’s something. I’ve always thought my family was missing that real connection though. Our dinners are so formal. Everything and everyone in their place. Just once, I’d like to see my mother do something unexpected. Like cook the meal herself,” Jonah chuckled. “She avoids the kitchen like the plague.”

  “Like mother like son, I guess. Some days, I think you have all your meals at the bistro.”

  “I know. Granted, part of that is so I can see you,” Jonah said with a wink.

  “You’re always so charming.” Shannon smiled in spite of herself.

  “I try. Otherwise, how will I lure beautiful women into my car?”

  “My guess is the car is a lure in itself.”

  “Maybe. I should rephrase. How will I lure quality beautiful women into my car?”

  Shannon returned Jonah’s smile and tugged on the hem of her borrowed dress. A quality beautiful woman? Shannon balked. Could he ever see her that way? A woman with no family except a daughter she’d left and two ex-husbands?

  Ho
wever uptight his parents might be, at least he had them. Shannon wondered what they would think of her. She gave herself a mental kick. His sister liked her and had hired her. His parents couldn’t be as bad as he made them out to be.

  Since she had no clever answer to Jonah’s question, she leaned back in her seat to enjoy the rest of the ride.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A few minutes later, the valet opened Shannon’s door and helped her step out into the porch of the posh steakhouse. Jonah walked around the front of the car and took her by the arm.

  He hadn’t exaggerated. The bar was a scene to behold. The room had everything that people thought Dallas was—except the cattle, which was more Fort Worth anyway. Shannon spotted a Dallas Cowboy swigging a cocktail as tall as the hair on the large-breasted blonde he eyed in the corner. If she concentrated, she could hear a well-known country tune under the hot buzz of conversation blended with boisterous laughter.

  Jonah led her to the bar, a long line of rich, dark wood with gleaming brass.

  “Is this why they call it a bar I wonder?” Shannon pondered aloud, sliding her hand along the rail.

  “Probably. I never thought about it.”

  “Me neither. I don’t know why I just thought of that,” she replied.

  “Let’s get you a non-cocktail. What would you like?”

  “I’ll take a Coke with lime if they have it.”

  “I’m sure I can rustle that up for you.”

  Jonah caught the bartender and ordered Shannon’s soft drink and a club soda and lime for himself.

  “You don’t have to drink that on my account. Have a glass of wine or something,” Shannon cajoled.

  “I’ll have some wine with dinner.” Jonah lifted her hand to kiss it.

  Warmth spread from his lips to her hand and her entire body. He stroked her palm with his thumb before letting her go. Shannon exhaled, longing for him to touch her again.

  Dinner. That’s why she was here. Sex was on the back burner so she could get to know Jonah. If she ever wanted to be more to him than a sex buddy, she had to stop combusting every time he touched her, or he looked at her, or she thought of him. Her attraction for him was like dry kindling waiting for any hint of spark to ignite.