by Karen Booth
My lover. My dearest friend. My Spencer.
* * *
Upon our return to Nashville, I found a lab that would provide the results of a paternity test within a matter of days. And now that day had come. They were due to arrive by special delivery this afternoon.
I hadn’t seen Kirby yet, but Spencer had been communicating with him, acting on my behalf. At the moment, the older man was on his way to my condo. He’d asked if he could be here when I opened the envelope. A copy was being delivered to his house, too, but he wanted us to get the news together. Apparently, he was too anxious to do it alone. I was anxious, too, so I agreed to do it this way and get it over with.
I glanced over at Spencer. He was here for moral support. Later this week, I would be packing up my belongings and moving in with him. He’d already informed Kirby that we were engaged. I’d told my sister and Tracy, too. Everyone within our circle knew. We’d set the date for six months from now. We were young and eager, and it seemed foolish to wait.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
“Truthfully? I’m a bit of a wreck.” Regardless of the DNA outcome, I’d vowed to forgive Kirby. But what if I couldn’t do it? What if all of those angry feelings came flooding back?
“It’ll be okay.” Spencer came over to me, sitting next to me on the sofa.
He stroked a hand down my back, helping me relax. I turned toward him, and we kissed, the exchange warm and tender, his lips gentle against mine.
Afterward, we looked into each other’s eyes, a stream of silence between us. Until the doorbell rang.
“Do you want me to get it?” he asked.
I nodded, my heart picking up speed.
Spencer went to the door, and I could hear him in the entryway, greeting Kirby. I suspected that they were embracing, as they often did.
They came around the corner, to the living room, where I was. Kirby looked fraught with anxiety.
“Hi,” I said, rising from the couch.
“Hi,” he parroted. “How are you?”
“I’m all right. Just waiting, you know.”
“Yeah.” He crammed his hands into his pants pockets.
He sported slim black jeans and a black gaberdine shirt with silver piping. His snakeskin boots had Cuban heels and a kerchief tied around one of them. I’d always liked Kirby’s over-the-top style, even if I never wanted to admit it.
“Can I get you anything?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. But I’d love to see your ring.”
I approached him and held out my hand.
He let out a low whistle and grinned. “A black diamond? Now that’s my kind of jewelry. You’re a girl after my own heart.”
“I always wanted a black diamond.” I smiled at Spencer. “And he gave me one.” Five carats and counting. It made quite a statement.
“I’m so happy for the two of you.” Kirby sounded like a proud parent.
Was he my father? Was that what the test was going to reveal? I took a moment to analyze my feelings. My hatred hadn’t returned. I wasn’t consumed with resentment or malice. But did that mean that I’d forgiven him? Or was there still some hurt buried deep inside?
While we waited, I put on some music. The three of us sat, making minor chitchat. It seemed easier than saying anything too personal.
A short time later, the doorbell chimed. I nearly leapt out of my skin. Kirby looked just as antsy.
“I need to answer it,” I said. The envelope would be addressed to me, and I would have to sign for it.
As I made my way to the door, I hoped it wasn’t a false alarm, with my neighbor’s kid selling cookies or something.
Thankfully, it was a delivery person from the post office. I accepted the envelope from her and returned to the living room.
My palms turned sweaty. “Will you do it?” I asked Spencer. I couldn’t seem to manage it.
“Of course.” He took the envelope from me.
I turned the music down and glanced at Kirby. He scooted to the edge of his seat.
Spencer opened the results and read them quickly to himself. A second later, he said, “It’s not a match. You’re not related. Kirby isn’t your father.” He shifted his gaze to his mentor. “I’m sorry, but she’s not your daughter.”
Kirby seemed stunned. He barely moved, scarcely breathed. He’d obviously expected a different outcome. I hadn’t known what to expect, and now I had mixed emotions.
Joel McKenzie was my father, leaving me with the same DNA I’d always had. But Joel was gone, and Kirby was here, looking sad and dejected.
Oddly enough, I started to cry. For him. For me. For my mother. For all the pain and betrayal over the years.
Spencer came toward me, but I shook my head. I went over to Kirby and cried in his arms instead. He held me, like a father would do, and rocked me back and forth.
I glanced up and saw my fiancé watching us. He understood how badly I needed this. Kirby needed it, too. I was forgiving him, completely, wholly. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t my father. He was treating me as if I belonged to him.
When I stopped bawling, he handed me the kerchief from around his boot and let me blow my nose on it. I looked up at him, and we both laughed.
A long silence followed, and I thought about Mama and wondered what she would think of all of this. “Will you tell me about when you first met my mother?” I asked Kirby. “I’d like to connect the dots, to try to understand who she was back then.”
He winced a little. “It’s not a pleasant story.”
“I know. But I need to hear it, to make peace with it.”
“I understand.” He cleared his throat. “I met her at the record store where she worked in Oklahoma. I was there for a promotion, signing CDs and doing a radio interview. She told me that she was working on some songs, but she didn’t think they were very good. I encouraged her to keep at it. I even said that someday when she was ready, she could show her songs to me.” He made a shamed expression. “She agreed to have dinner with me that night in my hotel room, and one thing led to another. I think she got swept up in my celebrity, in having such a famous man show an interest in her.”
“Where was my father all this time?”
“He was out of town on a trucking job. He didn’t know anything about where she’d spent the weekend. I remember her telling me that she was in a relationship, and that they had a child together. Your sister would have been around five then, I think.”
“Did my mom say anything about my dad?”
“Just that he didn’t want to get married. That he didn’t believe in it or something. She seemed hurt by that.”
“Did she know that you were married at the time and that you had children?”
“Yes, but I told her that I had permission from my wife to sleep with other women, which was true. The only rule was that I wasn’t supposed to have kids with anyone else.” He shook his head. “But I didn’t honor that agreement. I already had Matt by then.”
“I have one last question.” One more thing I wanted to know about my mother. “What was in the letter Mama wrote to you?” The note with the postmark that made him think he might’ve been my father. “What did it say?”
“She was thanking me for encouraging her to believe in her music.” He blew out a sigh. “But I took advantage of her when she came back to me, nearly twelve years later, eager for me to hear her songs and hoping that I would buy them. I wasn’t her beacon of hope. I was just a self-serving prick who used her, making promises I didn’t keep. The worst part was the restraining order I filed, just to get rid of her.”
I merely nodded. I couldn’t deny that being labeled a stalker had been Mama’s biggest downfall.
“I’m not making excuses,” he went on to say. “But I was a terrible person then. My substance abuse was out of control, and I was going thr
ough women like water. Your mom was just one of many. I blocked her from my mind as time went on, until I pretended that I’d forgotten all about her. But I never really did.”
“It’s over now,” I assured him. “And we both have to stop hurting over it.”
“I know, but I’m always going to wish that you were my daughter. I can’t help but feel that way.”
“We can still learn to be close, spending time to get to know each other. Weekends, holidays, whatever it takes.” I offered him a smile. “We can be friends who seem like family.”
He smiled, too, his eyes going misty. “I would love that.”
This was a milestone for him. And for me, as well. I’d just given Kirby, my old archenemy, a piece of my heart.
I glanced at Spencer. His expression was filled with joy. Clearly, he loved the idea of me bonding with his mentor.
I went over to Spencer and sat beside him. He took my hand and held it. I breathed softly, almost dreamily, just having him near me. A burden had been lifted from my shoulders.
I was finally free of the turmoil that had dictated my life. Free to move forward with the man I loved.
And become his wife.
EPILOGUE
Spencer
Today was my wedding day, and the ceremony would be taking place at my house, outdoors on the lawn. Alice hadn’t allowed me to see her gown yet. I would be viewing it for the first time during her bridal march.
For now, I was in one of my guest rooms, where I’d just put on the designer tux Alice had chosen for me. I stood alone in front of a mirror, thinking about who I was and how far I’d come.
We hadn’t located my father yet. I still didn’t even know his last name. I might never meet him, and I was okay with that. But we would keep searching, in case he was meant to be found.
As for the wedding, Alice had asked Kirby to walk her down the aisle, which thrilled him to no end. It made me extremely happy, too. I loved seeing them together.
I’d chosen Sam, my alcohol counselor, as my best man, and Tracy, of course, was the maid of honor.
We’d also gotten Kirby’s family involved. His sons were my other groomsmen, and his daughters-in-law, including Alice’s sister, were the other bridesmaids. The Talbot grandchildren were our flower girls, ring bearer and pages. The youngest granddaughter would be wheeled along in a festively decorated stroller.
Our reception was going to be banging, with Kirby, Tommy and Tracy as the entertainment. The three of them had agreed to perform, each taking the stage at different times. Per Alice’s request, Tracy would be singing the songs Alice’s mother had written.
I’d included my mom, as well, by wearing a small framed picture of her attached to my boutonniere. Alice had ordered it for me, and it was a beautiful charm and tender keepsake. I know that my mother would’ve adored Alice.
I took an eager breath and prepared to go to the makeshift altar. Right on time, I made my way to the ceremony, where our guests were already seated.
When the procession started, the bridesmaids and groomsmen walked together, paired in couples.
The kids were next. A couple of the boys walked my dogs. Yep, Candy and Cookie were part of it, wearing rhinestone collars and cute little veils. The doggie duds were Alice’s idea. Pete tromped along, too, in a bow tie. The oldest grandson held his leash. The last boy to appear was Hudson, clutching the ring pillow. The flower girls followed him. Zoe pushed the floral-draped baby stroller, and Hailey scattered glittered rose petals.
Then it happened…
The music changed, and I saw my bride. I watched as she held Kirby’s arm and smiled at me. Her long white gown boasted a pearled neckline and a slim black sash, tied elegantly at her waist. Her white-blond hair was spiked, as usual, but the very tips were dyed black. I loved how wild and unconventional it was.
I wanted to break tradition and kiss her as soon as she reached me, but I waited.
Kirby handed her over to me, and I told her how beautiful she looked. She reached up to skim my jaw, and we gazed romantically at each other.
The vows were clean and simple and true. Within no time, we were married. We kissed, and our guests erupted into cheers and claps. Even the dogs barked their approval.
Alice laughed, and I swept her into a playful hug and swung her around. I’d found my lifelong partner, my shining muse, and I was never letting her go.
* * * * *
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
Luxury, scandal, desire—welcome to the lives of the American elite.
Be transported to the worlds of oil barons, family dynasties, moguls and celebrities. Get ready for juicy plot twists, delicious sensuality and intriguing scandal.
6 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!
Love Harlequin romance?
DISCOVER.
Be the first to find out about promotions, news and exclusive content!
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Instagram.com/HarlequinBooks
Pinterest.com/HarlequinBooks
ReaderService.com
EXPLORE.
Sign up for the Harlequin e-newsletter and download a free book from any series at
TryHarlequin.com
CONNECT.
Join our Harlequin community to share your thoughts and connect with other romance readers!
Facebook.com/groups/HarlequinConnection
ISBN: 9781488062957
Hot Nashville Nights
Copyright © 2020 by Sheree Henry-Whitefeather
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at [email protected].
Harlequin Enterprises ULC
22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor
Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada
www.Harlequin.com
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
Luxury, scandal, desire—welcome to the lives of the American elite.
Be transported to the worlds of oil barons, family dynasties, moguls and celebrities. Get ready for juicy plot twists, delicious sensuality and intriguing scandal.
6 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!
Love Harlequin romance?
DISCOVER.
Be the first to find out about promotions, news and exclusive content!
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Instagram.com/HarlequinBooks
Pinterest.com/HarlequinBooks
ReaderService.com
EXPLORE.
Sign up for the Harlequin e-newsletter and download a free book from any series at
TryHarlequin.com
CONNECT.
Join our Harlequin community to share your thoughts and connect with other romance readers!
Facebook.com/groups/HarlequinConnection
ISBN-13: 9781488063459
Copyright © 2020 by Harlequin Books S.A.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:
Forbidden Lust
Copyright © 2020 by Karen Booth
Upstairs Downstairs Temptation
Copyright © 2020 by Janice Maynard
Hot Nashville Nights
Copyright © 2020 by Sheri WhiteFeather
> All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
