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Long-Lost Mom

Page 6

by Jill Shalvis


  She swallowed hard, but didn’t object when he stepped closer, still holding her hand. He seemed so big, so powerful... so unbearably sexy, and he was doing nothing but looking at her, but it was that look, the one that made her knees weak.

  Anyone could walk by and see them, see the sexual tension flickering between them like electricity. Heat flooded her face, but Stone appeared unconcerned. And he would be, she thought ruefully, for Stone was not a man to worry about what others thought, not as long as he was doing what he felt was right. He’d always been incredibly strong-willed that way. Even coming from the conservative background he had, Stone Cameron had always marched to his own beat, and it appeared he still did.

  Their clothing brushed, clung, and he tipped his head down a bit. “We might as well explore it,” he said huskily.

  As they once had. She remembered so well—too well.

  And suddenly she was there, back in time, back to when Rand Ridgeway had nearly raped her. He would have, if her mother hadn’t come home, but instead of sympathizing, she’d hit Jenna for telling lies.

  Jenna had been in her tree by the beach, high above the ground, crying and holding her aching jaw when Stone had found her.

  He’d come looking for her, just as he always did when she needed him most.

  What’s wrong? he’d asked.

  I’m an awful person.

  No. Never. Tell me what’s wrong.

  She’d refused, but he’d stroked her bruised jaw, his own tight with anger. Shame had filled her, for she knew he would hear soon enough how she had allegedly seduced her mother’s boyfriend. Her own school principal.

  Lies, all of it.

  But no one would believe the words of a troubled angry girl. No one but Stone.

  She remembered he’d whispered her name before brushing lips across hers that first time. She remembered how he’d waited patiently for her to try to shove him out of the tree as she had before, but she didn’t. He’d kissed her again and she’d responded with every inch of her betrayed heart.

  She’d cried and he’d held her, then coaxed her down from the tree. He’d brought her to his house, empty of anyone but them, and there, in his moonlit room, they’d held each other for a long time. She could remember the feel of his strong hands holding her possessively to him. Could remember the low huskiness of his voice as he tried to reassure her. Could remember the taste of him on her lips as their comforting embrace turned into something far more sensual, and soon deeply out of their control.

  They’d touched. Explored. Pleasured. And then touched some more, until Jenna had thought she would die of the wondrous feelings shattering her. They’d fumbled their way out of their clothes, stopping for long involved kisses that had left her panting and crying for more.

  Then they’d made sweet powerful love, using protection that had gone with the rest of Jenna’s luck and failed. Still, no man in her life since had ever compared to Stone, and no man could. As a result, her heart had forever belonged to him and the lovely product of their passion—Sara.

  “Cindy.”

  Jenna winced at that now, the use of the awful fake name she’d given. She couldn’t do this, couldn’t continue the lie. “Stone,” she whispered, coming to the impossibly difficult decision. “Oh, Stone.”

  “Daddy, Daddy!”

  Oh, how Jenna wanted to tell him. The lie was eating at her. But not like this was all she could think, not with their daughter barreling toward them.

  Stone glanced at the child heading his way, then back at her. “I’m sorry, Cindy. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

  “Don’t apologize for being a great dad.” She hesitated, torn between disappointment and eagerness to learn all she could about Sara. Her curiosity about her little girl was killing her.

  “She gets dropped off here.” Stone again turned to Sara, who was nearly upon them now, book bag flying out behind her, hair tangled, sweater off one arm, a blissful expression on her face—all because she’d seen her father.

  Jenna knew exactly how the girl felt. What she herself would give to be able to so freely show it!

  Without hesitation Sara flung herself into Stone’s arms, laughing and squealing as he easily caught her up against him.

  “Hey, princess.” He hugged her tight, and as he did, his expression lost most of its intensity, switching into easy loving father mode.

  Jenna watched the two of them, her stomach twisting uncomfortably with... Oh, God, it was jealousy of Stone, for having Sara’s unconditional love. Jealousy of Sara, for being able to put that happy carefree expression on Stone’s face with just her presence.

  What kind of monster was she to feel such jealousy of these people who deserved so much more?

  “How was your spelling test?” Stone set Sara down. When she didn’t answer, he tugged on a hopelessly mussed lock of dark hair.

  “Fine,” she muttered.

  “Sara.”

  Jenna smiled through the pain in her chest as she pictured what life for these two must be like. Laughter, understanding and togetherness were important. She could see that hair grooming—for both of them, she decided as she glanced at Stone’s slightly too long, also wild hair—was a low priority.

  But apparently love topped that list, and that was all that mattered. How had she ever imagined she could live without this? Without them?

  “How good is ‘fine’?” Stone asked Sara.

  “I got an A-, because I missed one. But don’t worry,” Sara was quick to add. “I didn’t stick my tongue out behind Ms. Miller’s back like last time.”

  “Good decision, and great job.”

  “I didn’t wanna have to write my name on the board.” The girl looked at Cindy speculatively. “Hi.”

  “Hello, Sara.” Jenna could hardly breathe. The child looked so good, so healthy, so absolutely perfect. “How are you?” she asked when, in fact, she wanted to know much more than that. Do you like ice cream? Do you love the rain? Do you play with a Barbie?

  Are you happy?

  Is your life as perfect as it can be?

  Do you miss me?

  So many questions, none of which would satisfy Jenna’s insatiable need to know everything.

  “Why are you here?” the little girl asked directly.

  “Sara,” Stone said quietly. “That’s rude.”

  “Well, it’s not pizza night, Daddy. There’s not even a game today. Why is she at your office?”

  Ah, Jenna thought. Jealousy was a two-way street. It was one thing when Sara invited Jenna to have pizza with the entire town present. It was another thing entirely for Jenna to show interest in her father, for Sara clearly believed Stone belonged exclusively to her.

  And didn’t he?

  For as Jenna could see all too well, Sara had no intention of sharing him. It made her smile, this show of fierce possessive love.

  But it made her ache, too, for she was beginning to understand fierce, possessive love. She was feeling it for Sara, a girl she hardly knew, all because that girl was her daughter.

  “Actually, this is my office.” Jenna pointed her front door out to Sara, a door still empty of a sign. “I’m opening a business here.”

  Sara looked decidedly not thrilled. “Oh?”

  Jenna had once been the Queen of Attitude herself, so she understood perfectly. And seeing the first flash of herself in her daughter was an unspeakable thrill. “A temp business, which means I help people find work.”

  “But this is where my Daddy works.”

  “Yes, a few doors down. And it will be where I work, too.”

  All friendliness died in Sara’s eyes. “Oh,” she said again, a wealth of information in that one syllable.

  Stone took Sara’s hand. “Excuse us,” he said to Jenna. “We need to have a chat, then do some homework.”

  Jenna saw the firmness of his jaw, knew he was unhappy with Sara for being what he considered rude. She opened her mouth, wanting to protest, naturally coming to her daughter’s defense.
<
br />   But Sara was Stone’s daughter first, and he had the right to raise the child as he saw fit, which Jenna knew would be with tough loving care.

  She watched them walk away and listened to Stone murmur a reprimand. Though his tone wasn’t rough or abusive—it never would be—it had an unmistakable air of authority.

  Her throat thickened as Stone tugged a stiff Sara close and set his hand on her shoulder. Immediately Sara melted against him, twisting her head to send him a smile.

  They loved each other. No one could doubt that. Stone could punish, could be strict, could even be unhappy with Sara, and yet Sara had no doubt her father loved her.

  Just as it should be for every child.

  Jenna had never had such unconditional love from either of her parents, and although she regretted it, it was time to stop ruining her life over it.

  Determination renewed, Jenna lifted her chin, sent one last watery smile down the path toward Stone and Sara and went into her new office to set up.

  Jenna couldn’t keep herself away from Sara’s game the following night.

  She tried to go incognito, wearing a hat and keeping her head down, but still, she was the recipient of more than one appreciative male glance. One man, probably a father, tried to make conversation, but she wasn’t up for it.

  She wasn’t up for much, other than watching the tall rangy coach as he ran back and forth on the sidelines yelling encouragement to his kids.

  Just looking at him did something to her insides, something she was having a hard time dealing with. He’d been by her office at least twice that she knew of, leaving her notes when she hadn’t been there. Now that she’d made the decision to tell him the truth, she hadn’t yet mustered the courage to face him.

  “Peanuts?” a kid asked, holding a tray. “It’s to support our school.”

  “Thanks.” But Jenna froze. Behind the kid and three rows over from her, sat the man who’d single-handedly set her life on its destructive path.

  Her old school principal. Her mother’s ex-boyfriend. Rand Ridgeway.

  Fear nearly suffocated her as the image of him leering over her, his stern voice ordering her to be good...and his hands, God, his hands, roaming in a way that made her want to cringe even now, all these years later.

  Her vision actually faded before she realized the student selling peanuts was still standing in front of her, hand out, waiting for his fifty cents.

  “Sorry,” she whispered, pulling the change out of her pocket with shaking fingers. Somehow she managed to keep breathing when all she wanted to do was run.

  Stop it, she ordered herself. No way could Rand recognize her, no way at all. Still, she kept stealing glances at his hard profile. Ten years ago, he had been in his late thirties and in his prime; handsome in a dark dangerous way and powerfully built.

  Not much had changed, Jenna noted, trying not to panic again. A bit grayer at the temples, but he was still big, far too big for her comfort.

  Be nice to Rand, she remembered her mother admonishing her. Do what he tells you to.

  The memory of what Rand had told her to do made her want to puke.

  As if he sensed her interest from across at least twenty people, Rand lifted his head and looked directly at her—without an ounce of recognition.

  Still, whatever he saw must have pleased him, for he shot her a slow smile that sent a chill racing down her spine.

  She dropped eye contact immediately and wrapped her arms around herself, concentrating on dragging air into her lungs one breath at a time.

  If she could have gotten up on her shaking legs and left, she would have. Instead, she stayed on the stands, huddled practically into a ball, and watched the game in mute misery.

  The sight of her precious daughter racing across the court drew a smile back to her lips and eventually some warmth back into her body.

  And when Stone spotted her at halftime, he loped up the stands and sat next to her, warming her some more.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said with obvious pleasure, touching his shoulder to hers.

  He was big, too, huge actually, but somehow his brute strength never threatened her. He would never hurt her. Never, she reminded herself when her stomach turned at the physical contact coming so close on the heels of seeing Rand again.

  She pulled away slightly, so that they no longer touched.

  At the movement Stone frowned, his eyes steady and comforting on her, although he was careful not to touch her again. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” But she spoke too quickly, dammit, tweaking his concern and curiosity, then compounded her error by glancing at Rand again.

  Stone followed her gaze. His casual ease vanished. Every muscle in his body tensed, hard and battle-ready. For a split second, the men exchanged glances, Rand’s slightly amused, Stone’s exacting and sharp.

  Rand broke eye contact first, looking far from happy now.

  Jenna held her breath. Clearly the tension between the two men had not lessened with time. She knew this was because of her, because of that time when Stone had been the only person on earth to believe in her.

  With Rand’s eyes off them, Stone turned his attention back to her. He touched her arm softly, and when he spoke, his voice had changed, had become lower, gentler, automatically easing some of her fright and helping her to gain control of herself. “Are you certain you’re all right? You’re shaking and pale.”

  With a last careful look at Rand, who was now speaking to someone on the other side of him, Jenna forced a smile. “I’m fine, really. I, um, just love basketball,” she said inanely.

  His lips curved in a slow sexy smile. “Do you now?”

  “Uh-huh.” She brought a still-trembling hand up to her hot face and hoped he didn’t notice.

  His soft laugh brought butterflies to her stomach. Nice ones, she realized, really nice ones, and it had less to do with lust and more—everything—to do with how she felt being with him. Safe, warm, special. His hand reached up, gently touching her hand, still on her face.

  She jumped, and this time it wasn’t from fear.

  “Did anything else bring you here?”

  “Like... what?”

  “I don’t know...” His long fingers skimmed hers, playing havoc with her pulse, reminding her that she was indeed attracted to him. He reached her earlobe, sliding lightly, playfully, racking her body with a shiver.

  His eyes, those wonderful all-seeing eyes, went hot. “Like maybe you have a thing for the coach?”

  His hopeful and purposefully lecherous grin made her laugh, and it felt so good she laughed again. “Hmm. Do you know him?”

  “I could introduce you.” At this, he grinned wider. “He happens to think you’re something, too, you know.” He stroked her jaw.

  Good Lord, she thought weakly, if a sexier man than him existed, she couldn’t imagine.

  “How about meeting him over pizza?”

  She firmly shoved away her fear and smiled. After all, she was older now and wiser. She knew how to protect herself from danger.

  Then she looked at the fascinating hot-blooded man waiting patiently for her answer and realized she’d just traded one dangerous man for another, for this one held her heart in his hands.

  “Pizza sounds nice,” she said, sealing her fate.

  A couple of days later Stone was deeply buried in work. He had his table saw pulled out, and the twelve-foot machine easily dwarfed even his big body as he bent over it, setting the correct measurements for what would become the frame for his latest prototype.

  This particular job was new to him, a design he’d created last year. Kids liked big, responded to the visual, and Stone had capitalized on that He was making life-size puzzles, created of wood, designed to stimulate the minds of second graders across the state.

  Flipping up his ear protectors, he turned on the saw and started. It was difficult back-aching work. Cutting out the pieces for the frames took hours, and by the time he was nearly done, his every limb
trembled with fatigue.

  Just two more cuts, he told himself, and then he’d break for lunch. Maybe he’d even catch a glimpse of his new neighbor. Over the past few days, he’d spent more time looking out his window and contriving to be on the sidewalk than in all the years he’d been here.

  He would have been annoyed at himself, except he knew it was the same for her. There was no mistaking that he affected her every bit as much as she affected him, for he could see the pulse dance at the base of her neck when they saw each other. Her eyes would widen, her mouth would open slightly. She couldn’t keep her breathing even. She was definitely attracted to him.

  Still, she’d done her damnedest to avoid being alone with him. In fact, the only time he’d spoken to her in the past days had been after Sara had arrived home from school

  She had a great interest in his child, something that concerned him, for Sara had decided she didn’t like Cindy. Stone knew that was because his daughter sensed his interest, and since he’d never expressed a serious interest in another woman before, it threatened her.

  There was one solution to this problem—stay the hell away from Cindy Beatty. Except that he really liked her, unsettling as that was.

  Stone shook his head and pushed the last two-by-four through the massive noisy saw. But with his head buried in the clouds, he miscalculated, and didn’t push hard enough, even though he knew that with a saw this big, such an error could be dangerous.

  He saw the mistake, but it was too late; he could do nothing to save himself as the saw kicked back the heavy beam directly at him.

  No time to duck or even react before it hit him with terrific force, plowing him directly in the belly, knocking him ten feet back into the concrete wall of his workshop.

  His head hit the wall with a sickening thud, and he saw stars. With the air socked right out of him, for long torturous seconds all Stone could do was lie there and open his mouth like a dying fish as he began the desperate painful struggle to pump air into his lungs.

  “Stone?” Over the roar of the still-running saw, he barely heard her. “Guess what!” she called. “I’ve just taken on two girls looking for clerical and secretarial work, one of which I can place right away and—Stone?”

 

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