by Jill Shalvis
“I’ve never judged you.”
“No?” he asked in a deceptively quiet voice. “What about when you came back into town and didn’t tell me who you were? You should have told me, Jenna. I’ve tried to understand this, honestly I have. You know that I’d never have hurt you, that I’d never have kept Sara from you.” With a touch so light she might have thought she was dreaming if she couldn’t see with her own eyes, his fingers brushed the faint scars on her face. “You know that, or you should.”
“I do know.” She pressed his hand to her face with her own, overcome by his generosity of spirit. “I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head, his gaze following the movement of his hand on her skin. Just that light connection seemed to mesmerize both of them. It was a touch that entwined their souls. “‘Sorry’ can’t cut it,” he murmured. “It can’t. There’s too much at stake.”
Oh, God. He meant Sara. If he turned from her now, there’d be no Sara in her life. “I can show you with time, then,” she promised desperately. “I’m not going anywhere. Sooner or later you’ll believe that.”
“Maybe.”
Closing her eyes, she savored the feel of his callused fingers on her face.
“Maybe?” she repeated hopefully. “Did you really say maybe?”
“Let’s make a deal,” he said, pulling his hand back. “I won’t push you to explain how you could have stayed away so long, and you won’t push me for promises I can’t give.”
He wasn’t going to make any promises. She blinked hard, determined to keep her broken dreams to herself.
As always, he saw right through her. Sighing deeply, he said, “I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“Can you honestly tell me you would have rejoiced at the sight of me?” she asked quietly. “Forgiven me completely?”
“We’ll never know.” The impasse between them was heavily weighted. “I’ve got work to do.”
“So do I,” she said, just as stubborn. “If you’ll let me do it.”
“Take the damn job if you want,” he said wearily. “I don’t care.”
“I’ll do that.” She moved away, intending to go to her car, but he stopped her.
She stared down at the hand on her arm, very aware of his strength and how he always tempered it with her, even when pushed to fury. And how had she repaid that? By hurting him at every turn. Looking up into his face, she had to swallow hard against the truth—she’d never loved him more than she did right this minute.
But could she tell him, or would he—rightly so—throw that love back in her face. “This isn’t over,” he said, still touching her. “I have no idea what you want to do about Sara. But that decision is mine, not yours.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to rebuke him, to protest against the unfairness, but she knew it wasn’t for himself that he made these demands. He didn’t have a selfish bone in his body, which meant his stipulation was for the person he had given up a great part of his life to protect.
Sara. He was still protecting Sara, and he would to the end. And she couldn’t blame him.
Her eyes stung. Always on the verge of tears, she thought, annoyed at herself. “I understand.” She turned her face into the wind, welcoming its salty coolness on her hot face. “It will be your decision to tell her or not.” She looked at him. “But I meant what I said. I’m back for good.”
“Right.”
“I know you, perhaps better than you’d like, Stone Cameron. And I know once you realize I’m really not leaving, you’ll do the right thing. You won’t want to keep this from her.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Forever is a long time, Jenna. Once upon a time I thought we had that.”
It took her a minute to speak because hearing him talk that way, in the past tense, was like a knife to her heart. “I’m going to prove I’ve changed, Stone. I’m not the same person who ran away. You’ll see.”
He let out a breath that had his shoulders relaxing a bit. “You were frightened. Neglected and abused. You had a lot of problems back then that you should never have had to face, and you had no support at home. I understand the fear of that girl you were, Jenna. Don’t apologize for that. And don’t prove anything to me. You don’t have to. Prove it to yourself. Then prove it to our daughter.”
He walked off then, leaving her staring hungrily after him as his long rangy body moved with grace and confidence across the sand.
Her longing was so strong it was painful.
He wouldn’t keep her away from Sara.
He wouldn’t force her to stay out of their lives.
Boneless with relief, she sank onto the rock. It was just as well that he’d left, for words were beyond her. Tough as he might want to be, Stone wouldn’t turn away from her. His personal code of ethics, his very morals, wouldn’t allow it.
Just as they also wouldn’t allow him to forgive her for deserting their child, no matter how scared, alone and frightened she’d been.
“What about your office? Who’s watching it?”
Jenna jumped. This was the first time Stone had spoken to her in hours. Straightening her reading glasses on her nose, she lifted her head from the computer monitor.
His shoulder was propped against the doorjamb, his arms were folded across his chest, and his legs were crossed at the ankle, a posture that proclaimed, despite its apparent nonchalance, a very dangerously annoyed male. Nevertheless she decided to take his inquisitiveness as a positive thing, since he’d been pointedly ignoring her until now.
“I have a part-time secretary,” she said. Her “secretary” was Kristen, who most likely was barely managing to cope with the phone.
Stone said nothing, just regarded her with that hooded, yet infinitely patient expression.
And as he’d probably intended, it made her mouth loose.
“It’s an easy office to run,” she said. “All she has to do is answer the telephone for now and make appointments. I’ll give incoming applicants standard testing for typing and basic math skills, then try to match them with specific jobs that companies have called me with or something from the local papers. Mindless really. Anyone could do it,” she ended inanely.
“And doing this,” he said, “opening a temp agency here in this town is a big dream of yours?”
“I...”
“Don’t lie.”
She licked suddenly dry lips, then again straightened her glasses. She pushed a pencil away, then drew it back.
Stalling.
A master at it, she was disgusted to find herself still doing it with Stone. The worst is over, she reminded herself.
“I won’t lie to you,” she said, meeting his gaze. “Ever.”
“I want to believe that.”
“You can.”
“Why a temp agency, Jenna?”
He hadn’t moved a muscle, just regarded her with an intense probing gaze. Nothing but the truth, she’d promised him, and difficult as it was, she would do it. She owed him.
She rose to her feet and came around to the front of the desk, wanting nothing between them. But the moment she did, she regretted the move.
His office wasn’t large and the desk took up much of the available room. What was left, Stone’s big body filled, and it was impossible to ignore. Not to mention that the last time she’d leaned against this desk had been where she and Stone made love.
A dark brow arched as he silently dared her to mention it.
Instead, she blushed.
And he laughed. Laughed!
The sexy chuckle was music to her ears—until he said, “At least the condom worked this time around.”
Vividly she was thrown back in time, to that one and only other occasion in the past that they’d made love, so many years before. They’d used protection then, thinking themselves responsible. She could remember the joy, the overwhelming sensation of being in Stone’s warm loving arms as she gave herself for the first time.
Then, afterward, discovering the torn condom.
“Guess they make them better now” was all she could come up with, but it worked. His mouth curved in a slight smile. With some of the unbearable tension dissolved, their communication went from chilly and distant to incredibly personal.
But it couldn’t be all light and joking, not if they were to get through this, something Jenna intended to do. “You asked why a temp agency.”
He nodded, still in his nonchalant pose but now meaning it, while she tensed up all over again. He could at least have had the decency to be as uncomfortable as her, she thought.
“I’m not very talented, Stone,” she admitted. “I’m twenty-seven and lacking in skills. I’m not very educated, either. I did manage to get in some junior college over the years, but...” She studied her clenched fingers, wondering why it was so hard to say all this when it was the pathetic truth. “There’s not a lot I’m good at. I—”
“You’re good at understanding and reading people.”
His interjection startled Jenna. “Th-thank you,” she said.
“It’s not a compliment. It’s the truth.”
“Which is why this business is perfect for me. I can match people to the correct job.”
“And?” he asked without a hint of what he was thinking or feeling.
“And?”
“Why else are you here, Jenna?”
She’d hold back nothing, not ever again, she reminded herself. But oh, it was hard to open up. “I wanted to be near you and Sara.”
“Because of the accident.”
“Because I realized I’d wasted ten years.” Pushing away from the desk, she closed the distance between them, standing so close she had to tip her head back to look at him. “I ran when I should have stayed and fought, but I didn’t know how to fight then. After that I kept telling myself it was no big deal to be alone. For the first time in my life I was free, truly free to do whatever I wanted. I jumped from job to job, from adventure to adventure, always running so I wouldn’t have to stop and think, because if I did, I’d have to admit I’d been an idiot.”
“Jenna—”
“No, dammit, listen.” She clutched his shirt with both hands. “Please. I didn’t have the skills to deal with all that happened to me back then, and I wouldn’t have let anyone help me gain those skills. I’m not trying to excuse what I did—I can’t. I’m just trying to make it right.”
“Jenna.”
His voice broke through her rushed speech, and horrified, she realized she was still clutching his shirt. She relaxed her grip, but couldn’t make herself let go completely, not when he felt so solid, so hers.
Firmly he reached up and disengaged her hands, placing them at her sides. Then he stepped back. “You’re Sara’s mother,” he said in a neutral tone. “Nothing I can do will change that. But you can’t go back and make all this right. You just can’t.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“What I want doesn’t matter.”
“You want me to leave,” she whispered, deflated by his composure.
“I’m not that selfish, dammit.”
They heard the outer shop door open, and Stone’s face changed, turning fierce as a mother bear. “Don’t even think about it,” he said harshly.
“Daddy, where are you?” Sara’s light musical voice rang out.
Jenna knew what Stone was telling her. She wasn’t to tell Sara who she was, at least not until they’d finished discussing it.
It wasn’t very flattering that he could think she would. “I won’t.”
He glared. “I mean it.”
Jenna lifted her chin, her eyes flashing angrily, though her voice remained just above a whisper. “I told you I wouldn’t, and I won’t go back on my word.”
“I have to protect her,” he said. “You know that.”
He could have no idea how that protectiveness thrilled her, yet made her yearn at the same time. “Yes, I know.”
When he was about to turn away to greet Sara, Jenna put a hand on his forearm to stop him. “Thank you,” she whispered, not quite succeeding in keeping the emotion out of her voice.
“For what?”
“For not kicking me out. For giving me this chance with my daughter.”
“I’m not giving you anything.”
His vehemence startled her.
“You’re doing this,” he insisted quietly. “You’re making your own destiny.” He stared at her hard, the warning clear. “Just make sure you make the most of it this time, without hurting that child. Or fate or not, I swear I’ll make sure you never get another chance with her again.”
He disappeared then, and she hadn’t even had time to accept her bitter disappointment when he was back. He tossed down a heavy photo album in front of her and said simply, “Here. Before I forget.” Then he turned and left.
Stunned, she sank into his chair. She had no idea how long she sat staring at the leather-bound book before pulling it close and opening it with shaking fingers.
“Oh,” she breathed, as she soaked up the precious photographs.
Sara, one week old, propped up in Stone’s huge hands and apparently wailing at the top of her lungs while Stone grinned down proudly.
Sara, six months old, sitting between Stone’s legs and looking up at her daddy with an expression of rapt love.
Trembling, heart drumming, Jenna closed her eyes, tormenting herself with should-have’s. Forcing her eyes open, she turned the page—and gasped in laughter and anguish.
Sara on her first birthday, shoving a fistful of cake into Stone’s laughing mouth.
Sara at two, then three, then starting kindergarten. The pages went on in time.
Jenna had missed so much. She’d never forgive herself. And, she wondered, if she couldn’t forgive herself, how could she expect Stone and Sara to?
Long after she’d finished studying the photos she couldn’t bring herself to shut the book. Heart thundering, her vision blurry with tears, she got to her feet and looked up. And found herself staring in Stone’s surprisingly kind eyes on the other side of the desk.
He moved around and came up behind her rigid body. Gently he closed his hand over hers, helping her shut the heavy album. Jenna continued to hold herself stiffly, head bowed, but he only moved closer, pressing against her, solid and real.
She tried to hold it all in—oh, how she tried!—but a horrible sound escaped her, a high keening cry she was helpless to contain. Mortified, she covered her mouth.
Stone’s arms came up, sliding around to anchor her back to him, tight to his chest. He bent his head over hers with a soft wordless murmur, meant to console. It did, enough so that she lost control completely.
She couldn’t help herself; his unselfish gesture had stunned her. She’d hurt this man in the worst possible way, and yet he put that aside to offer himself, because she needed him. For Stone, it was that simple.
He turned her to face him and gently removed her glasses.
“I’m fine,” she gasped, and he slowly shook his head. “But Sara...”
“She’s next door at the printer’s, playing with her friend. Let go, Jenna. For once, just let go.”
Blinded by hot tears, Jenna tried to fight it, but it was like holding back Niagara Falls. Then she was in his arms with no idea whether she’d put herself there or he’d pulled her to him.
Still, she might have managed to control herself, but Stone cupped the back of her head with such heart-stopping tenderness suddenly she was sobbing.
Stone let her burrow closer, and while she was appalled by her helplessness, she was powerless to stop. She needed him, needed to have his tall muscular body support her, needed to feel secure. She wished he’d squeeze even tighter, and just as she thought it, he did, making her tears come faster. His big hand held her head close, and the other moved slowly, soothingly up and down her quivering back.
The mix of regret and grief and anger was almost more than she could bear, and she cried herself to exhaustion. And when she stood there, head buried in his now wet
shirt, Jenna found herself grateful for his tact and silence.
“Thank you,” she said to him, her voice thick and husky.
He pulled back. “You can keep the album for a while.”
She offered him a watery smile, and he studied her for a long moment.
“Feel better?”
“Lighter maybe,” she said, jokingly referring to how much water she’d shed.
“Don’t.” At his urging tone, she looked at him.
“Don’t hide.”
Slowly she nodded. “Are you still mad?”
He made a disparaging sound. “It’s not that easy to define, Jenna. Only time will tell for now.” And he handed her back her glasses and left her alone.
Chapter 14
“You traveled around all the time you were gone?”
Jenna didn’t jump at this question Stone fired at her. She’d gotten used to such questions over the past few days, gotten used to him poking his head around her office door—or his office, if she was working there.
No greeting preceded these questions, no warnings. Other than that day he’d held her while she’d cried, there’d been no apparent softening in his attitude. But Jenna took the fact that he asked her anything at all as a good sign.
Shutting her filing cabinet, she turned to meet his unblinking gaze. His dark hair was damp and so was his shirt, reminding her it was raining rather hard outside. And he’d clearly stalked from his office to hers, needing his question answered, without regard to the weather. Her heart constricted.
“Pretty much,” she said, knowing that one of these days her honesty would break through. She’d see his slow sexy smile, and he’d look at her with enough heat to melt an iceberg.
Although he still looked at her with undeniable heat, he just didn’t allow it to go any further than looking. Not as he had before, when he’d let his natural sensuality come out, when he’d found any excuse to linger, to touch...to taste.
She missed that with all her being.
“Where did you go?”
“You name the state, I was there,” she admitted ruefully. “Never took me long to get bored. I saw Europe, too.”
“What did you do for money?”