by Jill Shalvis
“Thanks,” he said dryly. “I think.” He wasn’t much of a cook, never had been. For the most part they’d done okay, especially on the one night a week Mrs. Potts left dinner to heat.
And on the other nights, pizza usually worked. Thank God he could afford the luxuries of a cleaning lady and takeout. The memories of earlier years, when he hadn’t been able to, were now just a distant nightmare, one that made him shudder if he spent too much time thinking about it. In those days, before he’d purchased the house, just paying the rent had been a struggle.
How many nights had he stood in their tiny apartment kitchen, a place so small he couldn’t turn around without banging his elbows, and swore the air blue as he’d tried to make a dinner they could both afford and bear to eat?
More than he cared to remember.
As if she’d read his mind, Sara grinned around a mouthful and said, “You’ve really improved, you know. You hardly ever burn water anymore.”
“Eat, smarty-pants.” He winked at her, earning yet another laugh.
She had his number, this one.
Her hair was in its usual state—wild—even though they’d both attempted to tame it after her shower. But for the life of him, he hadn’t managed in all these years to get the hang of the science of detangling, even using gallons of conditioner.
“Hey, slow down a bit.” He leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping from a mug of steaming black coffee as she continued to shovel in the porridge. “You’ve still got a minute before the bus.”
“A minute ago—” she paused to poke in another mouthful “—you told me to eat.” She blinked huge eyes at him. “Which is why I didn’t brush my teeth, Daddy. I’m saving time.”
“Tell that to the dentist when your teeth rot.” He leaned close and stroked her hair, smiling. “But thanks for trying to cut corners. Maybe you could find a better way to do that, like actually getting up when the alarm goes off?”
She snickered and downed a glass of orange juice. “Can I have some more toast? I’m storing energy for my math test.”
“Which you’re ready for, right?”
“Right.” Grinning, she leaped up and hugged him. “I’m studying real hard. I want to grow up to be as smart as you are.”
He halted in the act of searching the refrigerator for more bread, stunned by the impact of her overwhelming love and faith. For the past few days he’d managed to cope with the death of his brother, the threat of Sara’s uncertain future, the rebuke of his family and his unexpected attraction to Cindy. He’d done it by damming up all emotion, but Sara was making that difficult.
“You will,” he said around the huge lump in his throat. His hug was as fierce as hers. “You can do anything you want to do.”
“I want to stay with you,” she said simply, smiling at him warmly. “Forever.”
She was killing him here, with those beautiful solemn eyes. Blinking hard, he said with mock protest, “But you’ll eat me out of house and home.”
She giggled and continued to tug at his heartstrings by looking at him as if he were her entire world.
And he was, he reminded himself harshly—a situation that had to change. He would see to it somehow.
He was buttering her toast when she delivered another unwitting blow.
“Why can’t we go to Uncle Richard’s funeral, Daddy? I want to go and give him a flower.”
Stone looked at his daughter, at the concern and worry and honest curiosity in her gaze, and wanted to strangle his parents. “We can’t go because...” Because not only had they not been invited, they’d been uninvited.
That was the ugly reality.
To hell with that, Stone decided, standing there trying to reconcile the fact that he would never see his brother again. That their last words had been spoken years ago, and despite all Stone’s attempts to renew contact, Richard had never allowed it.
It hurt. It hurt a lot, and would forever dampen his childhood memories.
But despite his pain, Sara had a right to at least have a glimpse of the only living family she had left.
“You know what?” He set down the piece of toast in front of her. “We are going to go.”
“I’ll hold your hand when you get sad, okay?” She squeezed his hand now. “And you can tell me stories about him. About when you were my age and he let your frog go and it leaped onto Grandma’s table when she had company and you got grounded.”
He’d done his best to regale Sara with tales of his youth so that she would have some sense of where she’d come from. It seemed he’d done an okay job of it. “Sounds like a plan,” he told her, holding out her sweatshirt. “Hurry now, honey. The bus will be here any sec.”
“When I come to your office after school, is she going to be there?”
Stone stilled, then forced himself to smile. “She has a name, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” Sara stared at the floor.
Resigning himself to the fact that they were going to be late again, Stone hunkered down before his daughter and tugged at her hair until she met his gaze. “What’s up with this?”
He got The Shrug. The one most ten-year-olds have perfected.
“Sara, when Cindy first came to town, you liked her. You even invited her to eat pizza with us, remember?”
Sara sniffed disdainfully. It was so perfectly like Jenna Stone’s heart stuttered.
Jenna.
It hurt suddenly to think of her. It hurt more than usual.
He knew why. Oh, he’d been smug, so certain he couldn’t get hurt again. He’d been that way for years. Until yesterday.
Without meaning to, he’d threatened his security, that wall around his heart. Worse, by doing so, he’d handed a woman the power to bring him back to his knees.
He could only hope she’d be kind.
“What’s the matter with Cindy?” he asked Sara.
“She likes you.”
The reply, soft-spoken and heartfelt, hit hard. In all these years, with all the women he’d seen casually and some not so casually, his daughter had never once said anything like this. “I’ve spent time with women before. And I’m pretty sure a fair number of them even liked me.”
Sara’s lips quirked, but her eyes remained serious. “None of them really really liked you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You know what I mean, Daddy.”
And he did, although it gave his stomach a little trouble to think about. To realize what he felt for Cindy was serious, the most serious he’d felt in ten years.
Maybe even more serious than what he’d felt for Jenna.
She’d been so long ago and he’d been so young. He didn’t know if he could count on what he’d once thought of as love.
“And if you really really like her back, then you’ll forget about Mommy.”
“Honey...” How to tell her that her mom was gone? Truly gone, no matter how hard and long he’d looked for her? “You can’t compare Cindy to your mom.”
“Yes, I can.”
He stared at her, and she stared back unblinking.
The bus honked.
“Dump her, Daddy. You can do better. She doesn’t even like sausage on her pizza.”
With that piece of wisdom, she kissed his cheek and ran out the door.
Kristen popped her head into Jenna’s new office. Jenna’s first reaction was fear that Stone would see her sister. But Kristen offered a smile that warmed Jenna’s heart, leaving her unable to purposely hurt her feelings by asking Kristen to leave.
“You busy?” she asked.
“Not enough,” Jenna admitted, stretching her shoulders and gesturing her inside. “Want a job?”
Her sister came the rest of the way in and checked out the office, which was still being set up. Stepping carefully over an empty box, she plopped down into a plush chair. “What do you have?”
“A head-chef job, two full-charge bookkeeping positions and a dental tech.”
“Can’t cook, wouldn’t work an adding ma
chine if you put a gun to my head, and I have a phobia of dentists.”
Jenna laughed, the first time in a couple of days. It felt good. “Good thing you make enough money cutting hair.”
“Designing hair, darling. So...you tell him yet?”
“Who?”
It was a blatant attempt to stall for time, which Kristen didn’t go for. “Hon,” she said, shaking her head, “not good.”
Jenna dropped her face into her hands. “Oh, Kris.”
“You have to, you know.”
Of course her sister thought she should tell Stone who she really was. Any normal person would urge her to.
But any normal person couldn’t possibly know what Jenna had done, how she’d furthered her lies with the ultimate deceit.
“Jenna.”
Her sister was trying to help. She’d called often. According to Kristen, this was going to be a regular thing in their lives from now on.
They were going to have meals together when they could. They were going to spend time with each other, lots of it.
They were going to be, for the first time in their lives, true sisters. Jenna couldn’t begin to tell Kristen how much it meant to know they would be family, together no matter what. It was what she’d wanted all along, what she’d been afraid to hope for.
But somehow she didn’t feel quite the overwhelming joy she’d expected. And the reason for that only made her feel worse. Kristen didn’t ask questions; she just accepted Jenna as she was.
But Kristen didn’t know, couldn’t know, that Jenna hadn’t changed all that much. She was still lying, dammit, and now she couldn’t stop.
That Kristen was so happy to be back in Jenna’s life just fed the guilt.
“Tell him,” Kristen urged. “It’ll be hard, but you’ll do it. It’ll work out. You’ll see.”
Feeling like crying, Jenna shook her head. “Can’t.”
“Sure you can. You have to.”
“I know I have to.” Jenna flopped back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. “It’s just that there are...mitigating circumstances.”
Kristen laughed. “Mitigating circumstances? Of course there are! You’ve been on the run for years, scared away from home by a mother unable to show her love and—” She broke off so awkwardly that Jenna lifted her head and stared at her in surprise.
Kristen chewed on her lip, looking characteristically uncomfortable.
“And what?” Jenna inquired, frowning. “The fact that I was a complete jerk? You can say it, you know.” She forced a smile and relaxed back against the chair. “It’s certainly true enough, isn’t it?”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” Kristen’s voice was low, a little hesitant And again Jenna stared.
Kristen eyes were full of apology. And worry. “It’s just that we’ve still not talked about it. And we should.”
“it?”
“You know.”
And suddenly Jenna understood they were no longer talking about things she’d done, but what had been done to her. The abrupt shift of subject made her dizzy. Sick.
Or maybe it was just the subject matter.
Shame and acute embarrassment hit her. “Oh. You mean, that.”
“Yeah,” Kristen said softly. “That.”
“Forget it.” Jenna certainly wished she could. It had been the last straw in her out-of-control life. Squeezing her eyes shut, Jenna tried not to think about it, but the memories surfaced, anyway.
Her mother’s anger, fueled by a sick jealousy of Rand Ridgeway’s attention.
Jenna’s own belief that she somehow deserved it.
Stone’s unflagging trust, terrifying her all the more.
He’d loved her, really loved her, and she had been completely incapable of accepting that. As a result she’d done everything in her power to destroy her and Stone’s relationship, just to prove she hadn’t been worthy of it.
In the end she’d destroyed far more than just herself, taking both Stone and Sara down with her.
Finally, unable to do anything else, she’d given up and run.
“Oh, Jenna, I’m so sorry.” Kristen pulled Jenna out of her chair, brought her to the couch and sat down next to her. “I’m sorry, honey. Had you forgotten? I didn’t mean to make you remember such awful things.”
“No, it’s all right. And I certainly hadn’t forgotten.” She wasn’t likely to ever forget. Rand holding her down with hot hurtful hands, forcing her to kiss his cruel mouth. In the few times she’d attempted a physical relationship since, her memories had ruined it for her.
But not with Stone. When she’d been with him, there’d been no room for anyone else.
Kristen held her hand. “About Stone. I really think he’ll understand. You were going through such a terrible nightmare. And on top of that you somehow believed you deserved it.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Jenna protested, unable to see herself as so pathetic.
“Wasn’t it?”
They looked at each other until Jenna was forced to nod. “Yes, okay. Maybe I did feel responsible in some sick way for what happened with Rand. I dressed wild, I acted wild. Maybe I asked for it—”
“No,” Kristen said firmly. “No one asks for that. Honey, listen. Everyone adored Rand, still do. It wasn’t your fault they didn’t believe you.”
“But I don’t know if Stone can forgive—”
“If anyone can,” Kristen promised, “Stone can.”
Her sister looked so certain Jenna could only wish she felt as positive. “I left him alone with our baby, Kristen. Nothing and no reminding him of what happened there is going to change that.”
“You don’t give yourself or him enough credit. Things are different now. You aren’t that same scared little girl anymore. You had a car accident, one in which you should have died, but didn’t, and it gave you an epiphany.”
“Yes, not to mention a huge headache and quite a medical bill. It doesn’t change what I did. Or what Stone will say when he’s done laughing me out of here.” Dropping her head into her hands, she ran her fingers through her cropped hair. “I’m just so tired of making a mess out of my life.”
“Hush,” Kristen said, leaping up to pace. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself while I’m thinking.”
“Well, stop thinking so loudly.”
Kristen grinned at her, dispelling some of their mutual misery. “God, if nothing else, it’s good to have you back. Damn good.”
Jenna smiled at her sister. “Yeah, it’s good to be back.”
“Stone will feel the same, you know.”
“Not now that we’ve—I mean, we...in his office...” She covered her face again.
“Jenna,” Kristen said slowly, eyes wide. “Tell me you didn’t... Jenna! Why aren’t you telling me?”
“God, I’m such an idiot,” Jenna groaned.
“How did this happen? Never mind,” Kristen added sardonically when Jenna lifted her head and gave her sister a long look. “Obviously I realize the logistics. But—”
“Don’t ask.” Misery overwhelmed Jenna. “It’s done, and he still thinks I’m Cindy Beatty.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?”
“Well, no,” Kristen said slowly. “But I’m beginning to see some of your reluctance to tell him the truth.”
“Yeah.”
For a minute they sat in silence.
“Well, if you wait until he falls in love with you—” Kristen leaped to her feet again “—he won’t be able to resist when you tell him.”
“Oh, sure, like that’s going to happen.”
“I bet he’s halfway there,” Kristen said. “Quite frankly you have nothing left to lose.”
Wasn’t that the truth.
“Are you feeling okay?”
Jenna realized she’d been holding the side of her face again, where the worst of the damage had been done in her accident. It ached sometimes, as it did now, although the doctor had told her it was because, when she felt
tense, she tightened her muscles too much.
The office door opened behind them just as Kristen asked, “Any lingering pain?”
Jenna didn’t have to turn to see the newcomer, didn’t have to see to know why her entire body was suddenly tingling with anticipation. And panic. How was she going to explain this? And why hadn’t she told him the truth? Why was she still hiding?
Stone let the door shut quietly behind him. In his slow but sure way he took in the entire setting—and Kristen. His face hardened, although he remained polite. Dipping his head, he still managed to greet Jenna with a solid warmth that seeped into her very nervous bones.
“Cindy,” he said quietly, only his eyes reflecting the fact that he’d recently made love to her until she didn’t know her name.
“S-Stone,” she said rising. “Hello. I’m just—”
But he turned to Kristen, who smiled wobbily and said, “Hello, Stone. It’s been a while.”
His expression gave away none of the thoughts Jenna knew had to be racing through his head. “Certainly has.”
“How’s Sara?”
“Ever thought about calling and asking her yourself?”
“I’ve wanted to,” Kristen said softly, her face creased in regret. “I’m sorry I haven’t.”
“Don’t be.”
“I’ve also wanted to apologize. For... the court case back then. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“Not many of us were.”
So unrelenting. So stiff. Jenna hadn’t heard him sound so cold before. So utterly uncaring. It was unlike him, but God, could she blame the man? Jenna knew Kristen. had only been trying to do what was best for Sara, but when she remembered all Stone had faced in those early months, she wanted to cry.
He made no move to lighten the tension, which had become so thick she could hardly breathe. In the awkward silence she threw Kristen a panicked look. How would she explain?
Kristen. saved the day, or tried to. “Well, I should get going. Please let me know if something comes up. I can be available to take an assignment on an hour’s notice.”
“I don’t mean to interrupt business,” Stone said, folding his long lean body into a chair. “I can wait.”
