Long-Lost Mom

by Jill Shalvis

  He thought Kristen was looking for a job, Jenna realized with relief. Well, what else could he think? He could never in his wildest dreams guess the truth. “It might be a while,” she said, not exactly eager to face what had to be done. What should have already been done.

  “Never mind, it’s okay.” Kristen nearly ran to the door. “We can finish another time. Thank you,” she said to Jenna, giving her a look Jenna had no trouble reading.

  Tell him!

  Don’t you dare leave! Jenna silently begged in response.

  “Take care,” Kristen said.

  Stone looked surprised at Jenna’s outburst. “No! I need your résumé, remember?” Jenna jumped up, desperate to delay the inevitable.

  “I won’t forget. Goodbye, Stone.” Kristen hesitated. “I hope to see you again. Will you tell Sara you saw me?”

  Jenna’s heart stopped. Stone’s gaze was shuttered. “Why would I do that?”

  “So that maybe you could tell her I asked about her. That I send my—” She stumbled over her words when Stone didn’t make a move to encourage her. “So you can tell her I said hello.”

  He stared at her. “I’ll tell her.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes bright as she left

  Stone rose and came toward Jenna. He stopped so close his thighs brushed hers. “Why are you so tense?” He lifted her chin so he could meet her eyes. “I wish you wouldn’t hide from me.”

  “Hide?” She laughed nervously, pulling away to sit at the chair behind her desk. “I’m right here.”

  “You know what I mean.” With slow grace he closed the space between them. He leaned forward, his big hands on the arms of her chair, surrounding her, crowding her in the nicest of ways. One hand lifted and his fingers brushed her jaw gently. Tenderly. Lowering his head, his mouth replaced his fingers, and she felt him kiss the puckered skin of her scars so lightly, with such gut-wrenching care, tears welled.

  “What did Kristen mean,” Stone murmured against her skin, “when she asked you about lingering pain?”

  “Did you stop by for pleasure or business?”

  “I asked first. Are you hurting from this?” As his mouth hovered close, his fingers spread wide over the side of her face, his thumb brushing over her lips as if he wanted to feel her answer, as well as hear it.

  “I...can’t think when you touch me,” she said against those warm fingers.

  “So don’t think.” His body brushed closer, then closer, so she could feel the heat of him sink into her skin.

  His name drifted in a sigh off her lips.

  Her name drifted off his and he bent to kiss her.

  The door to the office swung open to reveal a shocked Kristen.

  “I’m back,” she said too brightly, waving an envelope. “And I’ve got my resumé.” She shot Jenna a glance that spoke volumes. “Stone, I think someone is just pulling up to your office.”

  When Stone moved to the window to peek out, Kristen glared at Jenna and mouthed, Stop kissing and start telling!

  Stone turned back, strode over to Jenna and, disregarding Kristen’s fascinated stare, kissed her just long enough to have her eyes crossing with want. “I came to talk to you about hiring a clerk for my office, but we can do that later. I’ll see you soon,” he promised quietly.

  As he strode out, Jenna fell limply into a chair, thankful down to her curling toes she didn’t have to answer.

  Kristen grinned. “Got any brain cells left?”

  “Not many.” Jenna fanned herself, feeling ridiculously juvenile to be so bowled over by a kiss. “What are you doing? Why did you come back?” She tossed the empty envelope aside. “You don’t have a résumé.”

  “I’m making sure you don’t make another mistake. I stepped aside too many times in our lives, and yes, I realize we’re old enough to take care of ourselves now, but I thought I’d save you, anyway.” She pointed. “Now listen up, little sister. No more hanky-panky until you tell him. You’ll just make it worse.”

  “Do you think I plan such things?” Jenna asked incredulously.

  “Hmm. No, I can see how you lose yourself. He’s incredible. Just don’t forget, you have a strategy. Make him fall in love with you. Love. Not lust, though...” She glanced out the window at the retreating Stone, whose long amazing legs, strong defined arms and taut backside all moved with the easy grace of a man very much in charge of himself and his emotions. “I can definitely see where the lust comes from.”

  Like starstruck giggly teens, they crowded the window, watching Stone walk away. God, he was something, Jenna a thought. A well-honed machine, all those muscles and well put together bones running smoothly.

  “He did grow up fine, didn’t he?” Kristen asked a bit breathlessly.

  “Yeah.” And the knowledge didn’t ease the ache of unfilled desire pounding through her. Not one little bit.

  Make him fall in love with you.

  Kristen’s words haunted Jenna as she tried to work the next day, for she had no idea how to accomplish this. Besides Stone, no one had ever fallen in love with her; she’d certainly never contrived to make them do so.

  She had a million things to do. Place ads, read the Help Wanted section in all three of the papers she’d dumped on her desk, run checks on two new people she’d interviewed the day before. And that was just the beginning.

  Oh, yes, she had lots to do, she thought, continuing to pace her office. Lots to do and all she could think about besides her daughter was that sexy man a couple of offices down from hers.

  The night before he’d tried to convince her to come to dinner with him and Sara, and as much as her heart yearned to do just that, she’d declined. It had nearly killed her. Getting to know Sara was so important, but she couldn’t let herself indulge in that luxury, not until she’d told Stone the truth, something she couldn’t do until she had him alone.

  “Ridiculous,” she muttered. “Asinine. I’m a complete fool.” Continuing to berate herself, she pulled out her purse. Buried in the zippered compartment in the bottom, was a small photograph.

  Sara.

  It had been taken immediately after her birth. It was faded, wrinkled—and her most precious possession.

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” she whispered, caressing the photo as if it were Sara’s skin she was touching. “I’m trying to fix it, really I am. Right now.” That decided, she once again buried the photo and straightened. She had every right to walk on down there to Stone’s office, didn’t she? His brother had just died, for Pete’s sake. She should go down and see if he was okay.

  Leaping on that excuse, Jenna flipped on her answering machine and practically ran out of her office.

  She stepped into Stone’s shop, only to come to an abrupt halt.

  Chaos reigned.

  The phone rang off the hook. The huge saw was on, its roar filling the shop, but no one was near it. The large room was hot, as if the heat had been accidentally left on all night. On the counter a small fan blew ineffectually at the too-warm air.

  Flying around it were sheets of paper, and given the unaccustomed emptiness of the counter, Jenna imagined that the fan could be blamed for this, as well.

  There were things she remembered about Stone, things she would never be able to forget. Not necessarily a neat man, he did thrive on order.

  There was no order here, none at all.

  Something was wrong and dread knotted in her stomach.

  “Stone?”

  At the silence more dread filled her, for Stone was always careful. He’d never leave his shop unattended, with important papers flying about and a saw running. Not unless he’d gotten hurt again—

  “Stone!”

  The sun beamed through the windows on the side of the shop, blinding her, but she ran toward his office and jerked the door open without invitation.

  It was empty.

  When she turned to leave, she saw him. She’d missed him before because of his utter stillness and the glare of the sun, but he stood directly i
n front of one of the windows, hands in his pockets, his back to her, his wide shoulders squared against the world. His face was hidden from her, but she imagined his jaw tight with strain, his eyes hard and hot.

  Her first thought was, He’s found me out. Despite her best efforts, somehow he’d seen her tattoo. Or he’d recognized her kiss. Or...

  Her second thought was that she was thinking about herself far too much.

  She wanted to run away, wanted to forget the tension that fairly vibrated off him. Instead, she walked over to the saw and flipped it off.

  At the startling silence, Stone turned his head. The beginnings of a beard darkened his jaw, as if he hadn’t shaved that morning. He looked tired and just a bit ruthless. Yet at the sight of her, his hard cold expression changed, lightened. The stress lines around his eyes and mouth faded. And then he offered her a slight smile that turned her heart upside down.

  Words failed her.

  He didn’t speak, either, didn’t move a muscle, just looked at her as if she was the most beautiful woman on earth.

  And for that one second she felt it.

  Without remembering the actual decision, she moved toward him, not stopping until she stood in front of him. She was scarcely breathing.

  When she was near enough, he opened his arms. She walked directly into them, closing her eyes so that she couldn’t see the honest emotion in his. The warm hard strength of him enfolded her, and Jenna sighed.

  “This is what I needed,” he murmured roughly, dipping his head to run his lips lightly over her jaw. “You.”

  “What is it?” she whispered, dropping her head to the side to give his insistent mouth better access. He bit her lightly, giving her a set of delicious shivers that he promptly soothed away with his hands. “When I first came in, what were you thinking about?”

  “Nothing.” His arms tightened around her. “Everything.”

  “I’m sorry. Your family?”

  “Lack of one. Today is the funeral. I was just thinking of him and feeling...lost. Then you came.”

  “I’m so sorry about your brother, Stone.”

  “Yeah.” His voice roughened. “It’s Sara I’m worried about. I can’t believe they don’t want to be a part of that precious kid’s life. It kills me.”

  She couldn’t believe it, either, and an amazing surge of anger welled up within her, so much so that she had to remind herself she’d supposedly left all the bitterness and fury in her past. “Keep trying,” she suggested with a lightness she didn’t feel. “You have to keep trying for Sara.”

  “I know.” He sighed, a heartfelt breath that made her hold him all the more tightly in return, trying to offer as much comfort as she could.

  God. How could she tell him now, when he was on the way to say goodbye to his brother forever? He was about to face his parents for the first time in years, and he was so tense he was shaking. To tell him now would be cruel. Selfish.

  “Stone—” She sighed. Why did something happen every time she wanted to tell him the truth? Was it meant to be this way?

  “Take care today,” she whispered.

  His gaze caressed her. “You’ll be thinking of me?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  His lips descended on hers in a soulful, searching kiss that was both sweet and hot. She wished it could be different, that she could have told him the truth now, but she could do something else.

  She could tell him how much he meant to her.

  She pushed gently at his chest until he raised his head. “Stone.” His mouth, wet from hers, curved.

  “Love the way you say my name.” His eyes blazed. “All breathy.”

  “I’ll be thinking of you today—” she said shakily, “because of how important you are to me.”

  A small bit of the immeasurable sorrow etched on his tight features faded and his fingers traced her jaw. “You’re important to me, too, more every day.” He stroked her lower lip with his thumb, making it tingle. “Can you come over tonight?” When she hesitated, he said, “I can’t leave Sara, it’s Mrs. Potts’s bowling night.”

  That was good, she thought. She’d tell him, but first she wanted to see Sara one more time, before he kicked her right out of their lives. “Yes. I...I need to talk to you.”

  “If you’d like, we can talk now.”

  Telling him before the funeral would be cruel. She couldn’t burden him that way, not on this painful day. “It’ll wait,” she said, aching.

  Cupping her face in his hands, he tilted it up and kissed her. It was different, this kiss. Softer, warmer and infinitely seductive, it spoke of things like deep abiding affection, and even more moving, it promised a future. Clinging, delving into the kiss, Jenna felt tears sting her eyes. Would his kisses promise a future when he learned who she really was?

  “Tonight,” he whispered, giving her one last lingering kiss.

  “Tonight,” she whispered back, her heart growing heavier and heavier with his every touch. “Tonight.”

  Good Lord, tonight.

  Chapter 8

  Stone held Sara’s hand during the funeral service. He had no idea if he was giving or receiving the comfort. They sat toward the back of the filled church and listened to the pastor drone on about God’s plan and timing and Fate.

  He could see his mother and father, grieving and clinging to each other in the front pew.

  Sara had demanded to know, in a not-so-quiet whisper, exactly which people were her grandparents, and he’d dutifully pointed them out.

  And the dam he’d built around his heart held, for he hardly felt a twinge. He certainly felt no regret, only a lingering sense of anger at their incredible stubbornness.

  “Daddy,” Sara whispered, tugging at his arm, “it’s over.”

  Surprised, Stone watched the mourners weed their way to the front to offer their condolences.

  He and Sara had already decided that they would not intrude on his parents, not on this day. They would pay their respects to Richard and leave.

  So Stone had no idea why he grabbed Sara’s hand, kissed her and then started for the front of the church. Sara looked up at him, pride and love beaming from her face, and Stone knew he was doing the right thing.

  The years fell away. His mother, petite and lovely, her small pixie face ravaged by tears, looked the same. His father, tall and rangy much like Stone, had gone gray, but his face, tanned and wrinkled from years in the sun, was also much the same.

  Except they’d aged.

  Stone’s heart lurched painfully.

  “Mother,” he said softly. “Dad.” He waited until they looked at him, their mouths agape with shock. “I’m very sorry.”

  For a moment no one spoke.

  Finally his father said, “It’s about ten years late for that.”

  “I meant,” Stone said firmly but politely, “I’m sorry about Richard. Nothing else.” He turned slightly, exposing Sara at his side. Smiling down into her curious, slightly nervous eyes, he said, “This is Sara. Sara, these are my parents, Lara and Charles Cameron.”

  He heard his mother gasp, and he tensed, prepared to protect Sara from anything his mother might say.

  But she didn’t speak.

  This had nothing to do with his past, Stone reminded himself as his anger built; this was all about Sara. And her future.

  He could only hope his parents saw it that way.

  Then it happened, the only thing in the world that could have made him relax enough to actually enjoy this meeting. His mother plucked her glasses from the chain around her neck, and set them onto her nose, hungrily drinking in the sight of the child at his side.

  Sara stared raptly in return.

  “Why, you’re beautiful,” Lara Cameron said to Sara, whose face split into a wide grin.

  “I look like my daddy,” she announced proudly.

  Lara’s eyes filled once again. “I know.”

  Charles swallowed hard, looking back and forth between Sara and Stone, as if unable to believe his eyes. “Son.�
�� He held out his hand formally.

  Stone slid his hand into his father’s. “I meant what I said before. I’m so sorry about Richard.”

  His father nodded brusquely, turning away to hide his emotion.

  “How come you named my daddy after a rock?” Sara asked, forgetting to keep her voice down. “’Cause Stone isn’t really a name, you know.”

  His mother let out a choked sound, half laugh, half cry.

  “I have an aquarium,” Sara continued, not waiting for a reply. “I’ve got lots of fish. I named two of them Grandma and Grandpa. Wanna see them sometime?”

  “Sara.” Stone set his hands on her shoulders, silently reminding her of their bargain—which had been for her to remain quiet.

  “Just wanted them to know, Daddy.” She smiled innocently. “’Cause if they decide they want to be my grandma and grandpa for real, I’ll rename the fish, that’s all.”

  Lara dropped to the pew gracefully, set her face in her hands and began to cry.

  Stone’s father, looking suddenly lost and much smaller $han his height dictated, awkwardly patted her shoulder.

  Stone took Sara’s hand and turned away.

  “Wait,” his mother gasped. Tears streaming down her face, she managed a weak smile. “I think I’d like to see your fish sometime, darling. Would...that really be okay?”

  “Oh, yes.” Sara danced on her feet, excited.

  “Are you sure? How about with your father?” Lara said, not looking at Stone. “Do you think he’d mind?”

  Sara glanced up at Stone, searching his face for a long moment, before answering her grandma with a solemn tone. “Maybe you could ask him when you’re ready. You know, call him on the phone?”

  “Would he like that?” Lara asked.

  Sara thought about this a moment. “I think that would make him happier than he’s ever been,” she replied.

  Lara nodded slowly, and once again began to cry.

  For all Sara’s nonchalance, Stone knew by the way she fell sound asleep in his truck on the way home that his little girl was exhausted, made so by all the heavy emotions of the day.

  When he was parked, he went around to the passenger side and scooped her up in his arms as he hadn’t done in a long time. He stared at her in wonder, soaking in the gangly long legs, the thin torso she hadn’t yet grown into and the peaceful at-rest face.