Long-Lost Mom

by Jill Shalvis

  “So she is.”

  There was his temper. It flashed briefly in his eyes. Regarding her, he again hunkered down, but he didn’t touch her this time. “Are you really okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I’m stubborn, not a complete idiot. I know a good part of what you’ve been running from for so long is what he did to you. I know what you faced in there, how hard it must have been.”

  “Yes.” She stared down at her hands. “I can’t believe he’s still the principal.”

  “No charges were ever filed, Jenna.”

  There was not an ounce of reproach in his voice, but she felt weighed down just the same. “I should have done it, I know.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she dropped her head to the steering wheel. “But no one wanted to believe me.”

  A soft sound of regret escaped him, and she felt the light touch of his hand in her hair, confusing her. “You were young. And betrayed in the worst possible way. You can’t beat yourself up for how you reacted.”

  She didn’t answer, and cupping the nape of her neck, he gently forced her head up. “That’s exactly what you’ve been doing for ten years, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  He wouldn’t let her look away. “You’ve been running, not from me or Sara, or even the memory of your mother and Rand. You’ve been running from yourself.”

  The compassion and understanding in his voice was difficult to take because she thought it might be pity. How she hated having him feeling sorry for her. “No.”

  “Don’t lie. You promised you wouldn’t.”

  “I...” Sighing miserably, she closed her eyes. “I’m so mixed up, Stone. I just want...”

  “What?”

  “I want much more than this.” She spoke so quietly that Stone had to lean closer. A strand of her hair caught in the stubble on his chin, and he nearly succumbed to a desire to rub his face in her hair. His weakness for her sent irritation swimming through him. Remember her deceit, he reminded himself.

  “I want you and Sara to like me,” she admitted in that same uncertain voice.

  Stone let out a stream of air, releasing his annoyance. He of all people knew she had a right to feel so uncertain, so defensive, and it went a long way toward softening him.

  So did the memory of the terror on her face when he’d walked into that office and seen her in Rand’s arms. He’d completely forgotten his own pain and, instead, seen red. It hadn’t occurred to him until he’d had Rand pinned against the desk that the man couldn’t possibly have recognized her. That the pale and trembling Jenna had been reacting to her past.

  Yet this new Jenna was different from the old, far more sure of herself. So why had she allowed Rand Ridgeway to get to her like this?

  Did she honestly think so little of herself that she still didn’t think people would believe her? Believe in her?

  Stone looked at her more closely and saw the truth in her hunched position. in the defeat in her eyes. Jenna still didn’t believe in herself. She still didn’t realize that people could care for her, love her.

  On top of this, she was mortified at having to be “rescued,” so much so that she was sucking in all her emotions, desperate to hide her insecurity from him. And evidently she’d taken his thoughtful silence as a further rejection.

  Why was he thinking like this? Where had his anger gone?

  “I can’t stand knowing if you hate me...” She frowned. “Never mind. I’m sorry, please excuse me.” Pushing him away, she slammed her door shut and drove off.

  Stone stood there in the parking lot, devastated by all he felt.

  The realization of her insecurity tore at him. All she’d ever asked for was to know that he didn’t hate her.

  He didn’t. In spite of everything, in spite of how he wanted to, he couldn’t.

  So why hadn’t he told her? Was he that selfish? Yes. All he’d seen, all he’d felt, had centered around him. He hadn’t given her feelings a thought.

  “Dammit,” he muttered. And he ran to his truck to follow her.

  Chapter 12

  With grim determination, Stone kept Jenna’s little car in sight. It was hard to think, hard to follow a logical plan of action, and that alone was unusual for him. He gritted his teeth and lay the blame firmly at the feet of the person at fault.

  Himself.

  Ahead of him, Jenna took a right turn, heading north, and with a bleak resolution, so did Stone. He watched the ocean sparkle off to his left and argued with himself.

  Yes, he was still furious at Jenna. Yes, he was still trying to deal with her return to his and Sara’s life. But he had to make sure she got to wherever she was going in one piece, didn’t he?

  The hell he did. Still, he didn’t turn around. Images of Cindy floated through his mind.

  From the moment she’d come to town she’d been there for him. Never wavering. That was what confused him most. He was used to being on his own, in charge.

  Even years before, when Jenna had been in his life, he’d been the one with all the strength and calm. Back then she had depended on him.

  This time, however, there’d been a subtle shift, and he was drawn to her as an equal. Drawn also to her loyalty, her warmth and to her surprisingly iron will. She’d been open in a way she’d never been before and strong enough that he could lean on her.

  He’d grown to need her. How had that happened?

  Ahead of him, Jenna turned again, going up a hill into a quiet but older residential area on the bluffs at the outskirts of town.

  Even though she was running—again—he followed. This time was different, for he realized in his heart that he’d long ago forgiven her need to run, just as he’d now forgiven her need to be back.

  Yet it still didn’t change the fact that she’d destroyed his trust, and because of that, he found himself holding something back.

  Full forgiveness? Maybe. But more likely he wasn’t quite ready to let go of some of his resentment, which didn’t paint him in a flattering light He didn’t care. For the bottom line was that he wasn’t going to allow himself to fall again, no matter how much Jenna drew him in with her lovely solemn eyes, her natural warmth and basic goodness.

  Not when he knew damn well he’d end up hurt again.

  Jenna’s car slowed, and so did his. He hung back a bit, knowing she might take off if she suspected he was following her. She’d tried to be so brave in front of him when he just knew she was holding it together until she got home, alone, where she could fall apart in peace.

  He didn’t want her to cry alone. She’d been alone too long as it was.

  The truth hit hard. In spite of everything, in spite of holding a good part of himself back, he still wanted her. She was lovely and intelligent, and she’d gotten herself together, turned herself into the woman he’d always been confident she could be. He had no idea how to resist her, but he had to try. For himself and Sara, he had to try.

  She parked in front of a small house on the end of the street, then ran up the walk, her short hair flying. God, he thought, she has no idea about what kind of a woman she’s become.

  Knowing he was acting unconsciously, without acknowledging how hurt he still was, he parked and followed her—just to make sure she was okay, he reminded himself.

  Jenna didn’t go to the front door. Instead, she turned onto a small path and ran around the house. Opening a fence, she dashed into the backyard.

  Stone followed, frowning when he heard a small gasp of breath that sounded like a sob. For such a small house the backyard was huge. The foliage dominated it, and in a matter of two seconds, Jenna had disappeared into a stand of trees.

  “Jenna?” Blindly he plunged through the undergrowth and blinked when he came to a small clearing high on the bluff overlooking the ocean. The yard was fenced in, and the view of the Pacific far below was breathtaking. In the center of the clearing sat a lovely wooden table, several chairs and a chaise longue, which Jenna had plopped on, burying her face in
her arms.

  As a rule Stone was a man who carefully weighed the odds in any given situation. He liked to think of himself as calm and rational at all times.

  But all that dissolved when he saw Jenna so devastated. Her slim shoulders shook as she tried to contain the storm ravaging her, and something inside him cracked.

  He didn’t stop to think, but just moved forward on instinct, sinking to the chaise. “Jenna.”

  She jerked at the touch on her shoulder. “Just me,” he murmured, leaning over her as if he could protect her with his body from the nightmares of the past.

  “Go away,” she said in a barely audible voice, keeping her face hidden. “Please.”

  “I can’t leave you alone.” Gently he stroked her back, running his hand up and down her spine. “You know I can’t.”

  “You already have enough on your shoulders,” came her muffled voice. “You don’t have to take care of me, too.”

  “I know. You’re doing a fine job of that on your own. I just...” He paused. “Look at me,” he said softly, when she kept her wet eyes squeezed tight. His hands bracketed her hips as he leaned over her. “Jenna.”

  She opened her eyes slowly. “You’re still angry with me.”

  “Yeah.” They stared at each other. It became very close and still within the confines of the yard, their own private little forest. Above them, birds chirped and the wind blew lightly, keeping the air cool. Far below, the surf drummed at the foot of the cliffs.

  Looking down at Jenna now, Stone could see her so clearly. How could he not have known? With the sun shining in her hair, her mouth trembling, her eyes clinging to his, her...scars. God, her scars.

  Lifting a hand, he spread it flat over the web of scars on her neck, covering the worst of them as if he could take away the reality of them.

  “I hate thinking you had to go through all that alone,” he said gravely, feeling raw inside. He felt so mixed up, so confused. But he couldn’t deny his need to be with her, to help her. “Hate it. You should have called me to be with you.”

  “Stone—I know you must hate me—”

  “Shh. I don’t hate you.” Lightly, he danced his fingers over her skin, seeking to do nothing other than ease her lingering pain. He’d take it all away if he could. He needed to soothe her, because he knew she couldn’t do it for herself. Despite all his pent-up emotional uncertainty of the past, his future—hell, his present—he wanted to know Jenna was going to survive this. “I want you to be happy.”

  “I don’t deserve to be happy. Not after what I’ve done to you and to Sara.”

  “Stop it,” he admonished gently. “I haven’t worked through my own temper and hurt yet—that’s evident enough. But I mean it, Jenna. Your happiness is important to me.”

  “You’re too generous,” she said hoarsely. “Far too much so. How do you know I won’t hurt you both again?”

  “I don’t.” He met her gaze. He was probably being an idiot, but he let the statement stand because suddenly, he couldn’t bear to hurt her more than she’d already been hurt. “Be kind, will you?”

  “I will be,” she promised fervently. “Promise you believe me. Promise me, Stone, that you know I won’t hurt you or Sara ever again.”

  His hand stilled on her as he waged a terrible inner battle. He couldn’t lie, he just couldn’t. It simply wasn’t in him to tell anything but the hard, cold truth.

  “I believe you mean it,” he said carefully, his hand once again touching her.

  Her eyes fluttered closed at the gentle touch, and when she opened them again, she slipped her arms around his neck and tugged, bringing him down, down, to within a hairbreadth of her lips.

  She smiled at him. a smile filled with sadness and need and desire and hope. “That’s all I can ask for. I need you.”

  “It seems that I need you, too.”

  “It feels so good to hold you, Stone.”

  Hating that she was right, he pulled her closer, unable to draw away. He had to keep his hands on her, assure himself it was really Jenna.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered, pulling him closer still.

  Fulfilling this unfailing physical need wasn’t the answer... and yet, he couldn’t resist the pull of her arms, the yearning in her eyes, couldn’t have moved away to save his life. Maybe he couldn’t admit these feelings, but his body didn’t care. It knew where it belonged—with Jenna.

  “Kiss me,” she repeated, arching up, flattening her breasts to his chest and causing him to suck in a sharp breath at the delicious feel of her. “Please—”

  “Wait.” But despite his best intentions, when her lips touched his, instant heat consumed them. His hands slid up her rib cage, and her hands pulled his shirt out of his pants, then snaked beneath, racing over the bare skin of his back.

  “No more secrets between us,” she said breathlessly, dragging her mouth along his exposed throat and making him moan. At the sound she smiled shakily against his skin, but her smile turned into a gasp when he cupped her breasts. “Nothing between us, please, Stone. Nothing but this.”

  Helpless not to respond, he ran his hands down her torso, then back up. He understood the need to have nothing between them but skin because he felt it, too. No more secrets, no more lies. But he was torn, so unbelievably torn. And though he knew this would solve nothing, he couldn’t deny the yearning to hold her close. Just for now, just for a moment, he promised himself. “Jenna, I want you, I need you, but you know this isn’t the answer,” he said in one last ditch effort to be strong.

  “It is for now. Stone...there’s been no one but you.” Her eyes were bright as she met his gaze. “No one but you has ever made me feel this way. Do you remember how it was between us?”

  Perfect, it’d been perfect. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Come here,” she murmured, pulling him down. “Please, Stone...” Her hands played over his body, and he couldn’t resist, captive to his own memories, to his own needs.

  He wrestled with her buttons until the silky material of her dress was open to the waist.

  Exposed to him, she lay back and eagerly offered herself, but for a minute he didn’t move, mesmerized by the picture she made. Sunlight poured over her, casting her body in a beautiful golden glow. Her breasts swelled out of her bra, and her chest rose and fell with her quickened breathing. Her beauty took his breath away. “Jenna.”

  Bending over her, he slid her dress off her shoulders, kissing first a full curve of her breast, then a pebbled tip through the lace. The teasing and caressing made her gasp.

  “You do remember—” she whispered, closing her eyes when he moved his hips against her.

  “No one has ever been able to make me forget,” he confessed.

  “Oh, Stone—for me, either.” She pulled his shirt off, then ran her hands down his quivering stomach to cup him. Her fingers curled around his rigid length until his control and any coherent thought vanished.

  Past and present mingled in his head, along with an explosion of emotions. Aching, he unclasped her bra and drew a nipple into his mouth, thrilling to her soft whimpers. His hands slipped down, working at more buttons because he wanted her naked this time, flesh to flesh. But when he grasped the dress to drag it down, she stiffened and put her hands over his.

  “What?” Dipping, he kissed the spot near her hip where her hands held her dress to her. “What is it, Jenna?”

  “The ... tattoo.” Her voice sounded choked, full of tears, and he lifted his head to stare at her. “I’m sorry,” she said around a strangled sob. “I never got rid of it because I wanted to remember my past and how stupid I’d been.”

  “Jenna.” Tenderly, he gathered her hands in his, kissing her deeply and leisurely, evoking her helpless response. Before she could protest, he spread the unbuttoned dress and slipped down her body to kiss the small rose. “All of you, Jenna. It’s no good unless I have all of you.”

  Rearing up, she slid her fingers into his hair and kissed him back—a frantic passion-driven k
iss.

  “One of these days,” he muttered, “we’re going to make it to a bed and—” But he broke off when she pulled his undone trousers off his hips.

  “I don’t need a bed,” she told him. “All I need is you. You’re all I ever needed.” Her words sent him soaring even higher.

  Lurching to his feet, he kicked off his shoes and tore off his shirt and pants. Then he took off all of her clothes.

  When he sat and pulled her onto his lap, she went eagerly. Gripping her bottom, he held her over him, teasing her until she was writhing in his arms.

  “Wait,” he gasped, hot, hard and dying, but still he reached down and fumbled through his wallet for a condom. She helped him put it on, leaving him so near the edge he was shaking by the time he was sheathed.

  “Now,” she pleaded, as she took him inside her in one urgent downward thrust of her hips, taking in every inch until he was buried to the hilt.

  She rocked on him, wrenching a moan of pleasure from his throat as she continued to move. Their mouths clung and mated as their bodies strove and strained. Nuzzling a bare breast with his mouth, he slid a hand between their damp bodies, using his thumb to stroke the hot wet core of her.

  Her breathing turned into sobbing little pants, and she bent over his shoulder, moving with him while he kept up the torment. Suddenly she tensed and cried out his name, gripping him hard as she came in one long endless shudder.

  He couldn’t hold back, not with her sweet body in his arms, her low cries of passion ringing in his ears. With a rough helpless sound, he willingly followed her over the edge.

  When he was able to think again, Stone was afraid Jenna would do one of two things—ignore the heart-wrenching lovemaking they’d just shared or run off.

  She did neither; she drifted to his side drowsily. He held her close, surprised at his need to do so. But there was still so much unresolved. He was still full of burning questions, still harboring serious resentment and anger, and worst of all, he knew she was holding back, hiding behind their physical attraction, protecting the part of her she was afraid to show him. In a way, they were both hiding, both afraid, and he hated that. How could they ever put the past behind them?