by Jill Shalvis
“Jenna—”
“Not yet, Stone,” she whispered, shivering when the breeze danced over their damp bodies. “Please, not yet.”
His chest tightened and he pulled her closer. “It won’t just all go away.”
“I know. I don’t expect it to.”
Holding her, he stared up at the sky and listened to their breathing return to normal. Far below, down the cliffs, he could hear the ocean, and it soothed his racing thoughts.
And even as he let her draw him back for more, the fist around his heart didn’t ease. The fist which held the knowledge that Jenna was holding back, protecting herself from him, and as long as she did that, she didn’t fully trust him.
She may never fully trust him, and nothing could hurt more than that. Except him not trusting her.
“Jenna.”
At the big warm hand on her back and the sound of Stone’s sleep-husky voice, she awoke and smiled into her pillow—until she remembered.
She was in her own bed. Stone had carried her here in his arms, the romantic gesture making her heart melt. Then he’d dropped her tenderly on her bed and...well, they’d finally made it to a bed.
Because she had instigated it.
She’d felt like a child when she’d faced Rand Ridgeway. A young terrified child who’d been neglected, molested and then tossed out for her “lies.”
In response the supposedly grown-up Jenna had acted predictably. She’d reverted to her bad-girl status, begging for attention, and oh, Lord, she’d certainly gotten it.
She and Stone had always been sheer magic together, but this afternoon, it’d been heaven.
And for all the wrong reasons.
He hadn’t made her talk. He hadn’t been able to since she’d kept dragging him back to her body. Just remembering how shameless she’d been made her want to curl up and die.
Yet even after sheer exhaustion had set in, he’d been patient about her inability to put words to her feelings. He could have no idea how much it meant, but she would be sure to tell him.
As soon as she could look him in the eye without wanting to cringe in embarrassment.
“We have to talk, Jenna.”
She froze. “Those words never precede anything good,” she said lightly. But she turned over and faced him. Chest bare, jeans unfastened, his eyes solemn, he sat on the edge of the bed looking sexy as hell.
“I have so many questions, Jenna.” His expression was tense. “You can’t ignore them no matter how much you might want to.”
More shame filled her, since he’d hit the nail right on the head. She did wish she could bury her head in the sand. Having no idea what to say, she touched his thigh, hoping the words would come to her.
“Are you going to say anything?” he asked, gripping the hand she’d placed on him. “Or try to delay this little chat with more sex?”
She drew herself up, crossing her arms. Somehow, she thought she could tell him how she felt with her body, but that was wrong. He deserved more. Why couldn’t she give it? What was she still afraid of? If she wasn’t careful, she might never see him—or Sara—again.
But even that terrifying thought didn’t make answers leap to her tongue, and helplessly mute, she stared at him.
His jaw tightened and his probing gaze searched hers while the silence deepened. “I guess that’s my answer.” He rose. “I have to be at the shop when Sara’s bus gets there.”
He finished dressing, silent and angry, his movements jerky. Jenna watched him, heart aching as she clutched the sheet to her chin. She felt so naked. She was going to lose him right now. And she didn’t know how to stop it, what to do to make it okay.
He went to the door and stopped with his hand on the knob. “You know where I’ll be,” he said, “if you decide you want to talk.”
He hesitated, waiting.
Even now, after this, he was going to give her the chance to repair the horrible damage. To explain why she had slept with him yet couldn’t figure out how to open her heart to him. Humiliation rose like bile, and she bit her lip, keeping her silence—not because she wanted to, but because she honestly didn’t know how to change herself. All she did know was that wanting to trust him with the real Jenna and actually doing so were two entirely different things.
“Stone, please.” Please what? She wondered frantically. What could she say to make him stay? What was it exactly that he wanted from her? God, she didn’t know, and frustration overwhelmed her.
He stared at her, slowly shaking his head. “It hurts, you know. That after this, after what we shared today, and in our past, you still don’t trust me enough to share yourself.”
It was true, and that truth slashed at her. “I want to,” she cried, feeling a hot tear slide down her cheek. “I want you and Sara so much I ache with it.”
“Don’t you see?” he questioned softly, his voice heavy with regret and hurt and even anger. “It’s not enough to want. You have to do it. You have to stop running, Jenna. Stop running.”
He looked at her, but when she didn’t speak—couldn’t speak—he left, shutting the door quietly behind him.
By the next morning Jenna was exhausted. Sleep had eluded her; so had any peace of mind.
Instead of going to work, she went to the beach, the place that had once been one of her few safe havens. Sitting on the same rock where she’d first seen Stone again, she concentrated on watching the waves.
Logically she knew she should have faced him the day before. But much as she might regret it, it was too late to be adult about it now.
Or was it?
A figure was walking toward her. Stone. Though she wore dark glasses, she still had to hold a hand up to block the glare of the morning sun before risking a closer look. He didn’t seem surprised to see her, which meant he’d come looking for her.
Without a word, he stopped in front of the rock, as always the picture of calm. But Jenna knew better than to trust what she saw before her, for she’d seen him lose that famed control on several occasions. A couple of them made her blush now.
A light salty wind blew, cooling her heated face. The surf tumbled toward the shore, making the day seem eerily normal.
“Are you still angry?” she whispered.
“Hell, yes.”
She nodded and tried to keep her feelings hidden. “I see.”
“But I still couldn’t stay away, damn you.”
“Oh.” Unreasonable hope flared inside her. He looked miserable, which should make her feel horrible, and it did, really. But if he was miserable, then he still cared.
Or so she hoped.
“I have no idea why I’m here,” he admitted quietly.
“Maybe for some explanation of what’s happening?” she asked by way of her own apology.
“That might be nice.” He took a deep breath. “Why did you come back, Jenna?”
“I realized I’d been a fool.”
“Ah, I see.” All traces of good humor vanished. “So just like my parents, ten years go by and suddenly—poof!” He lifted his hands in the air. “You magically feel you have to make amends?”
“Not quite like that, no.”
“Like what, then? Like maybe life on the run isn’t any fun anymore, so let’s go back to Stone because he’s such an easygoing guy he’ll jump at the chance to reunite?”
“Not like that, either,” she whispered, bringing a hand up to her cheek.
“That little gesture of vulnerability isn’t going to work, Jenna. Neither is hiding behind those glasses.” His grating tone, his flashing eyes, told her the opposite. Her gesture had touched him, unbearably so, fueling his temper.
She dropped her hand immediately.
His voice was hard. “I’m trying to understand but it’s damned hard since you haven’t said much. Maybe you decided that since your baby was no longer a baby, since all the hard work had been done, she’d be easier to handle. Is that it?”
“No. No!”
“Then tell me, dammit. Tell me about
your epiphany. Tell me and try to make me care.”
“I was in a car accident.”
A muscle in his jaw leaped. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her from carefully hooded eyes. “I know. You told me.”
“But there’s more, a lot more, only you haven’t wanted to hear it.”
She waited, although it was the hardest thing she’d ever done. But her patience won out.
“Okay, but without these.” With a flick of his wrist he removed her sunglasses.
“Okay?” she repeated, squinting against the painful glare.
“Okay, go on,” he said, giving her the one thing she wanted above all else.
Permission to explain herself. And God willing, he’d also forgive her. Because then, just maybe, she could claim back her old life. Maybe even have Stone and Sara in that life.
Chapter 13
What Jenna would have given to have Stone take her in his capable arms—the way he would have if she was still Cindy.
But she’d made that impossible.
At least he was listening. She told herself she wouldn’t blow this chance.
“The accident,” he said, moving closer so that he faced her. “You wanted to start there.”
“I almost died.” She thought about how many people she’d hurt in her life. “Should have died.”
“No,” he interrupted, his brows coming together in a line of annoyance. “You still don’t get it, don’t you? You didn’t deserve that accident, no matter what you’d done. No one deserves something like that.”
His words were hard, firm, his arms still crossed over his chest, but the slight softening around his hard mouth gave her courage.
“I’m working on believing that.” She inhaled deeply. “Anyway, it took me a while to recover.”
“A while?”
“A year,” she admitted.
He dropped his hands to his sides. Much of his aggression drained, and when he spoke, his urgency told her how much he cared. “Are there any injuries I can’t see?”
“My eyes bother me sometimes. They were pretty badly damaged.”
“Which is why you wear those dark glasses and contacts?” When she nodded, regret crossed his face. “Not because...”
“I never made a conscious decision to hide from you, Stone. It just sort of happened.”
She watched realization dawn on him, then saw self-disgust cross his face. Solemnly he handed back her glasses. “Wear them,” he said, jaw tight. “Your eyes are watering.” Then he moved so she could face him and turn her back to the sun.
Carefully slipping her sunglasses on, she said, “Somewhere between the hospital and healing, I realized I’d been given a second chance at life.” She hesitated, hoping to get past all his anger and reluctant sympathy, to the living, breathing, loving man beneath. “I went face first through a windshield and down a two-hundred-foot cliff. That’s what I meant when I said I should have died. But I didn’t. I figure that means something, don’t you?”
“You make your own fate, Jenna.” The wind tugged at his dark hair as he stood there looking at her. “I’ve always thought that.”
He had. She could remember him telling that to her ten years ago, on a night filled with tears and anger over something her mother had done.
Jenna had ditched school—again—to go four-wheeling in the mountains with some friends. She was a surprisingly good student, but school bored her, so she often skipped classes to brighten her days.
Her mother had gotten chewed out by Rand Ridgeway, who was incensed by Jenna’s absences. So her mother turned on Jenna.
You’re an idiot.
You’ll never amount to anything, not like Kristen.
You’ll be a hindrance to me for the rest of your life.
Jenna had heard them all—more times than she could remember.
Stone had taken her back up the mountains that night. There, at the peak, overlooking the valley below, he’d taken her in his arms and told her she could make of her life whatever she wanted—and nothing anyone said could make a difference. Unless she let it.
Jenna had looked into his calm affection-filled eyes and panicked. She hadn’t believed him, for it had been much easier to believe what her mother said. That she was indeed a pathetic loser and would never amount to anything.
She’d spent years believing it. Years. All wasted. That she’d nearly proved her mother right was devastating.
“I’ve spent a lot of years dodging my fate,” she said now, turning her face into the sun, enjoying the ocean air.
He dropped wearily onto the rock, taking care not to touch her. “Why are you back?”
“Mostly because I’ve always wanted to come back. Always,” she repeated at his look of doubt. “But it wasn’t until after the accident that I found the courage.”
“Your new face.” He sighed. “It’s beautiful, Jenna. You’re beautiful. But how you look doesn’t matter.”
“I know that. But somehow the shield of anonymity gave me strength. I know that sounds silly to someone like you, who’s never doubted himself...”
His eyes flashed. “That’s not true.”
“Really? When have you ever been uncertain about anything?”
He surged to his feet again and, planting his hands on his hips, he glared at her and said, “Too damn many times.”
“Name one.”
“I was uncertain ten years ago that I could keep you safe. And alive,” he added bitterly. “Or that I could show you how good life could be.”
Shock held her immobile.
He turned away, clearly disgusted at himself for the admission.
“Stone—”
“No,” he snapped, turning back and pointing at her. “You wanted to know, so I’m going to tell you.” He let out a short laugh, tossed his head back and stared at the sky. “I was uncertain as hell when I started to fall for Cindy.” He looked at her then, his eyes full of challenge. “How’s that for honesty, Jenna? Blunt, no-holds-barred honesty.” He lifted his brows. “You’re still here? Well, good. You haven’t run yet. Maybe you’ll hang around, after all.”
“Stone—”
“We were talking about uncertainty,” he interrupted her tightly. “Which just about defines my world—has ever since you told me the truth about who you were. And once again we’re back to the million-dollar question. Why are you really back?” He sat back down on the rock, making her all too aware of the powerful body only a few feet from hers. A body she knew could give strength and courage—but this time she needed to find her own.
“I had to right my wrongs.”
“So you keep saying.” He stared at her. “So that’s what this is really all about? You think you wronged us. Sara and me, and you want to fix it? Then when you’re finished, you’ll be off on your merry way to start a new life?”
“No.” She let out a puff of air and stared at the churning surf. “I’m not doing this right.”
“No kidding.” In one fluid motion he was again on his feet. “And I’m too busy to play games with you.”
She saw her past, present and future running away from her. She couldn’t let him go. “Wait!” she cried, leaping up, grabbing his arm, tugging at him until he turned to face her. “Please, Stone. The truth is simple. I have wronged you and Sara. And yes, I want the chance to make it up to both of you, but I’m not fool enough to hope you’ll easily let me do that.”
“I don’t want you to make it up to us.” Beneath her hand his muscles tensed. “I didn’t keep Sara as a favor to you, Jenna. I kept her because she’s my flesh and blood. Because there were two people responsible that night you got pregnant, and I was one of them. I looked high and low for you all these years to tell you that, to tell you that no matter what you’d decided back then, I’d intended to be a major part of Sara’s life. She’s mine and I love her, and I don’t ever think of her as an obligation.”
“You...looked for me?”
“I didn’t want you running because of me.�
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The knowledge was like a warm balm on her raw wounds.
“Forget it,” he said. “Sara is no longer your obligation.” His voice was harsh, reminding her that this man wasn’t here to heal her wounds. She was here to heal his. “She’s my child, my life. And I won’t have you hurt her any more than she’s already been hurt.”
“But—”
He cut her off, still furious. “So if you’re thinking I’ll introduce you, then watch you break her heart when you’re done ‘righting your wrongs,’ you couldn’t be more mistaken.”
A couple out for a run passed them. The sun beat down. Waves crashed. Life went on around them as Jenna’s world began to collapse. Again.
“I’m not going to leave, Stone,” she said quietly. “I’m here in San Paso Bay for good.”
“You say that now.” Tiredly he removed her hand from his forearm, making her feel abandoned. “You think you want to stay, but when things get tough, you’ll be out of here fast enough.”
“How dare you!”
“How dare I?” He laughed humourlessly. “That’s good, Jenna. I suppose you’re going to deny taking off from the hospital without even saying goodbye.” He lowered his voice when a few kids raced by. “Without so much as a damn word only hours after Sara’s birth. I worried myself sick over you and your condition, and what you would do, where you would go... Why am I even saying this?” Shaking his head, he clamped his mouth shut and studied the stretch of beach in front of them.
He’d worried himself sick over her.
She’d deserted him in his greatest time of need, and still, his thoughts had been for her. Hard to maintain anger now, when her heart was cracking open and dying, but she had to finish. She looked at him. She was so full of things she wanted and needed to say she hardly knew where to start.
“I’m staying this time.”
He lifted a mocking brow.
“You know nothing about me anymore, Stone. Please, could you try not to judge me on what that seventeen-year-old girl would have done?”
His response surprised her. “You’re judging me.”
