Long-Lost Mom Read online

  “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