Jill Shalvis - Long-Lost Mom

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.

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.

God, he loved her. He wanted to keep her healthy and safe for always.

Just a couple of weeks ago he’d have said he’d do this alone, without his family, without anyone. But that was before three monumental events had occurred, each equally staggering.

He’d lost his brother, forever.

He’d seen his parents and experienced firsthand the proof that they were indeed greatly affected by Sara.

And he’d started to fall for a woman.

It was the last one that had his heart tripping with unaccustomed nerves.

But then he walked up the path to his house and got a very pleasant surprise.

Cindy was sitting on his steps, looking lovely and wary and warm and anxious, making him wish he had two more arms with which to hold her, too.

Her eyes fell to the dead-to-the-world child cradled against him, and her face seemed to crumble. Stone watched in wonder as her mysterious dark eyes filled with a staggering tender emotion.

“Hey, there,” he whispered, shifting Sara so he could unlock the front door.

“Hey, back. Hope you don’t mind my showing up so early,” she said quietly. “But I wanted to be here in case you needed… or in case Sara… Well, I thought maybe you could use the company.” Her breath escaped her all in one big rush as she sagged, looking fragile and very beautiful. “I’m sorry,” she said finally, lifting her uncertain gaze to his. “I just hoped I could… I mean, I just wanted-”

He leaned over Sara and kissed her. “I’m very glad you wanted, thought, hoped, et cetera.”

“Good,” she said unevenly, staring at his mouth in a way that made him instantly hard. “Glad you’re glad, ’cause I have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to you.”

“Whatever it is, it’s working for me.”

“I…have to talk to you.”

“Yes, I remember.” Some of her tension transferred itself to him. What was the matter? he asked himself. What had her looking so horrified and hopeful at the same time?

“Are you… all right?” she questioned as she helped him open the door. “Was it hard?”

“I’m better now,” he told her. “Somehow. I know that sounds strange-”

“It doesn’t,” she assured him. “I know what you mean.”

He looked at her, saw the compassion and understanding and grief in her face and realized she did know exactly what he’d been trying to say.

At some point in her life, maybe several times, she’d lost someone important to her. “I’m sorry,” he said gently.

Again he got that sad little smile, the one that made him want to grab her and hold tight. They walked through the big living room.

“Hold on a sec,” he told her, and carefully settled a still-sleeping Sara on the couch. He was covering her with a quilt when he sensed Cindy behind him. Turning, he was once again struck by the way she was looking at his daughter.

It was as if she was starving-not physically, but emotionally, as though desperate to give love. And uncertain it would be returned.

His heart contracted, and as soon as he’d tucked in his child, he reached for Cindy and pulled her close.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, wrapping her arms around him, sinking her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck and holding on in a heart-stopping possessive grip. The strangest thing happened. The embrace triggered in Stone unwanted memories of another woman, in another time, touching him in exactly this same way, as if she couldn’t make herself let go.

As if he was her entire world.

Startled, Stone pulled back and stared at Cindy for a long moment.

“What is it?” she asked quickly, withdrawing as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have.

“Nothing.” Tugging her back against him, he tried to forget that twinge of warning unease. “Nothing. Touch me again.”