Jill Shalvis - Long-Lost Mom

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.

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.”