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
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.
“No,” he interrupted, his brows coming together in a line of annoyance. “You
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.
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.
