Jenna was long gone now. She’d not had enough belief in justice to see the crisis through. That, combined with the problem of getting pregnant too young, had made her fall apart.
Stone didn’t blame her for getting pregnant or even for the need to run. But he did blame her for not trusting him or herself enough to let their love prevail.
“I think it depends on your attitude,” he said carefully, “and how hard you try. If you’re looking for a new start, this is a great place to do it. Do you have family?”
She dropped her gaze, studied the tabletop. “Family?”
“As in people related to you?”
“Not really.”
“You’re so talkative,” he said, grinning.
She looked at him, startled, and finally seemed to realize he was teasing her. A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “Okay, let me rephrase that,” she offered. “Yes, technically I have family. But we don’t act like family. Does that clear things up?”
If she’d asked him the same thing, his answer wouldn’t have been much different. Yes, he had family. But they didn’t want to be part of his life.
Simple as that.
“Clear as mud,” he said. “Where do you come from?”
She crossed her arms. Then, as if realizing what that gave away, she uncrossed them, making him smile sympathetically. She frowned at him in response. “You’re full of questions. And I don’t like to talk about myself.”
Maybe she’d been alone all her life, which would account for the way she protected herself. By keeping people at bay, she couldn’t get hurt.
He understood the philosophy. At one time, deserted by everyone he’d ever cared about, he might have gone down that same path. He hadn’t, partly because he was an innate people person. But mostly, despite what had happened to him, he believed people were basically good.
Maybe Cindy hadn’t learned that, and at the thought of someone hurting her, his chest tightened. He wanted her; he had from the first moment he’d seen her. But now that wanting changed, deepened into something else. Something sharper and more defined.
He wanted to protect her, and the fierceness of this desire was startling. Oh, he’d wanted women before, lots of them; it was just that never, since Jenna, had he felt it quite so piercingly. He didn’t stop to think about the significance of that; he simply absorbed it with his usual acceptance of change.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered.
“Like what?”
“Like...you care.”
They stared at each other. “Because I do,” Stone finally said. “I look at you and I feel... something. I didn’t like it at first, which is why I took off on you at the beach. But now—now it makes me want to keep caring.”
Her mouth opened, then slowly closed. “You’re scaring me.”
“Well, that makes two of us,” he said.
“I don’t want this,” Cindy told him, shifting nervously. “I don’t want you to think I matter.”
“But you do matter.”
“I don’t...I shouldn’t,” she said, sounding a bit desperate.
“Of course you should.”
She stared at him, soaking it in. A disparaging sound escaped her. “Stone...”
He loved the sound of his name of her lips. Loved it, and wanted to hear it again. “What?”
“What am I doing?” She looked lost, confused. “I just came to watch a basketball game. Just wanted to acclimate myself, and now look at me.” She lifted a bewildered hand. “I’m...”
“You’re what?”
“I’m doing something I shouldn’t, that’s what.”
“Which is?”
“Wanting you.” As soon as the words left her, she slapped both hands over her mouth, her eyes wide and wild. She shook her head violently, as if denying what she’d just admitted. “I didn’t mean... I just meant... I’ve got to go.” She leaped to her feet. “I... Bye.”
Stone caught her just before she would have disappeared into the crowd. “Don’t.”
Her chest rose and fell as if she’d just raced a mile uphill. She glanced down at his hand on her, which he slowly ran down her forearm until their hands met. Hers was slender, delicate, easily swallowed up by his. Entwining their fingers, he squeezed gently. “I didn’t mean to scare you off. You came here to start over, and you’re doing fine. Don’t go yet.”
Her gaze jerked to his. “I never said I was starting over.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“And now we’ve met and you’re nervous. It’s sweet,” he said, smiling when she blushed. “But you’ll be okay. I know it seems unreal, but you’re not alone. Already you’re not alone.”
She stared at him with something akin to marvel. Again, just looking at her tugged at his heart, made him want to take her in his arms and never let go.
Which made no sense, none at all.
A waitress tried to move past them. Stone sat and pulled Cindy back down, this time in the same side of the booth as him. Their thighs brushed, and he felt his body react at just that innocent touch.
“I’d be okay alone, you know,” she said, not sounding nearly as confident as she clearly wanted to. She was nervous and frightened, a combination Stone could never fully resist because he knew well what it felt like.
“I’m used to it,” she added.
“Yeah. You’re fine.” He smiled. “You’re going to be okay. But you don’t have to be alone.”
“I don’t know what to say to you.”
“Say nothing.” He ran a thumb over her knuckles, enjoying the softness of her skin. “Just know I’m here if you need me and you’re going to do great.”
“I am.”
“I know.”
“It’s not going to be nearly as hard as it sounds.” Some of her enthusiasm came back. “I’ve had a lot of experience. I’ve worked temp jobs for years. It was a great way to travel and still have money. And I did some college at night, took some business classes. Plus, my initial investment is minimal and—”
“Cindy.”
“It only takes a small office and some know-how—”
“Cindy—”
“So I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure, too.” He narrowed his eyes, taking in the strain so evident on her pale face. “Hey... are you okay?”
“I...” A puff of air escaped her as she deflated. She set her forehead on the table. “I’m fine. Feeling stupid, but other than that, just fine.”
“Stupid?”
Pulling her hand free, she shot him a sheepish smile. “I don’t often unload on strangers, then admit to...well, you know.”
He grinned.