him on, heightening his awareness of her as a gentle woman, sexy as hell and damp in all the right places. Her thoughts veered, picturing him naked, her hands all over him, her mouth following . . .
Abruptly, Stan pushed away from her. Bending forward, his elbows on his knees, he tapped his fisted hands against his chin. She tortured him without even knowing it.
Not looking at Jenna, determined to get her mind off sex so he could think straight, he asked, “How much do you know about my past?”
Her confusion warred with her instinctive need to offer comfort. “I know what the press has shared.” Her hand touched his back, resting on his shoulder blade. “I know that you got in trouble a few times when you were younger.”
Feeling dangerous, Stan twisted to face her. “I’ve been convicted of assault and battery.”
Her fingers stilled. “You beat someone up?”
“The creep was going to jump a guy we worked with. He and his girlfriend had broken up, and she’d chosen this other guy . . .” Stan ran a hand through his hair. “He was going to wait for him by his car one night and use a tire iron on him. So I stopped him.”
Her comforting fingers again drifted over his back. “And they convicted you for that?”
Stan could understand her astonishment. Under normal circumstances, he’d be considered a hero.
Only there was nothing normal about the way he got his information.
“I got a year’s suspended sentence.”
“But . . .”
“No one knew what he intended, Jenna, and I couldn’t prove it.” Stan turned completely to face her until their knees touched. He clasped her wrist. “My wife cheated on me. That’s why I divorced her.”
His jump in topic left her floundering, but her concern and caring remained a live thing, drowning out her puzzlement at his current mood. “Stan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that.”
“I wanted what you had, Jenna. Trust, love, fidelity. That’s not what I got. Within a month, she’d gone bed hopping.”
Her heart was soft and open to him, and that left her exposed. But she was the type of woman who always cared deeply about others, too much to protect herself. “How did you find out?”
She thought he’d walked in on the sordid scene and she hurt for him. The truth was worse. Stan pulled away from her and looked up at the sky. This was harder than he’d ever imagined. “The moon will be out soon.”
More confusion, then impatience. “I don’t understand this fixation you have about the moon. It’s like you’re trying to tell me something—or maybe several things—but you’re not being clear.”
“I know.” He felt like a damn coward but decided to take her home before telling her. Ryan could awaken any minute, interrupting them. But once she had him tucked into bed, Stan would be in a better position.
If his truths shocked her too much, he could always take advantage of her sexual attraction to bring her back to him. No, he wouldn’t make love to her with her kids in range, but he could kiss her silly, heat her up with a touch, make whispered, sensual promises that would leave her desperate to accept him, on any level.
“It’s getting late. We should be heading back.”
Her pride kept her from pushing him. Back going straight, chin lifting, Jenna said, “All right. Fine. If that’s what you want.”
He’d hurt her, when that was the last thing he wanted to do. But he’d make it up to her. After he talked her around her disbelief, he’d prove to her that he could be everything she wanted in a man, and more.
Turning on the boat lights both stern and aft lent a mellow glow to the cabin. The sun had long since sunk behind the hills, leaving the sky dark with shades of deep lavender and gray. A few stars appeared, surrounding the moon that hung like a fat crystal ball, taunting him.
Jenna remained oblivious to it all as she struggled to understand what had happened. Stan finished lifting the anchor, then glanced at her and cursed softly. She thought he’d led her on. She thought he’d changed his mind about wanting her.
He pulled her resisting body close, until her breasts were against his chest and their heartbeats mingled.
“Jenna,” he said, and pressed a kiss to her forehead, to her chin, and finally on her pursed mouth. “It’s a lot to ask, but do you think you could trust me just a little longer?”
“What does trust have to do with it?”
He kneaded her shoulders and put his forehead to hers. “Everything. It has everything to do with it. We’ll talk when you’ve got Ryan in bed. Okay?”
“I won’t sleep with you at my house.”
She sounded so prudish, Stan smiled. “I already know that, but for the record, I wouldn’t ask you to.” He smoothed his thumb over her chin. “I have scruples, too, you know. And I like your kids. I wouldn’t do anything to upset them.”
She only half believed him. “Well . . . all right, then.”
“Good.” Half was better than not at all. “Let’s get home.” The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could have her in his bed. He glanced at Ryan. “Want me to move him back here?”
Curled on the padded bow seats, Ryan looked comfortable and down for the count. He didn’t awaken even when the engine roared to life.
“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Jenna pulled on her over-tunic, settled in the passenger seat beside Stan, and looked over the calm surface of the lake. “Rachelle was always a light sleeper, like me. But Ryan is like his dad. A herd of stampeding buffalo wouldn’t wake him. He’ll probably sleep straight through the night.”
And with a little luck, Stan thought, Jenna would accept his odd relationship with the moon. Because one way or another, she’d have to accept him. Now that he knew so much about her, he knew she was meant to be his.
Convincing her would be the trick.
Five
Rachelle pulled up about the same time that Stan parked his SUV in the drive. Dividing her attention between Stan’s strange behavior, her sleeping son, and the fact that her daughter just left Terrance’s car with the slamming of his car door and without a farewell kiss, Jenna automatically prioritized.
She opened her car door and stepped out. The full moon filled the yard with light, making the porch lamp unnecessary. “Rachelle? Is everything okay?”
Already on her way toward them, Rachelle ignored how Terrance sped away. “I’m great,” she said, with the false brightness Jenna recognized as anger. “Fine, perfect, peachy-keen.”
Jenna had a very bad feeling about this. “What happened?”
Suddenly Stan was beside her. His hands landed on her shoulders and he pulled her back into his chest. “Nothing that Rachelle couldn’t handle,
