Star Quality. Lori Foster

they drove off, Jenna again cautioned her daughter to be careful and made her promise she’d call if she was later than midnight.

      On the way to the lake, Jenna was quiet, but then Ryan talked nonstop, leaving little room for adult conversation. Stan didn’t mind. He enjoyed Ryan’s chatter, and he sensed the peacefulness of Jenna’s mood. She simply enjoyed the ride and her son’s giddiness.

      Ryan loved Stan’s SUV and asked permission to touch every single button and knob. Stan figured if he liked the car, he’d go bonkers over his Stingray 220DR deck boat that looked a lot like a pontoon on steroids. When Ryan spotted the boat, Stan wasn’t disappointed with his reaction.

      He’d nearly run to the dock when Jenna caught him and hauled him back. Her rules required a life preserver before Ryan got anywhere near the murky lake water.

      Golden Lake had one small station to gas up your boat and a goodie shack that sold everything from ice cream to beer to bait. Stan loaded up on snacks, pre-made sandwiches, and bought plenty of colas to stow in the ice chest beneath the fresh water sink in the cabin.

      The rest of the evening went by in a blur for Stan. He’d never dated a woman with kids, and his ex-wife hadn’t wanted any. Ryan on water was a revelation. He went tubing for what seemed like forever, never tiring, loving the big waves and the sun and the cold spray of water from the boat. Since Jenna enjoyed it, too, and he enjoyed watching her, Stan had no complaints.

      Afterward, he dropped anchor in the mossy cove. Jenna and Ryan had put on sunscreen earlier, but they needed a fresh application. When she finished with her son, Stan took the bottle from her hands.

      “Let me.”

      She glanced at Ryan, who sat on the back of the boat, his feet braced on the ladder, his rod cast out near the shore. When her gaze came back to Stan, it was hotter than the evening sun. “All right.”

      She had already removed her tunic, and Stan eyed her golden shoulders and collarbone, and the way the tank top hugged her breasts. Unless he missed his guess, she wasn’t wearing a bra. With the summer heat, it made sense to wear as little as possible, but he’d never seen her without a bra. His palms itched to hold her, to feel the shape and weight of her breasts, to explore her nipples . . .

      Swallowing a groan, he poured a small amount of sunscreen into his palms and said, “Lift your hair.”

      She did so slowly, and it was such a provocative pose that Stan couldn’t help but think of sexual things. As he smoothed the sunscreen onto her neck, shoulders, and upper chest, she dropped her hair, and her eyes closed.

      If her son weren’t sitting a few feet away, singing off key to the Beach Boys in the CD player, he’d show Jenna just how close to reality her imagination had gotten.

      But her son was near, and that meant Stan had to behave himself, no matter how hard behaving might be.

      Hard being the operative word.

      With an apologetic smile, Stan kissed the tip of her nose and went over the side of the boat into the icy water.

      The splash drew Ryan’s attention, and he quickly reeled in his line so he could swim, too. The water cooled Stan’s ardor, but nothing could appease the growing ache in his heart—except having Jenna for his own.

      Permanently.

       Four

      After a long swim, Ryan took turns eating and fishing, which meant Jenna had her work cut out for her trying to keep worm slime off his hands and out of the pretzel bag. The sink got more use in one day than it ever had in the rest of the time Stan had owned the boat. Ryan claimed they had everything they needed, so they never had to go back.

      Jenna told him they at least had to be home when Rachelle returned from her date. She kept her cell phone out and available so she wouldn’t miss a call, and Stan wondered if she wasn’t maybe more aware of Terrance’s intentions than he’d first assumed.

      After catching several fish that he threw back for being too small, Stan put away his rod and folded out the backseats. When opened, they supplied the space equivalent to a bed. Shirtless, wearing only his still damp shorts, he settled into the corner with an icy cola and stretched out his legs to watch Jenna play mom.

      By the time Ryan began to wind down, the sun had sunk low in the sky, turning everything around it crimson red. Wearing trunks, a life preserver, and a towel, Ryan half lounged in the bow seats, his hair tangled from sun, wind, and water, his hands limp on the fishing rod.

      The CD player sent music over the surface of the lake. Somewhere off in the distance, a cow lowed. Along the shore, frogs croaked. Back in the cove, away from the power boats and jet skis, it was peaceful. And . . . comforting.

      As Ryan nodded off, Jenna slid the pole from his hand and reeled it in. She rolled up a towel to use for a pillow and eased Ryan to his side. He didn’t awaken.

      “Amazing.” Stan watched the boy sleep and shook his head. The rocking of the boat lulled him, too, but he couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever, not even as a kid, fallen asleep so easily.

      “He sleeps like a baby,” Jenna told him, taking the seat facing Stan, her bare feet curled under her, her hair dancing in the breeze. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Thank you, Stan. This has been wonderful. I’d forgotten just how relaxing the water can be, how all your worries just seem to disappear.”

      His gaze trained on her serene features, Stan asked, “What worries do you have, Jenna?”

      “The same as any other mother, I suppose.” Her eyes stayed closed, and her voice whispered past her smiling mouth. “Luckily, I’ve been blessed with really terrific kids.”

      Stan figured that had more to do with her than anything else. “You’re a terrific mom.”

      “I try.” The smile faded and she sighed again. “I only want them to be happy. It’s not always easy. But Stan?” Her lashes lifted and she looked directly at him, inadvertently sharing with him everything she felt, everything that was near and dear in her heart. “Thank you for today. It’s the most fun Ryan’s had in ages.”

      A lump the size of a grapefruit lodged in Stan’s throat. “For me, too.”

      She didn’t believe him. She thought he wanted to get laid and was doing what he thought necessary to make it happen. Not a nice opinion of him, but given his colorful past and even his more current public lifestyle, Stan couldn’t really blame her.

      But he could convince her otherwise. Stan patted the seat beside him. “Come here, woman, and let me kiss you.”

      Rather than refuse him, she glanced at Ryan. “He’s still sleeping.”

      Stan nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

      Her bottom lip got caught in her teeth. Feeling guilty, then determined, she glanced again at Ryan before sliding out of the seat and over next to Stan. He put his arm around her and tugged her into his side. Even with the setting sun, the temperatures still hung in the upper eighties, but a soft breeze stirred the air.

      Eyes searching, Jenna peered up into his face—and Stan was lost.

      He cupped her cheek and gently touched his mouth to hers. Her dewy skin held the fragrance of the wind and the lake—and woman, an aphrodisiac so powerful that Stan had to struggle to keep himself in check. He wanted to absorb her, to nuzzle into all her dark, damp places and fill himself with the luscious scent of her.

      Instead, he contented himself with tasting her mouth, keeping things easy and gentle, when inside, his blood raged and his heart thundered. He wanted her, more than he’d ever wanted any other woman.

      Maybe more than he’d ever wanted anything else in his life.

      He had to start sharing some truths.

      Against her lips, he murmured, “Even two days from a full moon, the moon can be ninety-seven