Star Quality. Lori Foster

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, isn’t that right, Rachelle?”

      Jenna saw her daughter’s mouth twist in a wry smile. “If you call bashing the little weasel over the head handling it, then yeah, I handled it.” Rachelle lifted her wrist and checked out the illuminated face of her watch. “Hey, it’s only ten-thirty. I thought you guys would hang out longer.”

      An obvious attempt to change the subject, but Jenna wasn’t ready to let it go. “Rachelle . . .”

      Again, Stan squeezed her shoulders, almost as if to convince her to put off her questions. She didn’t want to, but perhaps Stan felt uncomfortable being privy to their family business.

      He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “She’ll talk when she’s ready, honey. Give her a little time.”

      Indeed, Rachelle seemed determined to change the subject. She peered at the SUV and grinned. “The squirt’s asleep?”

      Stan said, “He snores like a trucker.”

      Laughing, Rachelle hefted her purse strap up to her shoulder and headed for the vehicle. “I’ll take him in so you two can . . . visit more.” After a wink to Stan that had Jenna blushing, Rachelle got Ryan on his feet, but his eyes remained closed.

      “Want me to carry him in?” Stan offered.

      “Thanks, but I’ve got it covered.” Ryan was more a sleepwalker than a willing participant as Rachelle guided him up the porch and inside.

      After one more quick smile and a suspiciously scheming look, she closed the door and the porch light went out. A little embarrassed, Jenna shook her head. Her daughter could use an ounce or so of subtlety.

      “Don’t worry about it,” Stan said. “She’s just showing that she likes me.”

      Of course she did, Jenna thought. Everything about Stan was likable, from his easy nature to his charming smile. But she sensed it was more than that for Rachelle, almost as if she felt something had been missing from their lives, and Stan could fix that.

      It made her feel like a bad mother, as if she hadn’t done the best she could for her kids.

      In her own grief, had she neglected a portion of her children’s needs? The last three years hadn’t been easy for any of them, but she’d thought her kids were now happy and well adjusted. As a single parent, there were too many times when she couldn’t be somewhere, couldn’t do something . . .

      “You’re tense,” Stan said. “Let’s sit on the porch swing and talk.”

      Jenna nodded agreement, but at the same time, she