One Night with a Star (Second Chances Book 2) (11 page)

“Um….” He ran his hands through his hair. Jenny’s eyes zipped straight to his staff, standing tall and thick and hard against his abdomen. How on earth did she expect him to think enough to be responsible when she directed that much hunger at the weakest part of him?

Somehow he managed to roll off the sofa and kick off his jeans. His wallet was in the back pocket. He fumbled for it with shaking hands, praying that he still had emergency supplies tucked away. He caught himself mumbling, “Please, please, please,” as he flipped the wallet open and searched it. “Thank God,” he muttered at last, yanking a small square from its folds.

The date was good, so he dropped the wallet, ripped the package open, and rolled the condom over his aching cock fast enough to set a world record. Jenny was panting with laughter and desire, her legs still splayed wide, when he dove back onto her. She didn’t even seem to mind his mad determination as he zeroed in on her entrance and guided himself inside.

“Sweet heaven above,” he croaked as he sank deep into her. Nothing had felt so good in years.

She sighed in satisfaction and grabbed his ass with a no-nonsense grip, so he did the only thing he could and pumped. Nothing else seemed to matter but mating with her, fast and hard, with enough energy to light half of Maine. He’d missed this, missed her, so hard that his body took over, ravishing her with abandon. She cried out with each thrust, her nails digging tighter and tighter into his backside until he couldn’t stand the pressure anymore.

He burst into her with a cry that came straight from his soul. His whole body clenched and gave everything he had to orgasm. It was so powerful and so complete that he could only manage a few after-thrusts before falling completely to pieces, utterly spent in her arms. Every sensation and every emotion was wrung out of him, and he melded into her. Being your own, independent soul was highly overrated anyhow. He’d given everything he had to Jenny. There was no going back now.

Chapter Ten

What on earth had she done? Every time Jenny closed her eyes, she had flashbacks to sex on the couch at Sand Dollar Point with Simon. It was a good thing that Monday was Columbus Day, and for that glorious reason, Carol had decided to close the office. A day and a half was not enough time to recover from unexpected, mind-blowing, really, really not thought-out sex with Simon. At least they’d used a condom this time.

“Honey, are you okay? You’re being awfully quiet,” her mom asked as they sorted through sale racks in search of the ultimate bargain.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine,” Jenny snapped out by rote. She checked on Daniel in the carrier strapped to her front, then drifted uneasily back to her bewildered thoughts.

What the hell had they been thinking?

Of course, the answer was that they hadn’t been thinking at all. She’d been in a foul mood. Neil’s epic jerkiness had sunk its claws into her, spreading guilt in their wake. Simon had been so damn hot and relaxed, so attentive toward Daniel and, let’s face it, her. That cocktail of Nice Simon and Guilty Jenny had been explosive. She was just lucky that it only happened once in the entire weekend and that Daniel had been enough of a distraction for the rest of the time they spent there for the two of them to avoid talking about what exactly they’d done.

“That one is nice.” Her mom commented on the blouse Jenny had been staring at on the rack for the past thirty seconds straight. “It suits your coloring.”

It would have looked okay on her grandmother. Jenny huffed and shoved hangers along the rack. The squeaking, scraping sound they made fit her restless mood. She was irresponsible. That was the all there was to it. Getting carried away and having killer sex with Simon was exactly how she’d ended up with Daniel in the first place. He was like a bag of potato chips—she’d had one when she kissed him, but you can’t have just one potato chip. Oh no, you needed the entire fucking bag.

“Seriously, Jenny,” her mom sighed and turned to her, planting a hand on her hip. “Something’s not right with you. You need to tell me about it.”

“Why?” she asked, the itching feeling that, actually, she did need to talk to someone making her restlessness worse.

“Because I’m your mom.”

Okay, she had to give her that one.

Her mom shook her head and gestured toward the store’s front door. “Come on. We’re getting ice cream and you’re telling me what’s eating you.”

Jenny nearly missed a step. Simon was eating her, and he was damn good at it. Even thinking about it—with her baby strapped to her chest and her mom right there—sent that delicious ache that Simon, more than anyone else, caused in her unmentionables flaring. She thanked God that women were designed to be able to hide when they were turned on. Maybe ice cream was a good idea, if it cooled her off.

By the time she and her mom had walked to the food court, ordered ice cream with all the whistles and bells, and found a seat amongst the Columbus Day bargain shoppers, Jenny was ready to fend off her mom’s questions.

“So spill it,” her mom said. “What’s bothering you these days?”

“Lots of things,” Jenny delivered the answer she’d prepared on the walk over. “Work, Simon wanting to be part of Daniel’s life, Neil being difficult.” She almost managed to say it all without turning bright pink. Almost. It would have helped if she could have looked her mom in the eye as she said it.

Her mom was quiet for too long. She ate tiny spoonfuls of ice cream in quick succession—a quirk that had always driven Jenny crazy—eyes narrowed.

“Your father likes Neil,” she said at last.

“Tell me about it.”

“He thinks an accountant is a nice, stable catch.”

Jenny sighed, stroking Daniel’s sleeping head. “I’m not sure stable is what I want anymore, Mom.”

Her mom humphed. “And after that argument the other day, I’m not convinced Neil is that stable.”

An unexpected grin touched Jenny’s lips. Having back-up on that one meant far more to her than she would have guessed. “I think I need to break up with him,” she said, stabbing her spoon into her ice cream. It wasn’t going to be pretty when she did.

“I think it’s a good idea,” her mom went on. “Especially since you’ve got something going on with Simon Mercer.”

“I do not,” Jenny replied, too fast and with a blush that gave everything away.

“Uh-huh.” Her mom wasn’t fooled. “Spending the weekend with him?”

“He wanted to spend time with Daniel, and I’m not ready to let him have visitation alone.”

“Is that why you wouldn’t look me or your father in the eye yesterday night when you got home?”

“Mom.” Whining was the last resort of the weak.

“You’re a grown woman, Jennifer Anne Young,” her mom said, raising her hands, ice scream spoon in one of them, in defense.

“Damn right I am.”

“Even if your father doesn’t think so.”

“Dad is…well, Dad. And he doesn’t  like Simon.”

“Can you blame him?” Her mom went back to eating ice cream, surprisingly okay with the conversation. “How did you think he would react faced with the boy who got you pregnant?”

“Exactly how he did,” Jenny sighed. She took one last bite of ice cream, then pushed the cup away. “The problem is, Mom, I like Simon. A lot.”

“Really?” Her mom’s words dripped with sarcasm.

“I spent this last year so angry at him for walking out on me the way he did, but it turns out he had legitimate reasons for it. Reasons that make me feel like an idiot if I stay mad at him.”

“What kind of reasons?”

Jenny hesitated. She didn’t think Simon’s struggles were hers to share, and telling her mom that the father of her child had been in rehab wasn’t exactly super fun. “He’d been going through a lot and needed to make some changes in his life,” she said instead.

“Mmm-hmm.” Yeah, her mom got the general idea.

“And seeing him again, spending time with him as I help him to buy a house.” She let out a breath.

“It reminds you of why you ended up knocked up in the first place?” her mom suggested.

She was tempted to be shocked, but this was
her
mother, after all. “Yeah.”

Her mom finished the last of her ice cream, then sat back in her chair, studying Jenny. A twang of love plucked at Jenny’s heart. Her mom was beautiful, good, smart. Even though her blond came out of a bottle now and the svelte figure she’d sported in old photos had softened up after kids and age, she was still the kind of woman Jenny aspired to be.

“Tell you what,” she said in her best ‘dispensing advice’ tone. “You’re a mom now. What you want is all well and good, but you have to do what’s best for Daniel.”

“I know,” Jenny said with heart. She rubbed Daniel’s back, feeling as though her heart reached right out to hold him too.

“Call me old fashioned, but I think Daniel needs a father in his life. A stable father. You may have your head turned by Simon Mercer, but is he going to be the best father for Daniel? Or will Neil? Or maybe some other guy.”

Jenny chewed her lip. Not Neil. She’d avoided thinking about that, but now she had to face it. Neil had never shown more than passing interest in Daniel, and definitely not affection. Simon, on the other hand, adored his son. But if Second Chances ended up having to move somewhere else to film, if her slip and Neil’s viciousness ruined that, would Simon be the best option?

For the hundredth time in the last few days, Jenny kicked herself for not connecting the dots between Neil and Twin Pines and Second Chances earlier. Her blind-spot where that was concerned could have ruined everything. Well, she would have to make it better somehow.

“So Mom,” she started, gathering the ice cream cups and standing to take them to the nearest trash can. “What’s the best way to break up with a guy without sending him on a jealous rampage of rejection?”

Her mom laughed out loud. “Beats me, honey. Men are stupid like that.”

“They sure are,” Jenny agreed. The problem was that women were pretty stupid on their own sometimes.

There was nothing for it but to drive over to Twin Pines to have it out with Neil.

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to agree to an interview immediately following the weekend Simon had just had.

“So are you and Daniel’s mother still involved?” the hungry young journalist asked a variation of the same question he’d asked nine times already, leaning across the table in the restaurant as if he and Simon were friends.

“We’re involved in raising Daniel,” Simon answered with as much politeness as he could muster. Thank God for theater school. Yvonne had insisted giving an interview to a top-shelf, respectable magazine right out of the gate after Daniel was discovered was the best way to avoid a seedier version of the story getting out. He’d never been cagey about giving interviews before, but then again, he’d never had so much to lose before.

“But are the two of you planning on, you know, making it official or anything?” the reporter asked on.

“As soon as I know, you’ll be the first person I tell,” Simon gave what he hoped would be a cheeky enough answer to give the young man something to go on.

The man scooted closer, visibly irritated. “But how did you meet her? Was it at a party? Were there drugs involved, like in New York?”

Simon’s pretend casualness hardened. “I don’t do any of that anymore,” he said. “You’d better mention that in your article. I’m completely clean now.”

“Really?” The man didn’t believe him.

“Really,” Simon answered.

“So no more wild parties or crazy vacations or any of that?”

“No.”

“And we’re not going to see you get pulled over or arrested or overdosing?”

“No, no, and definitely no.”

The interviewer huffed out a breath and leaned away from the table. “No one’s going to want to read about Simon Mercer the loving father, you know.”

“That’s their problem.” Yes, Yvonne was definitely going to hear about this waste of his time.

“Can I be honest with you, Simon?” The man leaned forward as if they were friends again.

“Go ahead,” Simon replied, not bothering to hide how over the interview he was.

“You go clean and you can kiss your career goodbye.”

“You think?” Simon asked, unamused.

“Sure,” the interviewer laughed. “You’re whole image is built on being the bad boy. The public hates it when celebs change their image.”

“Fortunately, I’m not living for the public. I’m living for my son, for his mom, for my friends, and the people who care about me.” And that was going to be spun to make him look like an asshole, Simon knew. He wasn’t sure he cared, though. Jenny’s was the only opinion that mattered to him. Well, Daniel’s too, but his son was a little angel.

“What are you going to do about your TV show?” the interviewer asked.

“What do you mean what am I going to do about it?” Simon shrugged. “I’m going to learn my lines, show up for work, and film it.”

“No, I mean about the trouble it’s in.”

Simon froze. “What trouble?”

The interviewer grinned. One of those vicious, Hollywood grins that smelled blood. “You haven’t heard? Rumor has it that the show is in trouble.”

“It was just renewed for a second season,” Simon insisted. His whole life worked because Second Chances had been picked up and filming would continue right there in Maine. It was his anchor as he built this new life.

The interviewer shrugged, smug in the feeling that he knew something Simon didn’t. “I heard the filming location had kicked you guys out.”

“Rumors only,” Simon shrugged “Everything’s fine.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

“Well, thanks for the interview,” the man said, standing. Simon stood with him and shook his hand, though he was eager to see the back of the man. “But I’ll be honest with you,” he said before leaving. “I don’t think this whole ‘new leaf’ thing is going to work for you. Stick with what you know works for you.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Simon replied with a flat frown.

The interviewer waved and headed out. Simon sank back into his seat, blowing out a breath and staring blankly at the remains of his lunch. Second Chances couldn’t really be in trouble, could it? Twin Pines had been all but locked up for the filming, as far as he knew. They’d all enjoyed working on those first eight episodes. The residents had gotten a kick out of Hollywood being there. Some of them had even been extras. They were only using an old part of the facility for the show—one that residents didn’t  live in. The interviewer had to be wrong.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, dialing Yvonne. If anyone would know what was going on, it was Yvonne. But her phone went straight to voicemail.

Simon tapped to end the call without leaving a message. This couldn’t be right. Twin Pines and Second Chances had to work out. He tapped the edge of his phone on the table, biting his lip as he racked his brain to think of who else he could call. Spence was still on his honeymoon. He didn’t have a relationship with the producers of the show, Yvonne handled all that.