A Perfect Trade (Harlequin Superromance) (18 page)

Jenny had always stirred emotions and fire in him, even when they’d barely exchanged a civil word. What he realized now was that he still
liked
her more than any other woman, too.

Unfortunately, he also couldn’t be near Jenny without his body reacting to her.

At least their kiss had punted that stupid “strictly business” arrangement between the uprights. He’d been a fool to think anything he did with Jenny could ever be businesslike.

He added chopped tomatoes to the pan. Thank God the counter masked his growing problem. There had to be a rule somewhere that you shouldn’t get hard over the woman you were helping to impregnate.

He glanced at Jenny, who was preparing a salad on the other side of the breakfast bar. He wondered how Jenny felt. Would she acknowledge things had changed between them?

Jenny looked up and smiled. “That smells delicious.”

Damn it. Even her throaty compliment turned him on.

Forcing his mind back to the bubbling sauce, he dipped a tablespoon into the pot, then leaned toward her. “Here. Have a taste.”

She readily accepted his offer. “Mmm. Delicious.” She licked her lips.

Pleased, he tried to look humble. “It’s all because of my secret ingredients.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “What are they?”

“There’s a reason they’re called ‘secret.’” He waggled a wooden spoon at her. “Besides, I’m not spilling to a member of the press.”

“You can trust me.” She batted her eyelashes. “My lips are sealed.”

Do not think about how you could unseal them.
“Yeah, right. Next thing I know, you’ll mention my recipe on
The Journal
’s blog and probably give the Cats another reason why I should be traded.” He was only half joking.

“Why would they care?” Jenny frowned. “It’s not a crime for a player to be able to cook. Most of the top chefs are men.”

“You know how some people think.” He banged his chest like a caveman. “Me professional athlete. Me only grill.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t print your shameful hobby.”

“I’m still not telling you.” He grinned. “Though I may be open to bribes.”

“Then I’ll have to think of something to tempt you with.”

Her husky words sent a jolt of desire through his body. Turquoise sparks danced in her eyes, conjuring up images of the bribes she might have in mind.

He grabbed his wineglass and took a large gulp, hoping the cool liquid would dampen his desire.

It didn’t.

“I can resist your temptation.” He hoped the cockiness in his voice masked his lie.

“You’ve always resisted me easily.” There was a hint of disappointment in her tone.

“Always?” he challenged softly.

“In recent years, for sure.”

“You were able to resist me easily, too.”

She tilted her head. “I had other interests.”

His stomach tightened at the reminder of what, or who, she’d been interested in.

Then he told himself it didn’t matter who Jenny had been with in the past. Hell, he hadn’t been a saint, either. They were done with the past. Only the future mattered. Starting with this evening.

Tru turned his attention back to the stove. “How’s that salad coming?”

“I’ve done my part, chef.” She handed him the filled bowl. “Anything else?”

“Looks good.” He put a pot of salted water on to boil. “Why don’t you get some plates, then top up the drinks?”

“Sure.”

Tru almost groaned aloud as Jenny bent to get a couple of pasta plates from a low cupboard. He turned so she wouldn’t see how her deliciously curved ass had affected him.

Jenny brushed his arm as she leaned over to put the plates on the counter next to him. The zing raced up to his shoulder, then spread like lightning through his body. So much for tamping down his desire. He stepped back quickly, out of reach. Unfortunately, as he did, he knocked Jenny’s arm. The plates dropped to the floor and smashed.

Crap.
“I’m a clumsy idiot. I’ll replace them for you.”

“Don’t be silly. They weren’t part of a fancy china set. They were only cheap dishes.”

“Well, I’ll find you some similar bowls.”

She smiled. “All right. If you insist.”

“Stay where you are, I’ll clean this up,” he said, as she picked up pieces of china.

“I don’t want you to cut yourself and pass out.” She grinned cheekily as she dropped the fragments in the trash.

“Where’s the gratitude?” he grumbled good-naturedly. “I’m protecting you from injury.”

“My hero.” Jenny got a brush and dustpan from the utility room and handed them to him. “I am grateful. With no health insurance, I can’t afford any trips to the emergency room.”

“What do you mean, no health insurance?” Tru straightened.

“I lost my insurance when I lost my job.
The Journal
won’t give me health cover unless I’m full-time, and my limited funds won’t stretch that far right now.”

He swore as he emptied the dustpan in the trash. “Harry’s stroke really screwed you, didn’t it?”

She gave a sad half shrug. “I wish he’d wake up and sort this all out. Until he does, health insurance will have to wait.”

Tru added pasta to the boiling water. “I’ll call Andy in the morning and get you put on my policy.”

Her chin came up. “There’s no need. It’s only for a few months, then I’ll get a plan.”

Jeez, she was stubborn. “What if you get sick in the meantime? What if the IVF works? You’ll need health care then. For sure, our baby will need to be covered.”

“You don’t need to pay for insurance on top of everything else.”

“I’ve already told you I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the money. Knowing you and our baby are covered gives us both peace of mind. Consider this part of my child support.”

Jenny sighed. “Okay. But only until I can pay for the policy myself.”

Like hell.
He’d leave that argument for another time. “Why don’t you get fresh plates while I finish cooking this pasta?”

“Sure.” Jenny laid a hand on his arm. “I know it seems like I don’t appreciate how supportive you’re being, but I do.”

Tru was relieved when she moved away. He was having a hard time resisting the urge to take her in his arms and explore the extent of that gratitude.

Dinner was a surprisingly relaxed meal. The conversation was light, ranging across a variety of subjects from books to movies to food. Even when they disagreed, the debate was lively, but fun. Inevitably they kept returning to hockey. By unspoken agreement, they avoided any discussion about the Ice Cats or his potential trade.

Tru felt guilty that he didn’t mention the deal he’d made, but he couldn’t without talking about the conditions attached. He didn’t want to upset her tonight; not when things were going so well. Hopefully, by the time it became necessary to tell her, he’d have derailed the project, making the whole thing moot.

They were clearing the dishes when the phone rang again.

“Someone’s keen to get hold of you.” Tru didn’t want to think about who that could be.

Any concern that it might have been another guy was wiped away when Jenny frowned up at the clock. “I’m not expecting any calls.” She looked worried. “I hope Lizzie’s okay.”

“I’m sure she is. It’s probably telemarketers. They always call at dinnertime.” Tru rinsed off the plates and loaded them into the dishwasher. “Want me to answer and put them off?”

“I can handle a few cold callers.” She smiled, then answered the phone. “Hello?”

He turned his attention back to cleaning the kitchen.

Jenny swore. “I’m not interested in anything to do with my uncle.”

Tru’s hand stilled on the counter. The caller had to be Connor Smith. What the hell did he want? His gut twisted when he heard Jenny’s next words.

“If it’s not related to his will, what do you need to speak to me about?”

Tru knew exactly why the lawyer had called.

Jenny gasped. “No, I do not want to support a memorial for Douglas Boult!”

Tru cursed under his breath. His whole relationship with Jenny, and any chance of a future together, depended on what came next. Unfortunately, he knew that no matter how this played out, he’d lose all the ground he’d made not just tonight but over the past few weeks, too.

Should he confess to knowing about the project?

He had to. He didn’t want to lie to Jenny. Not after all they’d been through. Trust went both ways. He had to be honest. Still, knowing about the project was one thing. Being part of the committee was a whole ’nother ball game.

If he admitted he was on the committee, the tension between them would return with a vengeance. Worse, she’d probably change her mind about his involvement in the IVF treatment. Would she believe him if he explained the position he’d been put in and that he’d done what he thought best?

He tossed the cloth into the sink. But if he didn’t tell her and she found out anyway, it would come back to bite him on the ass. She’d never trust him again.

He had no choice. He had to tell the truth and deal with the consequences.

Tru was working out what to say when Jenny turned to look at him to share her horror.

Tru met her gaze without flinching.

It took a moment for Jenny to register the message in his expression. The color drained from her face. She shook her head vigorously in denial. Then she looked away.

“I’ll say this one last time. Neither I nor my sister want anything to do with memorializing Douglas Boult.”

Jenny tried to hang up the phone, but it wouldn’t go back into its cradle. Her eyes filled with tears as over and over she tried to slam it down.

The pain etched across her pale face and the anguish in her stormy blue eyes made Tru’s chest ache. Each one of her hiccuping breaths, as she battered the receiver against the metal cradle, was like a nail in his heart.

He was by her side in an instant. His fingers circled her wrist gently and he pried the phone from her death grip. The snick of the receiver slotting into place seemed to take the starch out of Jenny’s legs and she crumpled. He cradled her in his arms as a low whimper slipped from her lips.

Almost immediately, she wrenched herself from his embrace and backed away to lean against the counter. Head lowered to her chest, she wrapped her arms protectively around her waist.

Tendrils of dread crept through his insides and squeezed mercilessly as he waited for Jenny to speak.

Finally, she lifted her gaze. Hurt and betrayal blazed out of her eyes. “You knew.”

It wasn’t a question. Tru couldn’t say the words. He simply gave one sharp nod.

Jenny’s lip curled. “Nothing has changed.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

S
TUPID
! S
TUPID
! S
TUPID
!

Emotions boiled and burned inside Jenny, melting the ice that had spread through her veins the moment she’d heard about the plans for Douglas Boult’s memorial.

How could she have believed things were different this time? She’d begun to trust Tru.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
Well, shame on her for thinking Tru had changed. Tigers didn’t change their stripes and men didn’t change their genes. Uncle Douglas had taught her that much.

After she’d lied to the police, he’d kept his distance. But as soon as the case had been closed, he’d started to prey on her again. When she’d threatened to recant her statement, he’d countered with the promise that if she did, he’d turn his attentions to Lizzie.

Even bastards kept their word about some things. As long as Jenny had let him do what he’d wanted to her, he’d left Lizzie alone.

A clever person would have learned her lesson from that experience.

Stupid!

Not anymore.

“I think you should leave, Tru.”

He threw up his arms. “We can’t even talk about this?”

“What’s to discuss? I didn’t enjoy this story the first time around. I don’t need to hear it again. You haven’t changed.”

“That’s harsh.”

“Why? You still assume you know best.”

“I was trying to help.” He reached toward her, then dropped his hand to his side. “I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

Her short laugh was humorless. “Which part did you think wouldn’t hurt me? Not telling me about the memorial or that your mother’s running the project?”

Chagrin crossed his face. “I didn’t plan to keep it from you forever.”

She shook her head. “Didn’t you think I might hear about the memorial regardless of
your
plans?”

“I hoped the news wouldn’t reach you as fast as it did. I didn’t want to have to tell you until it was absolutely necessary.”

“When would you have considered it to be ‘absolutely necessary’?” She added air quotes. “The day I stumbled across a new park with a statue of Pastor Boult in it? Or the day they asked me and Lizzie to declare the damn thing open?”

Tru crossed his arms. “The day I could tell you they’d canned the project.”

“It’s going to be canceled?” Hope blossomed in her chest, soothing the molten mass that bubbled inside. “Why didn’t Smith mention that?”

Tru shoved a hand through his hair. “Because it hasn’t happened yet.”

“Then, when?” She frowned.

“I don’t know. The first committee meeting was this afternoon.”

She was obviously missing something. “Then how do you know it’ll be canceled?”

“Because I’ll do everything in my power to make sure it is.”

“I don’t understand....”

The answer flashed in her head, like a bright red goal light. Tru’s expression—guilty, but defiant—confirmed the truth.

No!
Her heart and her head screamed denial. “You’re on the committee,” she rasped.

Jenny had thought she couldn’t hurt any worse. She was wrong.

She’d once taken a puck to the chest. After several moments of numb shock when the wind had been knocked from her lungs, there had been a crushing pain, as if her chest was collapsing. For a few seconds she hadn’t been able to drag air into her bruised lungs; it had felt like hours.

This was like another slap shot to the chest.

She grabbed the counter and willed herself to remain upright. “How could you?”

“I had no choice,” Tru gritted out.

“Since when did you become a mama’s boy?” Jenny lashed out, wanting him to hurt as much as she did.

“It wasn’t my mom.” He jammed his hands on his hips. “It was the Ice Cats.”

“What?” Jenny blinked. “Why would they be involved with a memorial park? They don’t have any connection to Uncle Douglas or his parish.”

“The Scartellis do.” Tru told her about Mrs. Scartelli’s request.

“Okay. But how did you get roped into this? They’re trading you.”

“They offered me a deal.” Tru sounded weary.

“You’ve re-signed with the Cats?” The shocks kept coming. “When?”

Jenny felt as if she was on a fairground ride, being flung this way and that. “How come nothing’s been announced?”

“It’s not official yet.” He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck as he told her about the deal. “I’m still waiting for the contract.”

Her surprise turned to disbelief. “You sold your soul for the promise of
one
season?”

“I’m
guaranteed
one more season. The
promise
is a longer-term contract next summer.”

“But you don’t have that in writing yet?”

“Andy says I’ll have it anytime now.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Do you honestly believe they’ll honor their end of the deal?”

“For sure. But I’ll still need to have the best damn season of my career, so Macarty believes I’m worth hanging on to.”

Her heart tugged at the desperate edge to his voice. “Do you have a no-trade clause?”

“Not for next year. But it’ll be in the longer-term contract.”

Jenny wanted to rail at him to wake up and smell the coffee, but knew he wouldn’t listen. He didn’t want to hear the truth.

“So you screwed up our friendship for one season, a few million dollars and no guarantee you won’t be traded. It’s good to know what I’m worth.”

Tru’s jaw dropped. “I was trying to turn a no-win situation into one that benefited both of us. I still am.”

Jenny frowned and tapped her lip with her forefinger. “Nope. Can’t see how this works out for me.”

“The best way to sabotage the project is from the inside.”

“That’s smart, how? You’ll upset Mrs. Scartelli, and then her sons will ship you out of town faster than you can say Zamboni.”

He shot her a frustrated look. “Give me some credit. I’ll be subtle.”

“Right.” She twisted her lips.

“I
can
be subtle. I could’ve blown up the whole meeting by telling them Douglas Boult’s dirty secret...”

Jenny gasped as fear gripped her heart. “No! You promised!”

He continued, as if she hadn’t spoken, “...but I didn’t. Even though that would be the quickest way to stop this whole memorial nonsense, I didn’t break my promise. I found other ways to make the damn project stutter and stumble. And I’ll keep doing that until it implodes.”

Suddenly, Jenny felt tired. This was an old argument. Tru blithely heading down a route he thought best, with no regard for her opinion. “Do what you want. You will anyway. Just like before.”

“This is different.”

“How?”

“This time, I know what, or rather
who,
is involved.”

She shrugged. “You’re deluding yourself if you think this will help either of us.”

Tru swore. “What could I have done better?”

“You could have told me at the start and we could have discussed options. Maybe we’d even have ended up with the same answer. But at least I’d have been involved, not treated like a child who can’t tie her laces without help from the all-knowing Truman Jelinek.”

Her voice rose in pitch with each word. “How can I trust you, Tru, when you won’t treat me as an equal? How do I know you aren’t hiding another secret because you think you’re the only one with the right answer?”

For an instant, his eyes shifted.

Her stomach sank. “There is something else.” What more could he spring on her?

“It’s nothing to do with you. It’s a family thing.” He sighed. “It’s complicated and I don’t want to say anything until I get all the facts straight.”

What was the point? Jenny had fought too hard to gain control over her life. She couldn’t be with someone who took that control away from her. Especially not if she had a baby. Legal agreements were all well and good, but how could she trust Tru to stick to their agreement and not do his own thing every time he felt he knew better than she did?

“I need to figure out how this affects...everything. Please give me some space.”

“All right. I’ll go.” He sighed. “I’m sorry the evening ended like this. Please don’t let it change things.”

“I can’t promise that,” she said softly.

Tru started to walk away, then stopped and turned to her. “No. I’m not walking out the door without this resolved. That’s where I went wrong last time.”

Jenny’s heart thunked. “I... You...” she stammered, unsure what to say.

“I let the situation get away from me instead of fighting. Maybe if I’d stood my ground, things would have turned out differently.” He puffed out a breath. “I’m sorry you found out about the project and my involvement on the committee this way. But I’m not the villain here. Whether you want to believe it or not, I have your best interests at heart.”

“Your intent has never been the issue,” she said honestly.

“Maybe I should have told you. I figured the last thing you needed to hear about right now was a memorial for Douglas Boult.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but that wasn’t for you to decide.”

“I get that. But we can’t act like teenagers and not speak to each other because I made a dumb mistake over an even dumber project. Not when we should be focusing our energies on an important project of our own.”

That was the problem. Could they continue with the IVF treatment if she’d worry constantly about what Tru might do? “We can’t carry on as if nothing’s happened.”

“So what will it take to fix this?”

Ironically, the fact that Tru had even asked the question, instead of powering forward by himself, kept her from pulling the plug on their deal straightaway. It was a small step in the right direction.

Plus, in truth, she didn’t want to give up on this IVF attempt before it had even begun. Perhaps a fragile truce was possible.

“I suppose I could give you one last chance. No more secrets. You keep me up to date on everything to do with the project and anything else that involves me.”

“Done. It will all work out, I promise.” His smile was filled with relief.

“Be careful about making a promise you might regret.”

“I won’t regret it
or
let you down.”

Her expression telegraphed her doubt. “If I find out you’ve been hiding anything else from me, we’re through.”

“Deal.” The word hung in the air between them.

Jenny remembered the last time they’d come to an agreement. How Tru had wanted to seal the deal. Her pulse jumped. Her gaze rose slowly to meet his. From the smoldering fire in his eyes, she knew he remembered, too.

Before he could make the same suggestion again she pushed away from the counter, grabbed a washcloth and started to wipe the granite surface clean.

“Good,” she said brightly. “Well, the next step is the ultrasound. I’ll call you once I’ve been and...” Her words trailed off as he shook his head, then took the washcloth from her.

“I clean up my own mess.” He pointed to the table. “Grab a seat.” He waited until she sat down. “We’ve already agreed you won’t go through this alone. I’ll pick you up and take you for the scan.”

She opened her mouth to argue, then changed her mind. She couldn’t expect him to keep to his end of the bargain if she kept shutting him out. “All right. Thank you.”

“You can choose where we go to eat, to celebrate, after.”

“Done.” Jenny smiled. He was trying. Was it wrong to hope that this time he’d stick to his word?