A Perfect Trade (Harlequin Superromance)

by Anna Sugden - A Perfect Trade (Harlequin Superromance)

  If she got enough pieces accepted, she could get through the next few months. Funds would be limited, but she could pay her bills. She’d worry about Harry’s IOU later.

  Tim continued, “If things work out, I might be able to take you on full-time in the fall.”

  She’d hoped to be back working for Harry by then, but who knew what the future held. What she did know was that she wouldn’t get a better offer. “That sounds great, Tim. Thank you for the opportunity.”

  “You earned it. You did a great job with your article, you take criticism well and revise efficiently. Plus you understand deadlines.”

  They both laughed. Then he gave her a time to meet with the beat writer, Sam, to discuss the spread of articles she’d write.

  When Jenny hung up, she allowed herself a few moments of relief. This job didn’t solve all her problems, but it gave her a solid base. It was more than she’d dared hope for.

  The doorbell rang, interrupting her thoughts. Who could that be? She rose and went to the door.

  She was surprised to see Tru, holding up a bottle of champagne.

  She opened the door. “That was risky, spending money on bubbly when you don’t know the outcome.”

  “I figured we’d celebrate if you got the job, and if you didn’t we’d drink to commiserate.” He grinned. “We need glasses.”

  “Follow me.” As she led the way to the kitchen, she suddenly felt nervous and awkward.

  This was the first time Tru had been in her house. In fact, none of the hockey players she’d been with had been to her home. This was her sanctuary. Where she’d always be safe. Where she didn’t have to answer to anyone. Where she could turn the key and lock out the world.

  “This is a great kitchen.” Tru put the bottle on the pine table. “It’s homey and warm. A place where you can enjoy cooking and eating. I wish my place had a nicer kitchen. It’s got all the conveniences, but no character.” Her heart kicked as he smoothed his hand admiringly over her granite counter.

  “Uh...thanks,” she stammered. “You cook?”

  “Sure. You can only eat so much hotel food and takeout, so I got Mom and Aunt Tina to teach me the basics.”

  Stop staring at him like a teenager mooning after a high school jock! she reprimanded herself. Get glasses. Impulsively, she reached up to the top shelf and took down a pair of champagne flutes she kept for special occasions.

  Tru gave her an odd look. “They’re unusual.”

  “You’re probably used to fine crystal rather than flea-market finds,” she said defensively.

  He arched an eyebrow. “I’ve drunk champagne out of everything from cheap plastic cups to Baccarat and the Stanley Cup. I just expected you to have something less...whimsical.”

  Jenny shrugged. “Some items call out to you.”

  She didn’t tell Tru that the history of the delicately carved glasses, with the small, etched daisies, had touched her. They’d been a wedding present to the seller’s parents, who’d been married for over sixty years. Jenny had been shocked that anyone would sell such sentimental pieces. She’d felt she was rescuing the glasses when she’d bought them.

  “They’re pretty,” he said. “They suit you.”

  Jenny fought a blush, from the unexpected compliment, as Tru twisted the cork off the bottle and poured the champagne.

  “Which is it, then? Celebration or commiseration?”

  Their fingers brushed as he handed her a glass, making her pulse jump. Pull yourself together. Tru’s presence was messing with her body’s common sense.

  “Technically, it’s a bit of both.” She told him about Tim’s offer.

  “That’s a score.” He touched his glass to hers. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” She sipped her champagne.

  “You accepted the job?”

  “Of course.”

  He looked closely at her. “You don’t sound happy about it.”

  “It’s a great opportunity and it eases my immediate cash-flow hiccup. But no matter how many articles I submit, it’s not enough money to solve the bigger problems. Lizzie’s college will accept a payment plan, but Irving won’t.”

  Tru tapped his glass against his lips. “My offer’s still open. I’ll lend you the money, with the same repayment terms you agreed with Harry for more IVF attempts.”

  Jenny hesitated, wishing she had the luxury to refuse, but she was fighting the inevitable. It didn’t take a math genius to know there was no other way to make the numbers add up.

  Tru continued, “Haven’t I shown I’ll keep my word? I played the job interviews exactly as you wanted me to, right?”

  She couldn’t deny that. “Yes.”

  “Do you want this hanging over you for however long it takes Harry to recover?” He didn’t need to add, if Harry recovers.

  “No.” Jenny sighed. “All right, but on one condition. We set up a repayment schedule.”

  “Deal. Even if it’s only a dollar a week, I’ll expect you to pay promptly or I’ll charge interest. I’ll even put it in writing. Do you have a spare napkin?”

  She smiled. “I think I can stretch to a piece of paper.” She got a yellow legal pad. “Have a seat and let’s talk turkey.”

  Tru pulled out a chair for her, then sat to her left.

  Jenny pretended the cozy arrangement didn’t affect her. But when their knees brushed under the table she knew why she didn’t break the contact straightaway. Yet she wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that he didn’t, either.

  Forget about it. It was embarrassing enough to have to accept a loan from Tru, without channeling her sixteen-year-old self, as well.

  She cleared her throat and got down to business.

  It didn’t take long to agree on a repayment schedule. Jenny wrote the details on the paper.

  Before she could sign it, Tru laid his hand on hers. “One more thing.”

  She frowned. Hadn’t they covered everything? “What’s that?”

  “Since you’re borrowing money from me anyway, why don’t you take more and go for another round of IVF?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  FOR ONE HEADY MOMENT, Jenny was really tempted.

  Another chance to have a baby? Yearning drove through her, so intense she felt its tug deep in her womb.

  Reality shoved wishful thinking aside. “I can’t.”

  “Sure you can.” Tru pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “I have plenty of money. You need some. It’s that simple.”

  “No, it isn’t. Borrowing money for Lizzie’s tuition and to get Irving’s lawyers off my back is essential. IVF treatment is not. It’s a nice-to-have I can’t afford.”

  “I got the impression that you desperately wanted to be a mother.”

  Jenny wanted to snarl an acid reply, but she knew he hadn’t meant to hurt her. He couldn’t know how his words scraped wounds that had barely begun to heal. “I’ve learned not to put much store in dreams. They rarely come true.” She hitched a shoulder. “That one wasn’t meant to be.”

  Even as she spoke, the knowledge that she was closing the door on the possibility of having a child burned within her chest.

  She cleared the lump in her throat. “I’m touched by your offer, but my financial situation is precarious enough. As it is, if Harry doesn’t recover soon, I’ll be in hock to you forever.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “I need to get back on a solid footing, not worry about fanciful dreams.”

  “I don’t care about the money.” He raised a hand to forestall her argument. “I know why you’re insisting on repaying me. I’m just pointing out that your stubbornness is what’s causing your financial insecurity. You could resolve it like that.” He snapped his fingers.

  He made it sound so easy. “Regardless, I won’t change my mind.”

/>   Tru thrust his fingers through his thick dark hair. “It’s the same old argument. You were prepared to take additional money from Harry, but you won’t take an extra dime from me.” His tone rang with hurt. “What more can I do to prove you can trust me?”

  “This isn’t about trust,” she said gently. “I don’t want to add any more debt when everything in my life is topsy-turvy.”

  “Right now. In a few months, it’ll all be resolved and your life will be back to normal.” He dropped back into his chair.

  “I hope so, but who knows for sure. If all goes well, maybe I’ll think about trying IVF again then.” She knew she shouldn’t allow herself even the tiniest bit of hope, but the alternative was too bleak to contemplate. Her hands twisted together in her lap.

  Tru laid his hand over hers. The warmth of his touch stilled her fingers and soothed their tension. “You know, it takes nine months from conception to birth. That’s more than enough time for everything to right itself. Why wait, when you could start the process now?”

  This was like when he played hockey. Give him the smallest opening and he’d pounce, turning momentary weakness to his advantage. Each time Jenny tried to tamp out the spark of hope, Tru seemed determined to relight it and fan the flame.

  “Tru, please. I can’t discuss this anymore. I can’t even think about it.” Her voice cracked. “Just let it go.”

  She pulled her hands back, breaking the contact. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if that could restore the lost warmth.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Tru started to reach for her, then stopped. His outstretched fingers curled into a fist, then dropped to his leg. “I just want to help make your dream come true. I owe you that much. Hell, I owe you so much more, but...”

  “You don’t owe me anything.” Her tone was deliberately flat as she struggled to hold on to her ragged composure.

  His short laugh had a bitter edge. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t need IVF.”

  She couldn’t argue with him; she’d said the same thing enough times herself.

  Weariness washed over her, making her limbs achy and heavy. Suddenly, she was tired of the cycle of blame and guilt. It was time to stop tearing each other apart.

  “I think we should both move on...wipe the slate clean.”

  He straightened and looked at her hesitantly. “Seriously?”

  She nodded. “This has gone on long enough. We both have enough to worry about without constantly raking over that night. The real villain was Uncle Douglas. It’s too late for him to pay for what he did, but we can stop footing the bill.”

  “Thank you.” He closed his eyes briefly. “That doesn’t change the facts. Giving you the chance to have a baby is a small way to make up for what I did. Please, let me do this for you.”

  It was Jenny’s turn to study him. The old Tru wouldn’t have asked; he’d have done what he thought best. He’d probably have set up the IVF treatment, then handed her the schedule of clinic visits as a fait accompli. Well-intentioned, but irritating as hell.

  Perhaps he had changed.

  “You’ve already done a lot for me.” She tapped their financial agreement. “Consider the debt repaid.”

  He shook his head. “Let me loan you the money, so you can have a child.”

  Maybe he hadn’t changed that much. He was still trying to railroad her.

  “It feels weird to take money from you to help me get pregnant. It seems so...personal.”

  “It didn’t feel personal when you borrowed from Harry?”

  “I never dated Harry.”

  That silenced him for several minutes. “Okay, I get it. But it’s something I really want...need to do.” His words throbbed with the intensity of his feelings. “Will you at least think about it?”

  “All right.” But she already knew what her answer would be.

  He got to his feet. “Great. I’d better get going. I’m meeting my agent for dinner.”

  Despite his bright tone, she knew how much that meeting must be preying on his mind. “Good luck. Do you think he’ll have any news about who the new coach is?”

  “I don’t know. Callum Hardshaw is known for keeping his cards close to his vest.”

  “For what it’s worth, I think the Cats would be crazy to let you go.”

  “Finally, we agree.” Tru grinned. “You don’t want a coaching job, do you?”

  They both laughed.

  Jenny’s mind was still on their conversation as she followed him to the front door. “Thank y...”

  She broke off, running into him, as he stopped suddenly and turned. His arms came round her, steadying her.

  Steady was the last thing she felt.

  Awareness erupted. Her senses were bombarded with Tru. His lean, hard body, his broad chest. The strength of the honed muscles in his arms and thighs. His scent surrounded her; the fresh, citrus notes of shampoo and fabric softener, mingled with the pepper and spice of clean male. A heady combination.

  Then there was the heat. Even through their clothes, the heat radiating from him singed her, enticing her to draw closer, even as she knew she shouldn’t.

  Her head lifted. His lowered slowly.

  Desire, tinged with a hint of uncertainty, whipped through her body. She was shocked and thrilled to see her longing mirrored in his green eyes. Mesmerized, her gaze dropped to his mouth, following its path as it drew closer to hers.

  Anticipation shot through her. The heavy thud of her heart almost made her gasp aloud. She moistened her lips.

  He groaned. “Ah, Jenny-fair.”

  Jenny blinked. His endearment—the one he’d used when they were teenagers—doused her emotions like cold water. The abrupt change, from fire to ice, made her shiver.

  She didn’t want this...him...now. She wasn’t ready. It was too soon. It was too...

  Jenny drew back.

  Tru looked quizzical, his hold tightening for a few moments, before releasing her. As the passion in his eyes cleared and comprehension dawned, she thought she glimpsed chagrin. Then his gaze went blank.

  “You were saying?” The roughness in his voice was the only sign that he’d been affected by what had happened.

  “I...uh...wanted to thank you for helping me.”

  “Sure. You’re welcome.” He opened the front door. “You’ll let me know about the rest?”

  She nodded, hating how things had become awkward between them again.

  “Good.” He reached up and gently brushed a lock of hair that had fallen across her face. “Congratulations again.”

  Then he jogged down the front steps and was gone.

  Jenny shut the door and leaned against it. All these years she thought she’d been indifferent to Tru. Yet, once again, his touch had made her react the way she had at sixteen. Warmth filled her cheeks. She’d lied to herself. She’d never been indifferent to Tru.

  Maggie had once said she didn’t believe the feelings between Jenny and Tru were dead. “If there was nothing left between you, you’d ignore each other,” she’d said. “The way you snip and yap at each other tells me the embers aren’t cold.”

  Of course, Maggie didn’t know their history. Guilt twinged Jenny’s stomach, even though she knew her friend would understand—both her story and why she kept quiet.

  Maggie had moved to New Jersey, having suffered physical and emotional abuse at the hands of her ex-husband, a famous English soccer player. The details had been splashed across the tabloids and the web for months, during and after their divorce. One of the reasons Maggie had fought her attraction to Jake for so long—besides believing the hockey star was cut from the same cloth as her ex—had been to avoid media attention.

  When Jenny was ready to share the details of her past, Maggie would be the person she’d tell.

&n
bsp; The phone rang, interrupting Jenny’s chaotic thoughts.

  When she answered, her sister’s cheerful voice made her smile. “Lizzie, how are you? I’m looking forward to you coming home in a few weeks.”

  “I’m good, but I have to talk to you about coming home.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No. In fact, things are great. The owner of the pizza place is so pleased with my work, he’s offered me full-time work over the summer. He also said I can go back to flexible hours during term time.”

  “That’s not necessary. I’ll find a way to cover your expenses.” Worry over how she was letting her sister down gnawed at her. “You need to focus on your studies.”

  “You can’t keep looking after me, Jen. I’m not a kid anymore. I want to be more self-reliant and this is a great start.”

  Jenny couldn’t argue with that. She shoved her own feelings aside. “I’m not surprised he wants to keep you. You’re probably more conscientious than most students he gets.”

  “Not to brag, but he did say that.” Lizzie laughed.

  “I guess you won’t be coming home for a while.”

  “I can probably fit in a short visit next month.”

  “That would be great.” She forced a bright tone. “We’ll arrange some fun stuff to do while you’re here and have a special celebration, in honor of my new job.” Jenny explained what she would be doing for The Journal.

  After her sister had squealed and congratulated her, they fixed a date for Lizzie’s visit.

  As Jenny hung up, she wondered what else in her life could change. She’d had enough upheaval to last her awhile. A little routine and boring wouldn’t go amiss.

  Her mind drifted back to Tru and the almost-kiss. She had a feeling that while Tru was in her life, routine and boring would never be on the cards.

  * * *

  “TELL ME STRAIGHT, ANDY—good news or bad news?”

  Though Tru had been desperate to know the score regarding his future with the Ice Cats, he’d gone along with his agent’s chat over predinner drinks and appetizers. He was done enjoying the view of Manhattan through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the fashionable steak house on the New Jersey bank of the Hudson. Their entrées had been served and he wanted to get down to business.