A Perfect Trade

He tamped down the unwanted desire and scrambled to cover his ass. “I’m not in love with anyone.”

“Come on, Tru. Don’t try to tell me there isn’t unfinished business between you and Jenny.” Her lip curled.

His short laugh was humorless. “What there was between us has been finished for over a decade.” How could it not be, after what he’d done? “We’ve both moved on.”

“Have you?” Her question rang with disbelief.

Jenny sure as hell had. He’d been reminded of that every damn time she’d left the arena with her player of choice. It had taken a while, but he’d moved on, too, even if he’d never learned to ignore her fully.

“There’s nothing left between me and Jenny.” His tone was flat, uncompromising.

“There’s too much emotion between you, for former high school sweethearts.”

If only she knew. He’d never told anyone—not his best friend Jake, nor his brothers—the truth about what had happened with Jenny. “We weren’t exactly sweethearts.” Not quite a lie. Their relationship had barely started before he’d blown it to hell. “We were buddies, played hockey together. We grew apart.”

Melanie shook her head. “I doubt it’s that simple.”

“It is.” It had to be. He changed the subject away from Jenny to one that wasn’t any more comfortable; it too was littered with guilt and betrayal. “I’ve told you before, I’m cautious because I don’t want to make a mistake. Divorce is painful all round.”

“If you believe that’s the only reason you don’t want commitment, then you’re lying to yourself as well as me.” She rose. “I want you to take me home.”

He knew he should try to rescue their relationship, but he couldn’t find the energy. Where was his “fight till you hear the buzzer” mentality? Gone. Like his chances of winning the Stanley Cup this year. He knew which he felt worse about.

“Okay.” He motioned for the waiter to bring the check.

As he paid, Tru wondered what he could have done to make the evening end differently.

His depressing conclusion was nothing. He didn’t question too closely whether he couldn’t think of a solution to the issues they—he—had or he didn’t want to.

The drive to Melanie’s place was tense and silent. There was nothing left to say. After a stilted goodbye, Tru headed to his apartment.

He closed the door and relief filled him. He should be upset. His relationship with Mel had lasted longer than any other. If there was a chance of him having a happily-ever-after with anyone, he’d have thought it would’ve been with her. Yet, now that it was over, he knew this was the right outcome.

Maybe he wasn’t meant to be married. He thought enviously of Jake and his wife, Maggie. Of the obstacles they’d overcome to be together. Of their happiness. Their marriage would last, for sure.

Tru wanted to believe there was someone special out there for him. Unfortunately, it looked as though the odds of finding that person were as slim as him being voted the league’s most valuable player this year.

He pulled an ice pack from the freezer and pressed it to his shoulder, then slumped onto the sofa and flicked on the TV to catch the Kings’ game.

He should forget about relationships and stick to hockey.

It was simpler. You win or you lose, you move on to the next game. On the ice your only commitment was to the logo on the front of your sweater.

Sure he wanted more than his career, but not unless what he felt for the woman was absolutely right. In hockey and in love, second-best didn’t count.

* * *

JENNY DIDN’T KNOW how she made it home. By the time she closed her front door, her body was trembling. Despite the balmy spring evening, she was chilled through.

She should be dancing through the house, yet she couldn’t shake off the gloom that shrouded her, extending its cold, snakelike tendrils deep inside.

Perhaps it was shock. Jenny had been looking over her shoulder for so long, waiting for her uncle to take revenge for leaving and taking Lizzie with her. Even when Lizzie had grown too old to be of interest to Douglas, he’d made sure Jenny knew that he could make their lives miserable if she took one wrong step.

She lit the fire in the living room, made a mug of hot chocolate and curled up in her rocking chair, her parents’ wedding-ring quilt wrapped around her shoulders. She drew comfort from the handmade quilt, as if her parents were hugging her.

The heirloom was the only thing of her parents that Douglas had let her take when she’d left. Jenny hadn’t cared; Lizzie’s safety had been worth more than everything she’d had to leave behind. And a small price to pay for ensuring her uncle would leave them alone.

Not that she’d trusted him to keep his word. But her only leverage against him would have been to tell the truth about what he’d done to her. But that would have destroyed her and, worse, Lizzie would have been wrenched from her care.

Slowly, warmth seeped into her body, relieving the tension that had tightened her muscles. A tiny spark of joy lit deep inside and she allowed it to glow.

The doorbell rang, jolting her out of her reverie. Jenny debated not answering, but her visitor was impatient and leaned on the bell again. Slowly, she rose and went to the door. Checking through the peephole, she was relieved to see her boss’s craggy face.

Harry didn’t say anything when she opened the door, simply enfolded her in his arms and pressed her to his barrel chest. The familiar smell of Old Spice and the cigars he wasn’t supposed to smoke clung to his tweed jacket.

The tears she’d held back spilled over.

“No need for waterworks,” his gravelly voice rumbled beneath her ear as he patted her back awkwardly.

Jenny stepped away and led him to the living room. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

His jaw set. “They’re tears of happiness. We’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but I’ve never been happier to hear of someone’s passing.”

Harry had insisted she tell him her story the first time they met, when he’d rescued her from a shoplifting charge at the local grocery store, not long after she and Lizzie had left their uncle’s house. Surprised a teenager would steal milk and bread, instead of candy or alcohol, he’d paid for her haul and offered to buy her lunch.

She hadn’t trusted Harry’s motives, but with no money and desperate to feed Lizzie, she’d grudgingly accepted his help. It hadn’t taken long for her benefactor—a billionaire with fingers in multiple media pies—to coax the story out of her.

Harry had been shocked. Impressed that she was trying to take care of her sister, he’d promised to help her keep Lizzie. Despite her lack of qualifications, he’d given her a job and helped her find a place to live. He’d also encouraged her to get her GED and to save her money so she could buy this house.

Harry had threatened to expose her uncle, but Jenny, fearful of the fallout that would rebound on her, had begged him not to. He’d agreed reluctantly, but had sworn that if Douglas ever came after her, he would deal with the man himself.

“You didn’t need to come.” Jenny poured him a glass of his favorite malt whiskey. “I’m all right.”

“I can see that.” Harry eased his stocky frame into an armchair by the fire.

“No, really. The news was unexpected. The emotions overwhelmed me, but I’m fine.”

Harry nodded. “Well, now the old bastard’s gone, it’s time to take a good look at your life and decide what you want to do with it.”

“What’s wrong with my life? Thanks to you, I have a great job, a lovely house and a social life most women would envy.”

He arched a gray eyebrow. “You must want more than that. What about marriage, a family? You’re not getting any younger, missy.”

Jenny had abandoned her dream of a husband and children long ago. She carried too much baggage to trust any man. She’d learned the hard way the only person she could rely on was herself. Safety and security were far more important than romance.

“Lizzie only has a couple of years left at college,” she hedged. “Plenty of time to figure things out when she’s done.”

“Bull crap.” He puffed out a breath. “Don’t wait for the right moment to sort yourself out. Otherwise, one day, you’ll turn around and it’ll be too late.”

At his somber tone, she studied his face anxiously. “Is everything all right? You’re not sick, are you?”

“Fit as a horse.” He waved away her concerns. “Only the creaky joints you’d expect in a man my age.”

Harry looked good for his seventy years. His hair wasn’t fully gray yet and his only wrinkles were the laugh lines around his eyes and bracketing his mouth.

“Then why the heavy sigh?”

“Felicia and Irving want their allowances increased. I should’ve cut the pair of them loose years ago.” He shook his head. “Alice will be rolling in her grave at the mess I’ve made of bringing them up.”

Though Harry was overindulgent with his children, Jenny felt their self-centered greediness was a character flaw that said more about them, than the man who’d raised them single-handedly after his wife’s early death.

“Why couldn’t my kids have been more like you and Lizzie? Thank God I have you both in my life, or I’d be a miserable old goat.”

She laughed. “I’m not touching that comment!”

Harry chuckled, then sobered. “Enough dillydallying around the subject, missy. I want to know what Jenny Martin wants from her life.”

What did she want?

With her thirtieth birthday approaching, she’d been asking herself the same question. She’d been surprised to realize that over the past year she’d slept with very few men; none in the past nine months. The players coming into the league seemed too young and she couldn’t drum up any interest for those already in the show.

The lack of sex didn’t bother her; she’d never been that excited by it. Being a puck bunny had given her a sense of power and control—in a safe environment, among a fraternity she’d trusted—at a time when she’d had none. She didn’t need that anymore. Perhaps it was time to pass her figurative crown to someone younger.

But what would she do instead? There would be a void in her life, especially now Lizzie had pretty much left home. Then there was the tick of her biological clock.

She wasn’t going there. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Come on. There must be something.”

She should be annoyed by his persistence, forcing her to say aloud what she secretly nurtured in her heart, but she knew it was because he cared.

“Sure, I want love and a family. But marriage isn’t in the cards for me, so there’s no point thinking about it.”

“Why not?” He blew a raspberry at Jenny’s arched eyebrow. “The right guy won’t give a damn about your past.”

Harry had never judged her for being a puck bunny. Everyone had to take their own path, he’d said. As long as she wasn’t hurting anyone, especially herself, it was up to her what she did.

Not everyone had the same attitude. Naturally, with that thought, a certain green-eyed Ice Cat skated into her mind. Tru certainly wasn’t the right guy.

“Wherever this man is, I haven’t found him,” Jenny said lightly.

“So have the family without the man. You don’t need a husband to make a baby. Heck, you don’t even need a boyfriend. Just a sperm donor.”

She started as Harry zeroed in on the thoughts she’d dared to have herself. His words triggered the yearning she’d been trying to ignore.

A baby. Her baby. Someone who’d love her unconditionally.

“But the damage Douglas caused...” She paused as fury blazed in Harry’s pale blue eyes. “I was told the chances of me getting pregnant without intervention are nearly zero.”

“Then have IVF.”

She laughed. Harry had never met a problem he couldn’t solve. “I can’t afford it. Even with the generous salary you pay me, I need every penny to fund Lizzie.”

“What if I gave you the money?”

“You’ve already done too much. I can’t take anything more from you.”

He shrugged. “It’s money that won’t go to my kids. You’re welcome to it.”

“I appreciate the thought, but I couldn’t.”

“All right. How about a loan?”

She began to waver. “But I couldn’t begin to repay you until after Lizzie graduated.”

“I don’t need you to pay me back.” He held up his hands. “I know you’ll insist on it, but I don’t care as long as you take the money.”

Though Jenny wanted to grab the offer—realizing it was an opportunity that might never come again—she was wary of leaping into anything rashly. “I’ll think about it.”

He leaned forward, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’ve spent half your life looking after your sister. She’s happy, healthy, confident and doing what she wants. Now it’s your turn. You deserve a chance at your own dream coming true.”

Jenny swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”

Long after Harry had left, she sat in her rocking chair, mulling over what he’d said. Perhaps Harry was right. Perhaps this was her time. The mantle of fear that had weighed heavily on her shoulders for so long had finally lifted. Maybe it was a sign she should start a new phase of her life. One that was about what she wanted.

A baby.

Tentatively at first, then with growing enthusiasm, she thought about becoming a single parent. Then she grabbed her iPad and began to do some research. The more she read, the more the idea seemed possible.

It was past midnight before she put her pen down. It could work.

She sat back in the chair, rocking silently. Nestled alongside the happiness in her heart was a new emotion. One she hadn’t felt in far too long. Hope.

CHAPTER TWO

TWO MONTHS LATER.

“Damn, I wish we were still playing.”

Tru’s older brother, Ike, slammed his beer down on the table and glowered at the big screen, where New York had just scored against Washington, in Game 6 of the first round of the play-offs. “We won the season series against the Rangers and would be doing a better job of beating them than those jokers.”

“The last two games ‘those jokers’ played against us, they got a boat race—6–1 and 7–2.” Tru didn’t mention that Ike, the Cats’ goaltender, had been pulled for the backup in both games. “It wasn’t our year.”

Ever since their season had ended, he and his brother seemed to have talked about nothing else. They’d analyzed the situation to death; from the coaches to their teammates, crucial plays in crucial games, injuries, setbacks and what should have been done at the trade deadline to boost their faltering roster. None of which had helped ease the pain and frustration of being on summer vacation while other teams—including their rivals from across the Hudson—were still in the hunt for the Cup.

Ike swore. “You’re not going to spout that crap about ‘only one team can be champions’ and ‘there’s always next year.’”

“Get real. I’m as pissed off as you are, but I have bigger things to worry about. Like where the hell I’ll even be next year. According to the rumors, I’ll be traded at the draft.”

“You should stay off the fan boards and social media sites. Most of the junk they post isn’t worth the time it takes to read.”

At least his brother didn’t blow smoke up his ass. “I can’t avoid it, Ike. My name’s everywhere and everyone’s hammering me about my future. If we were in the play-offs, no one would question if I still have what it takes.”

“Anyone with a brain knows you do. For sure, the people that matter do.”

“I wish I had your confidence. The Cats haven’t even opened a dialogue with my agent, despite Andy pressing them hard.” Tru drained his beer. “They’ll talk to him about his other clients, like J.B. and Vlad, though.”

“Things are dicey in the front office right now. They’re probably stalling until our owners decide what they’re going to do about the Cats management. The Scartelli brothers have said publicly their team’s poor finish in the standings is unacceptable and they plan to put it right. Until it’s clear what’s happening to the coach, they won’t move on player deals.”

“If Max stays, he’ll be forced to shake things up, and a new coach always reworks the team his own way. Either way, it looks bad for me.”

From the TV, the horn sounded the end of the first period and coverage switched to commercials. The waitress brought their steaks and another round of beers. For several minutes, the brothers concentrated on their food.

Then Ike raised a hand in greeting to someone behind Tru.

A familiar tickle between his shoulder blades alerted Tru to who his brother was smiling at. Though he knew it was a mistake, Tru couldn’t resist turning around.

Jenny.

His heart jerked in his chest, as it always did when he saw her. As it had since the first time he saw her, back in first grade.

Her smile, bright for his brother, faded when she noticed Tru. Her expression became cool and distant before she turned away pointedly.

Tru’s gaze lingered, despite his best intentions. She must have come straight from work; she wore a blue suit that matched her eyes. The above-the-knee skirt and coordinating blue spiked heels showed off her long, shapely legs.

His stomach twisted when a man approached Jenny and hugged her, before pulling out a chair for her. There was something familiar about the guy. Tru’s tension eased when he realized it was her boss, Harry Sturridge. Though Tru was annoyed with himself for caring who Jenny ate dinner with, he couldn’t help being relieved it wasn’t a teammate. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with that tonight.

Sturridge said something to make Jenny laugh. The husky sound seemed to reach out and caress Tru through the bustle and noise of the restaurant.

Shifting to ease the sudden tightness in his groin, he forced himself to look away and focus on his meal, slicing into his rib eye.

Surprised when Ike didn’t make his usual crack about the antagonism between him and Jenny, Tru looked up. Ike was staring at the television, where, based on the logo on the screen behind the commentators, a studio panel was discussing the Ice Cats.

“What’s up, bro?”

“I’m not sure.” Ike pulled his cell out of his pocket, tapped the screen and frowned.

Tru knew instantly it wasn’t good news.

Ike didn’t keep him in suspense. “The Scartellis just fired Phillip Hannah. They’ll announce a new general manager in the next few days.”

Tru’s appetite vanished. That was a bigger organizational shake-up than anyone had anticipated. “Max’s days must be numbered, too. A new GM always wants to bring in his own coach. That means changes throughout the roster—maybe even a total rebuild—and the easiest guys to get rid of are the unrestricted free agents.”

Tru pushed back his chair angrily. “That puts my neck firmly on the block.”

“Cool your jets. The team needs experienced players, even in rebuild mode.”

“They have plenty of veterans—you, Jake, Scotty Matthews, Ralinkov, Juergen. Hell, even guys like J.B., Mad Dog and Blake have Cup experience. I’m expendable.”

Ike couldn’t deny that. “The Cats won’t let you go for nothing. They’ll want something in return. On the upside, lots of decent teams need a skilled defenseman.”

“Great. Except I don’t want to move. I don’t want to start over with a new team, in a new town, with a new freaking system. I wanted to spend the summer making sure I was 100 percent fit for next season, not looking for somewhere to live.”

“Talk to Andy. That’s why you pay your agent the big bucks. Find out what it would take for them to re-sign you.”

“Right.” Tru stood and tossed some bills on the table. “Catch you later, bro.”

“You’re leaving good rib eye?”

“Yeah. But you won’t let it go to waste.”

Tru wound his way between the tables, heading toward the door. What a great year; first his love life, then the season and now his career going down the toilet.

Almost too late, he realized he couldn’t avoid passing Jenny’s table. He tried not to catch her eye. Unfortunately, as he walked behind her boss’s chair, their gazes clashed.

His pulse jumped. Heat seared through him.

For an instant, Tru thought he saw an answering fire in her turquoise depths, but it was extinguished immediately and replaced with ice. She averted her eyes abruptly and smiled softly at her dinner companion.

The sting of the virtual slap was as sharp as if her palm had connected with his cheek.

Tru continued without breaking his stride. Her laugh scraped his raw nerves like a whetstone on a steel skate blade.

Jenny’s reaction toward him was the one thing he could rely on right now. Wasn’t that a sorry state of affairs? He pulled out his cell and called his agent, desperately hoping there was something Andy could do to keep him with the Cats. Unfortunately, Tru’s gut told him the chances of a miracle save had just skated out of town with his GM.

* * *

“YOU HAVEN’T LISTENED to a word I’ve said, missy.”

Harry’s good-natured grumble made Jenny blink and turn her head from staring unseeing out of the car window. The bright morning sunshine reflected her giddy happiness.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t believe it. Everything’s happened so quickly. Last night, when we had dinner, I was plain old me.” She paused, then said softly, “Now I have a live embryo inside me. I’m sort of a mother-in-waiting.”

“You’ve never been a plain old anything. And you make a lovely mother-in-waiting. Do you feel any different?”

“It’s too early to have any symptoms.” Jenny giggled. “I won’t even know if the embryo implanted properly until I take the pregnancy test in two weeks.”

“I didn’t mean morning sickness. Do you feel any different in yourself?”

Jenny thought about it for a few moments. “Actually, I do. It’ll sound silly, but I feel almost serene.”

“My Alice felt the same each time she was pregnant. She’d laugh and say it was the only time in her life she’d ever be described as Madonna-like—the religious one, not the pop star.”

“That’s a perfect description. Though I wouldn’t mind a dash of the other Madonna, too.”

Harry laughed. “You could give the Material Girl a run for her money any day.”

“Thanks, but you’re a teensy bit biased.”

“Never. I’m a cynical, heartless bastard. Ask my kids.”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “They take your money.”

“Dollars spend easily, no matter who they come from.”

The lack of appreciation Harry’s children had for their father annoyed Jenny.

He had supported her through every step of the IVF process, with as much interest as if he were the grandfather-to-be. From helping her choose the sperm donor to taking her for ultrasounds. After yesterday’s egg-removal, he’d taken her to dinner, to distract her while she waited nervously to hear if her sole embryo was viable.

Naturally, this morning, Harry had accompanied her to the clinic for the implantation and would doubtless wait on tenterhooks to see if the procedure had been successful.

As if a cloud passed in front of the sun, her happiness dimmed a little. She knew the odds of success were lower than normal because she’d only been able to produce one embryo. Plus, her internal scarring might prevent her carrying a baby to term. “What if it fails?”

Harry frowned at the tremor in her voice. “Then you’ll try again. We discussed this.”

“But it’s so expensive. I can’t...”

“Don’t you dare say you can’t afford it. We have an agreement.”

“I know, but it’s a huge amount of money for one round of IVF, let alone three.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m a wealthy man. I still don’t understand why you won’t take the money in a lump sum, instead of separate payments for each attempt.”

“Because there would be too many zeros involved. I’m already worried it’ll take years to repay what you’ve lent me so far.”

“Lizzie’s education is your priority. Once she finishes college, we’ll talk again about a repayment schedule.” Harry patted his breast pocket. “Besides, I have your signed IOU tucked safely in here, in case you ever think of welching on the loan.”