A Perfect Trade (Harlequin Superromance) (19 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

“I
CAN
’
T
BELIEVE
IT
.
Six follicles. That’s twice as many as last time.” Jenny bubbled with excitement over the result of her latest ultrasound.

Tru grinned as he drove them to the Italian restaurant she’d chosen for today’s celebratory lunch. The past ten days had been a wild, emotional ride, filled with the lows and highs of scans every other day and the nervous wait to see whether the drugs would work. He’d assumed the worst part of the process would be later on—waiting to see if the embryos implanted successfully—but the worrying had started straightaway. Having been through it once, unsuccessfully, Jenny was sensitive to what could go wrong at every stage. Starting with not producing enough follicles.

Since not every follicle housed an egg, and not every fertilized egg became an embryo—let alone one good enough to implant—Tru didn’t need to be a math genius to know that more follicles meant a greater chance of success. Jenny was already at a disadvantage because of her lone working ovary. She had been terrified the team would abandon the process after the first ultrasound, which had only shown one small follicle. Thankfully, the second scan had been more encouraging. The picture had improved with each successive visit.

Today, Jenny had practically danced out of the ultrasound room.

She sighed as he pulled into the parking lot. “It’s still a long shot.”

“Stop.” Tru shook his head at her. “Let’s celebrate the good news before we worry about the next phase.”

He’d insisted they go for lunch after each of the scans, regardless of the result, even if only for a sandwich at the nearest deli. The first outing, at a local Greek café, had initially been tense, with stilted conversation, but things had eased with each successive lunch. He was grateful he hadn’t completely destroyed things between them.

As the scan results had improved, so had their relationship. They hadn’t quite returned to how they were before Connor Smith’s phone call, but the attraction between them had begun to simmer again. There hadn’t been any further kisses—not even holding hands—but he’d caught glimpses of smoldering fire in Jenny’s eyes more than once in recent days. While he’d been tempted to see if he could get flames to dance in those blue depths again, he’d told himself to be patient. She had to make the first move.

He hoped she’d make it soon.

Tru parked, then got out to open Jenny’s door. “Come on. I’ll even treat you to their delicious tiramisu.”

Jenny unclipped her seat belt. “Would it be wrong to start with dessert?”

“Anyone who has a problem with it can talk to me. I’ll set them straight.”

“You know you’re not allowed to hip-check in a restaurant?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I can get my point across without smashing anyone into walls.”

She giggled. “I’m sure you can.”

Luckily their unsuspecting waiter didn’t blink at Jenny’s request. Tru ordered the shrimp bruschetta; he had to watch calories in the off-season.

Over dessert/appetizer, then pasta, their conversation gravitated to hockey and the previous night’s Stanley Cup final game between Washington and San Jose. The Sharks had won in overtime, evening up the series at one game apiece.

“San Jose must be delighted they picked up Matt Gilbert from Boston at the trade deadline.” Jenny polished off the tiramisu. “His pass to set up the game-winner was wicked.”

“Yeah. The kid has good hands,” Tru said absently.

Jenny’s mention of Boston had turned his mind to the letter he’d received that morning. His father was growing impatient. If Tru didn’t get back to him, his dad had threatened to come down to Jersey to see him. If that didn’t work, he’d contact Karina.

The last thing Tru wanted was for his mom to get a surprise letter, or worse, a visit, from his old man. He had to decide what to do. Quickly. The problem was Radek Jelinek had painted him into a corner.

“Is something wrong?” Jenny’s concerned voice cut into his thoughts.

He started. “Uh, no. I’m fine.”

“That’s why you put sugar on your pasta instead of pepper.”

So he had.

“No more secrets, Tru.”

“I don’t want to bother you with my problems.”

Her wry look told him that wouldn’t cut it. “Has your contract come through yet?”

“No. Andy’s been pushing hard, but the Cats keep stalling. They claim they have to get some other players signed before me, like Larocque and Ralinkov.”

“After all your sacrifices, they’re still stalling?”

Tru shrugged, trying not to show how much the continued delay was bothering him. “Andy keeps reassuring me it’ll get done. He’s giving management until the end of next week. By then the finals will have finished and attention will turn toward the draft and free agency. He thinks the threat of a potential big offer from another team will make them sign me quickly, to take me off the market. All I can do is wait and see.”

“It wouldn’t be the end of the world to move to another team,” she said gently. “Jake managed okay. At least you’ll still play hockey at the highest level. You may even get a better chance to win another Cup.”

His pulse hitched as she laid her hand on his. He turned his hand over so their palms met, then twined their fingers.

“My brain gets that, but my heart...” He patted his chest with his other fist. “I want to finish my career with the Cats.”

He didn’t mention that a move would take him away from her, too. She was probably banking on him getting traded and he didn’t want to see that reflected in her eyes.

Time to change the subject. “We’re meant to be celebrating. One more ultrasound and we can move on to the next phase.”

Jenny released his hand to hold up crossed fingers. Her smile faded. “If your career isn’t bothering you, what is?”

Damn. She wasn’t going to let him off the hook.

Tru twirled linguini onto his fork. Should he tell her? Once he started, the whole sorry story would come out. Would she hold his childhood actions against him? Then again, sharing the details would prove he was prepared to keep his promise, in spite of that risk.

He swallowed his mouthful. “Remember that complicated family thing?”

“Sure.”

“It’s to do with my dad.”

“Your father?” Jenny’s fork clattered to her plate. “But he hasn’t been around since we were kids.”

“Yeah. Well, he’s decided he wants to return.” Tru told her about the letters. “He wants to meet, so I can ease his way back into our family.”

“That must be a shock, after all this time.” Her tone was sympathetic. “How do your mom and brothers feel about it?”

“I haven’t told them yet.” When she frowned, he hurried on. “I wanted to check him out before getting them worked up over seeing him again. If my father’s only using us, it’ll save everyone a lot of heartache down the line.”

“I get why you want to be cautious, especially about Karina, but don’t you think you should tell your brothers? They won’t appreciate being kept in the dark about something so important.” Her pointed look drove home her message.

“The problem is that Ike’s still so bitter, he wouldn’t be objective. Linc’s the opposite—he was a baby when Dad left and doesn’t remember him. He’ll have a more romantic view of the old man’s return. As for Kenny, he won’t care either way as long as it doesn’t interfere with his chances of getting a regular spot on the Ice Cats.”

“The only one who can think clearly about this is you?” she said carefully.

“Yes, right now. Once I’m certain my father is on the level, I’ll tell my bros and they can make up their own minds about what they want to do. Then we’ll decide together about telling Mom. I have no idea how she’ll react, but I won’t let my dad hurt her.” He then told Jenny about the P.I. he’d hired to investigate his father.

“What did he find out?”

“My dad isn’t with the heiress anymore. They never got married and there’s no record of him marrying anyone else, though he lives with a cocktail waitress. He’s a cabdriver, like he was here before he left.” Tru stated the facts baldly, as if he was reading the information from the report. Which was tough, when he had such mixed feelings.

He was glad his father’s new life hadn’t worked out. Served him right. He’d made his own bed; he could damn well lie in it. But a small part of Tru felt sorry for his old man. Tru didn’t understand why. Perhaps it was guilt. Perhaps it was because he’d hoped for years his dad would regret abandoning his family and return. Was that why he’d reached out now?

“So the move to Boston didn’t pan out.” Jenny’s lip curled. “Did the P.I. find anything to suggest your father’s interest is genuine?”

Tru pulled out his phone. “Here, read the report for yourself.”

She was quiet as she scrolled through the pages. Her expression didn’t change. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but the vibe wasn’t good. She handed his phone back as the waiter came to clear away their plates.

“What do you think?” Tru asked impatiently.

“Honestly?”

“No more secrets.”

Jenny gave him an apologetic look. “It doesn’t look good. Your father hasn’t got any money of his own. He lives in his girlfriend’s apartment, but he doesn’t contribute to rent or bills. The money in their joint account is hers, yet he spends it. And, though he’s registered with a cab company, he barely works.”

“You think he wants an easy payday.” Ice water couldn’t wash away the bitter taste in his mouth.

“I’m sorry, but yes.”

“You’re probably right.” He sighed heavily. “I can’t help wondering if there’s more to his story. We both know appearances can be deceptive. I don’t want to rush a decision—I can’t afford to get this wrong.”

“Why don’t you stall? Tell your father you have some important things going on and you can’t see him until they’re sorted.”

“What if he won’t accept that answer and comes here?”

“Give him a date. He won’t jeopardize his position by coming to Jersey before that. In the meantime, you can dig a little deeper.”

Jenny’s suggestion made sense, but there was only one way to know for sure if his father had changed. “I think I should fly to Boston to see him for myself.”

Her brow creased. “Is that wise? From what you’ve told me, he’s a convincing liar.”

“I’ll know if he’s spinning one of his fairy tales.” Tru ignored the warning twist in his gut.

“But can you be objective? Can you resist whatever sob story he’s concocted to worm his way into your sympathy and your bank account?”

“Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind that he’s on the make.”

“Based on that report, the chances are pretty high. You and Ike, even Kenny, make more in a year than your father could earn in a lifetime. Someone like him will be salivating at the thought of what he could get from you.”

“That’s why I won’t let him near my family until I’m sure.” He traced a pattern in the checked tablecloth with his thumbnail. “If I don’t do this, I’ll always wonder if I did the right thing. I have enough guilt on my shoulders already.”

Jenny searched his face. “You’re not talking about guilt over what happened with me, are you?”

Unable to speak past the tightness in his throat, he shook his head.

The time had come to tell someone what he’d done. Perhaps it was ironic that it was Jenny. Was it too much to hope she’d understand?

Realization dawned on her face. “You think you’re responsible for your father leaving.”

He scrunched his napkin into a tight ball. “I
know
I am.”

“You were just a kid,” she said softly. “You couldn’t have stopped him.”

“I pushed him out the door,” he rasped.

“You’re kidding.” She started to brush off his admission, but his flat tone must have registered. “You’re
not
kidding.”

“I caught my father with that heiress and threatened to tell Mom.” Even though he wasn’t that scrawny kid anymore, his stomach tightened. “He told me to keep my nose out of grown-up business.”

“There you go. He didn’t take you seriously.”

“I didn’t let it end there.”

Jenny tilted her head, encouraging Tru to continue. There was no censure in her blue eyes; only sympathy.

“I searched his desk. In the bottom drawer was a box full of love notes and a handkerchief marked with a red lipstick kiss.”

“You made sure your mom found the box?”

Tru shook his head. “I knew Mom would be doing laundry the next day—she always did on Mondays—so I dropped the handkerchief in the washing basket. The next night, I heard my parents arguing after my dad got home from work. He stormed out of the house. Mom cried.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I should have left it alone.”

“Your mom probably would have found out sooner or later. She could already have been suspicious.”

“No way. My dad having an affair wouldn’t have crossed her mind.”

“Karina isn’t dumb.”

Still, Tru knew he wasn’t blameless. “I made it happen. I have to fix it.”

“Have you thought that maybe no one needs you to fix it? That they’ve moved on? That the only person needing closure is you?”

Tru stared at the scrunched-up napkin, wanting to toss it across the restaurant.

Jenny leaned forward, forcing him to meet her gaze. “You’ll open up a whole new can of worms if you carry on with this. Especially if you don’t tell your brothers.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

She puffed out a frustrated breath. “If you’re dead set on going up there, take Jake with you. Or me.”

“Thanks.” Jenny’s support, despite her obvious disapproval, touched him. “But it’s best I do this alone. I’ll be up and back in a day.”

“Will you at least promise me you’ll call if things get rocky?”

“Sure.” He smiled. “Anyway, we have more important things to think about—like those six follicles.”

Jenny gave him one last, long look, then accepted the change in subject. “Assuming everything is okay at the ultrasound, the day after tomorrow, then the next stage is egg extraction a couple of days later.”

Tru’s stomach rolled.
Great.

* * *

“Y
OU
HAVE
THREE
good-quality eggs.”