A Perfect Trade. Anna Sugden

or Lizzie.”

      Fear twisted his gut as tears filled her eyes and spilled over. Now he knew for sure something was wrong. Jenny never cried.

      * * *

      DAMN. DAMN. DAMN.

      Damn fate’s irony for bringing her full circle at the most vulnerable point in her life. Back to the first man she’d ever loved, and trusted. Talk about adding insult to injury.

      Her heart had jumped when he’d slipped into her booth. The concern in his green eyes and in his deep voice had warmed her.

      Jenny swiped at the tears and tried to compose herself. It had been hard enough to control her feelings tonight, without having Tru so close. She couldn’t handle him right now. She was too raw. The pain of her loss ached, deep inside. Yet the urge to lean on him, to absorb his strength, whispered through her.

      No! That’s how it had started last time. She was still paying the price of that mistake.

      She should leave before the emotions coursing through her made her do something she’d regret. Jenny stood.

      As she pushed past him, Tru’s hand caught her wrist. “Don’t go. I’ll leave you alone.”

      Her pulse fluttered—fight or flight? She didn’t have the energy for either. She sank back into the booth. “All right.”

      The sight of the cooling food—fat congealing, covered in red sauce—was too much for her roiling stomach. She pushed the plate away and reached for her drink. The burn of the bourbon as it slid down her throat was strangely comforting.

      “Can I call someone for you?”

      Using the sharp pain of her memories to bolster her strength, she stiffened her spine. “No, thanks. I’m just tired.”

      “Bull.”

      “Excuse me?” One eyebrow arched haughtily.

      “You heard me.” He leaned over and planted his palms on the table. “This is more than being tired.” A tenacious look settled across his face. Glib answers wouldn’t cut it this time.

      Yet she couldn’t share the truth with him. “If you must know, I lost my job.”

      “I’m sorry.” Tru straightened and slid into the seat opposite her. “You’ll find another one. Maybe not with the same perks, but a decent job.”

      Disappointment sliced through her. She knew what he meant by perks, but couldn’t be bothered to set him straight. “That’s not the problem.”

      As she explained, she signaled the waitress for another Jack Daniel’s. The perfect anesthetic to numb the pain and chase away the misery.

      It might even help her deal with Tru.

      “The bastard.” He looked ready to deal Irving some old-style hockey justice.

      She tamped down the pleasure that flared at his support. “It’s my own fault. I should’ve made sure my contract had been updated. I just assumed. Now it’s too late. At least until Harry wakes up.”

      Her drink arrived and she took a large swallow. The second shot went down more smoothly, warming her tight throat. Jenny raised the glass to her lips again.

      “What’s really going on?”

      The bourbon went down the wrong way, making her splutter.

      Tru was beside her in an instant. He swapped her Jack for a glass of water.

      By the time she could breathe again, she realized Tru’s thigh was pressed against hers. His arm lay across her shoulders as he encouraged her to drink more water.

      Heat flooded through her. She tried to edge away, but her bag took up the remaining space between her and the wall.

      “Jenny?” The worry etched into his face was nearly her undoing.

      “I’m fine.” She pulled her bag onto her lap then moved as far as the enclosed booth allowed. “Look, I appreciate the concern.” She hardened her voice. “But it’s none of your business.”

      She reached for the glass of bourbon, drained it, then deliberately raised her hand for another. The waitress brought it almost immediately.

      Tru’s intense gaze seemed to penetrate her defenses and see into her soul. “Whatever’s going on is tearing you apart.” He paused and sighed heavily. “I’ve never seen you cry.”

      Because she’d never let him. Not even when she’d told him about the abuse.

      She couldn’t bear the conversation another second. “I have to go.”

      She swallowed the refreshed drink, but this one didn’t go down as smoothly. She swayed slightly as she stood. Damn. She should have eaten more of that burger.

      Once again, Tru stopped her. But his touch only added to her light-headedness.

      Great. Just what she needed. She shrugged off his hand. “If it’ll get you off my back, I promise to talk to someone.”

      He didn’t need to know there wasn’t anyone she could tell.

      Her head pounded. Waves of fatigue swirled around her. This time, she managed to push him away, but she didn’t get far.

      “Come on.” He tossed some bills on the table then took her arm. “I’ll drive you home.”

      The whiskey lay heavily in her stomach. “My car,” she muttered, as she walked unsteadily, each step taking serious effort and concentration.

      “I’ll bring you by to pick it up tomorrow.”

      She didn’t like leaning on him, but knew she couldn’t make it to the door without his support. “I’m not drunk. Too little food. Tired. Sick.”

      “Will she be all right?” the concerned waitress asked, as they passed.

      “I’ll take care of her.”

      Jenny snorted. His kind of care she didn’t need.

      Outside the diner, the cool air cut through some of the haze in her brain. Pain filled her. Pain from the past. Pain from the present. The image of that one pink line swam before her eyes. No baby. No chance of a baby. Her knees crumpled beneath her.

      Tru caught her before she hit the wet pavement and lowered her gently to the ground.

      Jenny welcomed the damp seeping through her clothes as she rested her cheek against the cool stone.

      “You can’t stay here.” Tru’s sharp words made her frown.

      Why was he being mean? “You’re not the boss of me.”

      “No. I’m not.”

      She nodded, pleased he’d agreed. The motion made her head swim. She moaned softly.

      Tru swore, then swung her up into his arms.

      Jenny thought about struggling, but it took all her energy to control her roiling stomach. Focusing on the hard chest beneath her cheek helped. She’d bet he was ripped beneath his shirt. She trailed a finger down the corded sinew of his neck. Mmm. Yes. Definitely ripped. Tight, flat abs, thighs like tree trunks, rock-hard biceps.

      “Stop that.” Tru sounded strained as her finger slid beneath the open collar of his shirt. “If you don’t stop wriggling, I’ll drop you.”

      Settling her head against his shoulder, she closed her increasingly heavy eyes. She barely registered him putting her into his car, or the drive home. As the car stopped, she tried to rouse herself. But her stomach began to churn dangerously. When Tru went to lift her into his arms, she shook her head. Acid rose in her throat. Not in front of Tru.

      She pushed away from him. But it was too late. Jenny dropped to her knees beside a large bush and threw up.

      CHAPTER