Anna Sugden - A Perfect Trade

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.