The Secret Between Them. Cathryn Parry

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      If he hadn’t heard her first, he would never have recognized her.

      She was...heavier than she’d been when he last saw her. She’d taken her coat off and was hanging it up, and he could see she was wearing leggings with a baggy tunic on top. Was she pregnant?

      She lifted her hand, and he could see she had a big, pink, glittery rock on her ring finger. His heart sank.

      Ridiculous, he told himself. Why shouldn’t Jessa—Jessica—be married? Or have kids? Or be happy?

      She’d never been his, not really. He’d never even kissed her.

      Still, his feet seemed rooted. She’d always had the most expressive brown eyes. A way of looking at people with her head tilted, as if she was really paying attention to them—really seeing them.

      He’d seen between the cracks, though. God, he’d ached for her. Disgusted with himself, he shook his head.

      He should leave. Make his retreat while he still could. Ultimately, he’d been the one responsible for injuring this girl—he’d flooded the ice with water when he’d been angry at Joe, and even though Kyle hadn’t personally seen it, as soon as his Zamboni had left the ice, she’d fallen, injuring her knee. He’d tried to talk to her about it afterward, but she was nowhere to be found.

      She hadn’t recovered in time to compete for a slot in the Olympic Games. The incident had gotten so much media attention that she’d gone underground. Kyle never talked to her again, had never known for sure if she blamed him, but Joe had. So, he was certain, had her mother.

      Damn—her mother. Kyle would probably bump into her, too, at Joe’s funeral tomorrow. It might be less painful to get an initial meeting with Jessica done and over with now.

      Girding himself, he stepped toward her...

      He knew the moment she sighted him. She gazed at him with confusion in her eyes, which slowly dawned into recognition.

      Yeah. He no longer looked like Kyle-the-high-school-hockey-star, either.

      He had a beard now, as well as a couple dozen extra pounds, which he liked to pride himself was all muscle.

      He didn’t get a smile from her.

      A man stood beside her, chatting with the hostess, oblivious to the fact that Kyle was staring at his date. What did Jessica see in this smooth-looking player of a guy wearing an expensive business suit and overcoat? Fancy-pants, even for a Valentine’s Day date.

      Or maybe Kyle was just jealous. But he couldn’t bug out now even if he wanted to. He was itching to reach down and adjust the sleeve that covered the top of his prosthetic leg, beneath his pants, but he couldn’t. No way. Not in front of Jessica.

      He walked over to her, as carefully and confidently as he could. As he approached her and her date, she placed a hand on the guy’s arm and he turned to her briefly, smiling at her before turning back to the hostess stand. Jessica gazed at the guy longingly, biting her lip before facing Kyle again.

      Kyle felt slayed. From the day she’d moved to Wallis Point when he’d been fourteen years old, he’d been drawn to this girl—now woman—and he thought she had been drawn to him, too. Until she just left.

      “Kyle Northrup?” she asked, squinting up at him.

      He nodded at her. Once. Sharply.

      She gave him a smile, but it seemed forced. Her hand stayed on her date, though he was still engaged in an earnest conversation with the hostess, and now, a server. Something about him wanting a booth in a quiet room by the window and that nothing else would do.

      “You’re...in town for Joe’s funeral?” Jessica asked Kyle in a low voice.

      She didn’t seem angry, just...reserved. Cautious, he nodded again. “Did the lawyer call you about the will reading?”

      “Yes.” She glanced down, licking her lips and looking guilty. “It’s nothing, really. While Joe was in for a therapy session, I made the mistake of complimenting his onyx ring. He said he would leave it to me in his will. I thought he was joking.”

      That onyx ring had been important to Joe. He’d never taken it off. “He didn’t joke,” Kyle said.

      “I’m not...horning in on anything that’s yours,” Jessica murmured, still not looking at him. “You’re his only living relative. I’ll give it to you if you want.”

      Strange, but she was the one who seemed guilty. “I don’t want it,” Kyle said, more sharply than he’d planned. But he didn’t care about the ring. He was here for the rink.

      The guy she had her hand latched onto turned back to her and winked. “You ready, babe? They’re setting up a table for us.”

      She smiled at him, looking relieved. “Sebastien, this is Kyle Northrup.”

      Sebastien? Kyle thought. What kind of name was that? They’d never had any Sebastiens in Wallis Point.

      Sebastien gave Kyle a questioning half smile, but made no move to shake his hand, and that was fine with Kyle.

      “Kyle is Joe Mansell’s stepson,” Jessica explained. “He’s here for the funeral.”

      “I’m sorry for your loss,” Sebastien said, looking genuinely concerned.

      “Thanks,” Kyle conceded.

      Jessica turned to Kyle, smiling harder now. This was her “on” face, her way of smoothing social niceties. He remembered that about her.

      The last time he’d seen her she’d been seventeen. To the world, she always came off as poised, confident in her talent. She’d always been friendly and chatty toward other people and the media. She knew how to shine brightly, make everyone around her feel better.

      But Kyle had seen beneath the cracks in her facade. So often, she’d been in closed-rink sessions—he’d see her sometimes when she left, and she rarely looked happy. He’d privately thought her mother was a viper. Pressured her just as hard as Joe had pressured him. Jessa also had her hiding spots in the old rink. The ballet room in early mornings, for one. Kyle used to come in, catch her alone when he could, bring her coffee to cheer her up...

      He snapped back to reality. There’d been a long, pointedly awkward silence, and he needed to say something. But now sure wasn’t the time for an apology for ending her great career. Not with Sebastien looking on.

      Kyle stared at her glittery pink engagement ring. He felt her staring at him silently. Sebastien, too.

      Kyle’s gaze moved over to her stomach, beneath the baggy top. Back to her ring again.

      “Congratulations,” he muttered, nodding at the ring. Then he cleared his throat.

      Without looking at Jessica again, without trying to see or judge if there were still any more cracks beneath the facade or even feelings of commiseration with him, as in days of old, he turned and left. After the funeral and the will reading, he hoped he’d never see her again.

      * * *

      JESSICA СКАЧАТЬ