The Secret Between Them. Cathryn Parry

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СКАЧАТЬ David prepared to ask Kyle another question, but Kyle was saved by the touch of a hand on his shoulder.

      “Kyle?” A slender woman smiled at him, a pretty blonde he vaguely recognized. “I’m Natalie Kimball. We spoke on the phone.”

      Natalie seemed nothing like any lawyer he’d ever pictured—she was sweet-faced, thin and slight, soft-spoken. He shook her outstretched hand and nodded at her, saying nothing.

      With her other hand, she curled her hair back over her ear. Natalie wore a hearing aid.

      He felt himself relaxing.

      “This is my husband, Bruce Cole.”

      Bruce reached over and shook Kyle’s hand, too. Bruce was older than Kyle; his face wasn’t familiar, though Kyle remembered the name—he’d been blamed for the tragedy of his best friend’s automobile death.

      Kyle noticed the heavy gold ring Bruce wore. “You went to the Naval Academy?” he asked without thinking.

      Bruce nodded. “I’m inactive. I work in IT now, at the Portsmouth Navy Yard.”

      Kyle guessed that Bruce hadn’t seen combat. Still, Bruce was military. He understood. Kyle nodded back at him.

      Get through this, Kyle thought. Just get through this. If it weren’t for the will, he probably would’ve skipped town already.

      “I, ah, don’t see Jessica Hughes here,” Kyle commented to Natalie.

      Natalie glanced over the crowd. “You’re right. Maybe she stopped by earlier.”

      Kyle had been here since before the doors had opened. Jessica hadn’t come earlier. “Maybe she’s not feeling well.”

      Natalie tilted her head at him. “Do you know something I don’t?”

      “I saw her last night, I thought maybe she was pregnant.”

      “Really?” Natalie looked surprised. “Did you say that to her?”

      Oh, hell. Had he screwed up? “She had a ring on her finger. A guy was with her. She was wearing a baggy top and...”

      “Trust me, she’s not pregnant,” said an authoritative-sounding blonde who popped her head into their three-person circle.

      “That’s my sister Maureen,” Bruce said, nodding to the blonde. Kyle remembered Maureen Cole. They’d been in a lot of the same classes in high school.

      “Jessica’s not married or engaged, either,” Maureen said to Kyle. “I know, because I leased a beach house to her boyfriend, and I ask about these things. If you’re interested.”

      “No,” he said flatly. “I’m not interested.”

      They all looked at each other. Great.

      But Natalie smiled at him. “Don’t worry, Kyle. Things will be fine on Monday.”

      He shook his head. He’d just made their appointed meeting at her law office that much more awkward.

      “Where are you staying?” Natalie asked him, taking him aside.

      “The Grand Beachfront Hotel.”

      “Would you like me to give you a ride on Monday?”

      “That’s okay, I have my truck.”

      “You drove up from Maryland?” Natalie asked.

      He stared at her. “I wanted to be ready in case there’s anything I need to move to or from the rink to take it over quicker.”

      Natalie’s eyes widened. “Have you given notice on your job down in Maryland?”

      “I’m hoping to do that on Monday, ma’am.”

      Natalie gazed at him for a long time. Then she smiled. “That’s really good to know, Marine.”

      * * *

      JESSICA HAD MEANT to go to the funeral.

      She’d dressed in funeral clothes: a black skirt with boots and a long dark coat. But when the street had forked and it had come to a choice between steering her little orange Volkswagen toward the funeral parlor and taking the road that led to Sebastien’s house, she’d chosen Sebastien.

      She parked in his driveway, not exactly sure what she was doing. She felt knocked off-kilter about their Valentine’s Day dinner. After she’d turned around to watch the couple behind them getting engaged, it had been as if a switch had shut off in Sebastien. And for the rest of their dinner, he had been disconnected from her. Oh, he’d kept up polite conversation—he was a corporate marketing professional, after all, great with making small talk—but when he’d driven her home, he’d been quiet and pensive. And he’d begged off coming in for coffee. He had a full day on Saturday, he’d said.

      So had she. The funeral, for one thing. She owed it to Joe to attend. But...this thing with Sebastien was bugging her. He was her hope for her future. Her dream, her safe place. She hoped that Joe would understand she needed to set things right with Sebastien before she paid her respects to him.

      She stared at Sebastien’s black Nissan, parked in his driveway in front of her. She and Sebastien had never had a misunderstanding or a fight before. He was usually so easy and laid-back. He never asked her about her old life as Jessa Hughes and she didn’t ask him about his past, either. She’d thought that had been a great part of their relationship.

      Suddenly queasy, she turned her rearview mirror toward herself. She looked terrible, pale and drawn. She pinched color into her cheeks. Found her tube of lip gloss in her purse and smeared it on.

      She glanced at Sebastien’s front door. Since his car was in the driveway, he very likely was home. She was sort of hoping he’d see her out here in the cold and come outside and kiss her. Act as though everything was okay, as usual.

      But it wasn’t. She was the one who would have to be brave, who had to face whatever it was that had gone wrong. She got out and knocked on his door. She didn’t even have a key.

      He answered, dressed, a coffee mug in his hand. “Jess? Don’t you have a funeral to go to?”

      She nodded, miserable, standing on the doorstep feeling more alone than ever. “I’d rather talk to you.”

      Immediately, he opened the door. “Come in.” Instead of his normally easy smile, he wore a quizzical expression. He was in his bare feet, and she gazed down at them as she walked in.

      He took her coat and draped it over a leather couch. She never got over how spectacular his rental house was. On the beach, it had views of the surf. The ceilings were high, and in the kitchen, everything was gleaming modern stainless steel and white marble and real wood. The complete opposite of her dingy little winter rental in a drafty apartment beside a gas station.

      Without asking, Sebastien went into the kitchen and came back, pressing a warm mug of coffee into her hands.

      “I’m...sorry about last СКАЧАТЬ