Her Secret, His Child: A Little Secret by Tara Quinn (romance book recommendations TXT) 📗

With an inelegant snort, Karen let Jamie know what she thought of that. "Have you been out on a date, even once, since you had her?"

"Not…really." Last Friday didn't count.

"Don't you think five years is long enough to grieve?"

If she only knew. "I'm not grieving." Had Karen forgotten she wasn't a widow?

"Aren't you?" Potatoes and onions in the pan, Karen started scooping up the carrots Jamie had managed to cut. ' 'Seems to me you got burned and you're grieving for the dreams you lost."

Jamie was so busy convincing herself that she knew exactly what she wanted—or didn't want— that it took a minute for Karen's words to sink in. For the truth to hit her.

Maybe she was grieving. Not for lost dreams; she'd given up on them the day she'd met Tom Webber's chic and "out of her league" wife. But the more time she spent with Kyle, the more she suspected that the night they'd shared all those years ago had been as special as she'd first thought—and the harder it was for her to forget, to be happy only with what she had.

It seemed there were some dreams that didn't die. No matter how hopeless they might be.

Kyle was on his third cup of coffee by the time Jamie arrived at the campus deli they'd decided on for their breakfast Wednesday morning. And be-

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cause he was sure she was the punctual sort, he figured he'd arrive half an hour or so early. He couldn't be positive, of course, as he'd left both his planners at home that morning, so couldn't confirm the exact time they'd agreed on. Nine-thirty, he thought. He'd slept through his alarm and been pushed just to make it to his 8 a.m. class before everyone figured him for a no-show and cut out. Under the circumstances, he could hardly be blamed for forgetting a thing or two. Anyway, better to get there early.

"Hi, sorry I'm late," she said, out of breath as she slid into the booth across from him. "Ashley's school called. She fell and they thought it might be more serious than it was."

"She's okay?"

"Fine." Jamie smiled, shrugging her overcoat off her shoulders. "A bruised chin, but with all the attention she's getting, I'll bet she thinks a bruise is a small price to pay."

"You've seen her?" He didn't even need to ask. Jamie was that kind of person, would be that kind of mother. Her kid would never have to wonder if there was going to be dinner on the table or clean clothes for school. Jamie's daughter would never go without a warm hug when the boogeyman reared his ugly head.

"Just came from her preschool." She glanced at her watch. "It's after ten—I'm sorry. But that's why I'm almost half an hour late. I didn't think you'd still be here."

Kyle shrugged. "Shows you how desperate I am." Looking his fill, loving the rosy flush on her

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cheeks, the slight tilt of her lips, the way her bulky sweater all but hid her generous breasts, Kyle knew there was more truth than he'd like in that remark.

After they decided what they wanted to eat, Kyle went up to the counter and bought breakfast. And then, without even trying, he spent the next half hour showing her what a complete ignoramus he was when it came to party planning. But he was great at taking suggestions, and they soon had a basic plan for the reception.

Because it was scheduled for mid-February, she was going to build it around Valentine's Day, using romantic literature as a theme for the evening. She suggested they blow up book covers—classics like Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, Pride and Prejudice. They'd attach the covers to Styrofoam and use them for wall decorations. She discussed renting additional tables and chairs, tablecloths, dishes. They'd need floral arrangements and candles. And what about a basket of books on each table? Her thoughts flowed so fast Kyle couldn't keep up with them. But he enjoyed listening to her just the same.

"We can use the books for food ideas," she said, finishing off the last of her cheddar-cheese bagel.

"Okay." Whatever.

' 'If we do Bronte, we can serve English tea cakes, maybe miniature shepherd's pie pastries, stuff like that."

Fine. If she thought cakes and pastries went together, then he was sure they did. "I'd like to meet your daughter."

Her face froze. "Why?"

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He probably shouldn't have pushed. But the woman was driving him crazy. When she smiled at him, she touched parts of him no one else had ever touched, and yet at other times, like now, she held him at arm's length, as if he were a complete stranger.

"She's obviously an important part of your life."

"Of course she is."

She wasn't going to make this friendship, as she'd called it, easy—for either of them. "So I'd like to meet her."

Jamie looked away, completely separated from him. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? I don't bite."

"No, but you're a man."

"Last time I checked." He shrugged lightly. "But I don't see the crime in that."

"Ashley's obsessing about her father right now. I don't think it would be wise to bring home a man."

There he was again. This mystery man Jamie had known, intimately, since that incredible night Kyle had made her his. Kyle was really starting to hate the guy. "Where is her father?"

"Out of her life." Jamie wouldn't look at him. "That's all that matters."

"Is he out of your life, too?"

Her gaze flew back to him, her eyes pleading for—he didn't know what. And then she nodded. "In any way that matters, he's more lost to me now than ever."

"The guy's a jerk."

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Through the pain in her eyes, Kyle saw the beginnings of a smile. "How could you possibly be in a position to know that?"

"First, because he left you."

"Maybe I left him."

"Second, because he left his daughter."

"Not all men want to be fathers."

"Like 1 said, he's a