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

he kept his dresser in his office? He was usually returning phone calls when he got dressed in the morning.

"Maybe." He was grinning, but only because she couldn't see.

"And you lost."

He tried to keep the smile out of his voice. "Maybe."

"So, which side were you on?"

"I happen to know, Miss Smarty Pants, that the man did not commit suicide."

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"Oh, you were a friend of his? You witnessed the death?"

"How was your flute lesson?"

"After he yelled at me for not practicing, you mean?"

"Okay."

"It went fine. There wasn't much time left." He could tell she was grinning, too.

Kyle swung around, glancing out his second-floor window to the quad below. Students laden with backpacks were heading to and from class, on foot, on bicycles and even on in-line skates. "Why are you taking the lessons if the guy gives you such a hard time?"

"Because I love them. But learning the flute just isn't as much of a priority as paying the bills—or playing with Ashley."

He couldn't argue there.

"How'd she do at dance class yesterday?"

"She didn't cry."

"That's an improvement. Did she participate?" Kyle couldn't understand why, after the first futile attempt when Ashley had refused to go into the class without her mother, Jamie insisted on taking Ashley back. Two years old was obviously a little young for dance lessons.

"You should've seen her, Kyle."

The enthusiasm in Jamie's voice got to him, as it always did when she forgot herself enough to go on about her daughter. The love she had for the child was unmistakable. Kyle had very mixed feelings about that. While he fell deeper in love with her

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every time he heard it, he was also just a little jealous. If she'd hung around five years before, that child would very likely have been his. He could've been sharing these moments with her instead of just hearing about them.

Spending the next five minutes hearing about every move Ashley made in dance class, right up to the star sticker she got at the end, Kyle could only blame himself for being on the outside looking in. If he hadn't been such an ass, hadn't taken advantage of an emotionally charged situation five years before, Jamie wouldn't have thought, even for a second, that he'd left her high and dry the next morning.

"Sounds like she had a great time," he said, when she finally took a breath.

"She loved it, Kyle."

"Margot Fonteyn better watch out, eh?" These conversations with Jamie had quickly become the favorite part of his day. Talking with her about every little happening in their lives was an intimacy he'd hardly dared hoped for six weeks ago.

"Margot Fonteyn has nothing to worry about," Jamie was saying, laughing. "For one thing, she's dead. For another, Ashley's a horrible dancer. She's got two left feet."

"But you said she did so well!"

"I said she loved it, and she tried," Jamie told him, laughter still in her tone. "But she couldn't step to the beat if her life depended on it."

"No future in ballet, huh? When you going to break the news to her?'' he asked solemnly.

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"I'm not." Jamie didn't surprise him. "As long as she's enjoying herself, I'll take her to class."

"Good for you."

"You'd do the same, wouldn't you?" she asked.

Those were the times Kyle liked best. When she included him, when she asked his opinion. Especially about Ashley. "I would."

"You busy tonight?" Her tone was different somehow.

"Just grading papers."

"Brad's essay?"

"Among others." She'd finally confessed to him that she'd overheard the conversation between him and Brad about Huckleberry Finn. The only thing he'd never understood was why she'd left without letting him know she was there.

"How do you think he did?"

"I don't know. Haven't looked at it yet." But he was afraid the boy still hadn't passed.

"Can you spare an hour tonight?"

"Of course," he said, sitting forward, pulling his calendars out of his briefcase. He had a faculty meeting in—he glanced at his watch—five minutes, but other than that, he was free for the rest of the day.

"Say around eight? It'll give me time to get Ashley to bed."

Disappointed that he still wasn't going to be allowed to meet the child, Kyle agreed to be at her house at eight.

"Is something up?" he asked, suddenly uncom-

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fortable. It wasn't like Jamie to invite him over for no reason.

"No!" she said.

And he knew instantly that there was.

Ringing off with one minute to spare before his meeting, Kyle was no longer in a good mood. In fact, his whole being was filled with dread.

Whatever Jamie had to tell him, the news was going to be bad. And the only thing that could come between them was Ashley's father. If the man had come back, if Jamie still loved him, there was nothing Kyle could do. Except hurt.

Probably because he was driving himself crazy with worry, Kyle was right on time that night. He'd stayed on campus all evening, not wanting to face the loneliness of his empty house, and his corduroy jacket was showing the day's wear. At least it was one of his newer ones and didn't have patches on the elbows. His blue jeans were fairly new, too. He might not have been at his best, but if he had to measure up to another guy, he wasn't at his worst, either. Not wanting to rush things, Kyle stood on the doorstep, waiting for the minute hand on his watch to reach the twelve. He brushed his hand through his thick mop of hair and wondered if he'd made an appointment to get it cut. If not, he needed to.

"Were you ever going to knock?" Jamie threw open the front door.

"Eventually." She looked beautiful. Her black slacks molded her hips and thighs before flaring down to the floor, and the blousy thing she was

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wearing tucked in at the waist showed off her proportions to perfection.

She motioned him in and shut the door behind him. "Why were you standing out there in the cold?"

Kyle shrugged, his