Free A Perfect Trade (Harlequin Superromance) by Anna Sugden - A Perfect Trade (Harlequin Superromance)

rang a second time, she checked the caller ID.
    Why was Maggie so keen to get hold of her?
    Drawing on every ounce of reserve strength, Jenny answered.
    “You sound odd.” Worry tinged her friend’s words. “Is everything all right?”
    Jenny injected a bright note into her voice. “I’m fine. Just a little tired. What’s up?”
    “I have good news. How would you like to be a godmother?”
    “A what?” The lipstick dropped out of her suddenly nerveless fingers.
    Maggie giggled. “A godmother.”
    Her brain took several seconds to make the connection. “You...you’re pregnant?”
    Pain seared through her.
    “I’m due in November.” Maggie bubbled with excitement. “I can’t believe it. Jake and I have been trying for so long, I’d almost given up.”
    As Maggie chatted away about ultrasounds and due dates, Jenny tried to pull herself together. To stop the wrenching in her stomach.
    She was happy for Maggie. And she’d tell her...in a minute...when she had the strength. “Congratulations. Jake must be thrilled.”
    “He says it’s like winning the Cup all over again.”
    “With him scoring the winning goal.” Jenny’s laugh was watery, but genuine.
    Each moment the call continued was agony, yet she couldn’t spoil her friend’s happiness by cutting her short. Jenny had no idea what she said, but somehow she managed to keep up her end of the conversation.
    Just as she thought she couldn’t take a moment more, Maggie released her.
    Jenny had barely hung up when her knees gave way and she slid to the floor.
    Grief washed over her in waves. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to mute the sobs that escaped. Wrapping her arms around herself, she rocked back and forth.
    But she couldn’t hold back anymore. Mewling cries, wrenched from deep within, echoed around the empty room.
    Darkness had fallen by the time the storm inside Jenny began to calm. Her throat was hoarse, her lips parched, her eyes scratchy. Her muscles ached.
    But her heart was numb, at last.
    I have to get out of here.
    Where could she go? She looked a mess. Hell, she was a mess. She needed a place where she could sit alone. She couldn’t face bumping into someone she knew.
    Memories of an old stomping ground surfaced.
    Jenny hadn’t been to the Exeter Diner in a long time. A hole-in-the-wall, with dim lighting, where the regulars kept to themselves. She’d escaped there as a teenager when she couldn’t handle being in Douglas’s house. Then later she’d hung out there with Tru.
    How many times had she driven past over the years? She’d never stopped because the place held too many memories. Of Tru’s friendship turning to something more special. More precious. Of their first tentative kisses in those shadowed booths. Of whispered secrets and stolen moments.
    Of that final night when he’d promised to keep her safe, then destroyed her safety. The night he’d wrecked their friendship and killed their blossoming love.
    Yet, as much as she shied away from the memories the Exeter Diner evoked, she was drawn to its siren call. To its familiarity and to the peace she could find by sheltering in the cocoon of those high-sided bench seats.
    What did she have to lose? Tru wouldn’t be there. Nor anyone else she knew.
    Jenny got to her feet and hurried back into the bathroom. She washed her face again, then grabbed her purse and hurried out the door.
    * * *
    A COLD BEER , a rare burger with all the trimmings and not a hockey fan in sight.
    Exactly what Tru needed. The tension that had tightened his shoulders since that damn encounter with Don and Dirk in the sporting goods store finally began to ease. He leaned back against the padded leather seat in the dark booth and took a long drink from the bottle the gum-snapping waitress had just served him.
    He’d nearly forgotten about this diner, back in the old neighborhood; he hadn’t been here in years. When he’d stormed out of the Plaza, he hadn’t wanted to go home, but also