Their Secret Bargain

by Kay Lyons

  “You don’t have them. I think I remember seeing them in the apartment before we left. Sorry, I should’ve said something.” She’d wondered about his habit of wearing sunglasses from sunrise to sunset. Other people probably thought he wore them to enhance an ultra-sexy image, but Jenn thought it had more to do with glare.

  He rubbed his eyes again. Was something else wrong? Why didn’t he fill out the forms?

  Nick shifted on his chair, hunched over the clipboard. She heard the sounds of paper rustling and glanced down. Nick was moving the forms back and forth ever so slightly. Just like Matt.

  Jenn noted his intense focus, the way he kept rubbing his head and the way his lips moved as he read. Almost as if he was trying to sound out the words?

  An awful suspicion came into her brain. Surely not. Nick ran two businesses and was quite successful at them. There was absolutely no reason to think he couldn’t…what? Couldn’t read?

  He rubbed his forehead harder and muttered another curse under his breath. And then Jenn thought of other things. The books on tape. The way Nick got upset when she’d asked him to read with Matt. Nick wasn’t the type of father to blow off something like that. Not unless he couldn’t do it. And if he couldn’t do something, he—

  Hired help. Suzanne’s husband. His managers. Her.

  Could it be true? Could he have built up such a solid wall of coping strategies over the years? Was it possible?

  You don’t know that that’s his problem.

  But what else could it be? Why wasn’t he writing? Dyslexia was diagnosed now after a long series of tests and evaluations, but when Nick was in school, it wasn’t. Especially in rural areas. Instead, kids were considered lazy and slow. Problematic.

  “Give me the papers.” Her voice was hoarse and shaky. She cleared her throat, hoping with all her heart she was wrong. She had to be wrong. It was just too painful a possibility to contemplate. But her head whirled with all the things she’d noticed while spending time with him, things she’d shrugged off as unimportant.

  Nick lifted his head and stared at her, his eyes bleak. Beleaguered, as if he were waiting for an ax to drop. If there was a problem, he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her, and this wasn’t the time or the place to confront Nick about her suspicions. Anyone upset, with a child in surgery, wasn’t able to think straight or concentrate on filling out papers. And until she knew otherwise, she had to assume that was all his hesitation was about. Not about dropping out or not having a basic education.

  But the look on his face. Nick seemed to be waiting for her to call him on it. Guilt, embarrassment. Pride. All the emotions were stamped on his features, and yet he appeared to be preparing himself to be blasted with censure. Meaning she was right?

  He wiped a hand over his eyes, rough and angry. “You don’t have to do them. Maybe you should go. You don’t want to hang around here all day.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Give me the papers.”

  “Seriously, you can leave if you want.”

  “I don’t want to leave.”

  “Jenn…”

  “Let me help you. I want to help you. Just… let me.”

  His face tightened even more but when he turned his head to look at her, his features were intentionally blank. Guarded. But so revealing. Oh, Nick.

  She held out her hand and ignored the way it trembled. “Give me the papers. I’ll take care of them.” For now. Then she’d do everything she could to discover what level of reading he had and figure out how he’d slipped through the system. Some kids did. Smart, intelligent kids learned all the tricks there were in order to protect themselves from embarrassment and the teasing of their peers. And so had Nick.

  To protect himself from his family?

  No wonder they didn’t get along. Nick’s über-successful parents and siblings were a smack in the face to someone who couldn’t—Her eyes misted with tears at the thought of what she’d made him do, the position she’d put him in at the dinner and then the wedding. Obviously Nick was functionally literate, but the thought of filling out papers with her watching him made him hugely uncomfortable.

  She remembered the charts at the gym. How he’d slid them across the desk so that she would fill in the blanks. So many individual things that she hadn’t picked up on.

  Jenn cleared her throat and took the sheaf of papers and pen from him. “What is Matt’s full name?”

  Nick hesitated a long moment, rubbed his forehead and gave her a look she couldn’t decipher.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Nick. Please don’t ask me again.”

  He released a resigned sigh. “Matthew Colton Tulane.”

  She filled in the blank, the moisture in her eyes blurring the words slightly. “Date of birth?”

  SIX HOURS. Six freakishly long hours of pacing the floor and enduring his father’s frowning disapproval, his mother’s worried glances and Gram eyeing Jenn like fresh meat. And Jenn…He was amazed she was still there. That she made eye contact and smiled at him. Did she know? Guess? She had to. She was too smart not to. Why had he thought he could actually spend any length of time with her and have her not find out?

  How much longer was this going to take?

  “You should have called us,” his father muttered for the thousandth time. “If Luke hadn’t called, we wouldn’t have even known to come.”

  Thank you, brother.

  “I think it’s understandable that Nick was more concerned with getting to his son than making calls,” Jenn said, her tone gentle but firm. Almost as if she spoke to one of the children she taught. “When you arrived, we’d only just gotten here ourselves, Dr. Tulane.”

  Gram smirked. Luke coughed. And Nick wondered how he could get rid of them all.

  Last night with Jenn had been…a new experience. A sweet one he wouldn’t have minded repeating.

  But after seeing the suspicion in Jenn’s eyes when he couldn’t fill out those stupid papers, he knew whatever they’d had was over. What had he been thinking? It shouldn’t have gone so far. Kissing her was one thing, complimenting Jenn to boost her self-image even though any man that looked at her had to see how beautiful she was another given in the scheme of things. But spending the night at her house with his truck out front for her neighbor’s to see?

  Even though they hadn’t had sex, gossip would say otherwise. Jenn was probably kicking herself for letting that happen, and hanging around only until Matt came out of surgery and she knew all was well. Women like her did that.

  “Garret called and Alex told him about Matt. He said to keep him and Darcy posted.” Luke stared at his hands. “Nick, I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough. Dusty has always been so mild and easygoing. I’ve never seen her spook like that. The cat jumped out of the tree and the next thing I knew, Dusty reared.”

  “Accidents happen.” It was hard to force the words out. He hadn’t wanted Matt to go to California with Luke in case something happened and he was too far away to get to his son, but it just proved things like this could happen anywhere, at any moment.

  The truth overwhelmed him. He’d felt like a failure before, but now…When was he going to face the truth? No matter what he did, no matter how successful he was in business, he didn’t measure up. Because he wasn’t Tulane material. Tulanes did better. They were well above average. This just proved his father had been right.

  “Nick?”

  He turned to see Ethan in the waiting room’s doorway. Ignoring the rest of them, Nick raced forward. “How is he?”

  Chapter 17

  MATT’S IN RECOVERY. The break was a bad one, but with physical therapy Matt should be just fine,” Ethan informed Nick.

  His knees felt weak.

  “Thank goodness.” Jenn’s arm slid around his waist and held him tight. Despite what they’d have to go through the next time they talked, Nick welcomed the comfort now, pulling her close and breathing in the sweet scent that was hers alone. Eyes shut, he sent up a prayer of thanks.

  “When can we see hi
m?” Marilyn asked.

  “Tomorrow would be best. He won’t really come to until then. The surgeon had to do some digging for bone fragments and Matt will be in less pain if we keep him under for a while. Nick, come with me and I’ll let you see him before you go home.”

  “I’m staying.”

  “No, you’re not. I’m on duty all night. I’ll keep a close eye on him. There’s no sense in you spending the night out here in the waiting room.”

  “Why can’t I stay in the room with him?”

  Ethan frowned. “Don’t be alarmed by what I’m going to say. With any surgery there is a risk of blood clots, so since there was an open bed in ICU I asked that Matt be put there. He’ll be monitored more closely that way. Hospital policy states no overnight visitors in ICU, however. Not even for children.”

  ICU? Was something going on that Ethan wasn’t telling Nick? What if Matt woke up and he wasn’t there?

  “ICU is a good precaution,” his father murmured. “He’ll be fine.”

  His mother took his hand and squeezed. “Nick, you’re going to have a lot to deal with when Matt wakes up and can’t move around. Children aren’t known to be patient patients.”

  “You’ve got that right,” Ethan confirmed. “Come on. I’ll take you back for a short visit, and then Jenn can take you home to get some rest.”

  “I’ll wait here for you.”

  Jenn released him and took a step away as though she hadn’t been aware he’d held her in his arms the entire time. “Thanks.”

  “Nick?” Tears brightened his mother’s eyes, and as they overflowed she rushed forward and brought his face down to hers with her hands. “Will you give him a hug and kiss from me?” She kissed his cheek, gave him a quick hug and then stepped back, dashing away the tears with her fingertips.

  “Uh…sure.”

  “Ethan, keep me apprised of the situation.” His father waited for Ethan to nod before he looked at Nick, an intense expression on his face. “We’ll be back tomorrow to visit with you both. Go get some rest, son.”

  It was as much a declaration of love as he’d gotten from his father since he was a kid. Nick nodded.

  Ethan led the way to the ICU unit. Nick’s throat grew tight when he saw Matt connected up to an IV, with an oxygen tube clipped to his nose. Matt’s leg was wrapped from his toes to above his knee and suspended from a metal prop at the end of the bed.

  “He’s going to be fine. Dr. Potter did an excellent job, and other than a scar I doubt Matt will have any long-term after-effects.”

  Thank God. Nick leaned over the bed and ran his hand through Matt’s soft hair. Matt hated the cowlick that made him look as if he had a curl on his forehead. Nick smoothed his fingers over the swirl, pushing it to the side because he knew Matt would want him to. He was growing up so fast. He needed a mother’s touch, someone to soften the edges and teach him manners so that Matt would learn that farting and burping weren’t the best ways to win a girl’s heart.

  Leaning against the cold bed rail, Nick stared down at him and listened for every beep of his heart on the monitor overhead. Jenn was waiting outside, but Nick didn’t know how to face her. Now that the day was over.

  Now that they were over.

  NICK WAS SO QUIET on the drive home that Jenn began to worry. He hadn’t eaten all day—he’d been too worried about Matt to have an appetite. Her? She’d had to eat something to fend off her frustration so she’d munched on carrot sticks she’d found in the cafeteria. That just showed how much she wanted to change her unhealthy ways. What else could’ve turned her cravings for junk food into a veggie fest? Being with Nick made her want to be healthy, thinner, but more importantly it now made her realize that as perfect as Nick seemed, he wasn’t.

  Is anyone perfect?

  Was she really only just figuring that out? Why not like herself, be herself? Love who she was as an individual. She wasn’t a saint, but she wasn’t a bad person, either. She had good qualities. Worthwhile qualities. Sighing deeply, she turned Nick’s truck down the quiet street that led to her house.

  “Come home with me.”

  Jenn slowed her driving at his words, the first he’d uttered since they’d left the hospital.

  “Stop and get a bag. I don’t…” He shook his head. “I can’t go home by myself and know he’s not there. I can’t stay here, because it’ll stir up too much gossip for you if I’m here again. Just stay one more night—like last night. Nothing else.”

  One more night. He was setting a limit to their relationship. Probably smart, since she was already in over her head. But he had a point about being discreet. The gossips were probably having a field day already, and she had to consider what her students and their parents might think. Set an example.

  Jenn pulled into her drive, her heart absolutely racing. Just one more night. Unable to deny herself, she put the truck in Park. “Give me five minutes.”

  Ten minutes later she drove around the alley behind the gym and garage and parked. Nick just sat there and stared.

  But as much as Jenn wanted to stay and be with him, they had to talk about what happened today at the hospital. “We have to talk, Nick.”

  His mouth tightened into a flat line. “I don’t want to talk.”

  “I do. I insist, actually.”

  “Then maybe it would be best if you—”

  “Let me rephrase that,” she said, unwilling to let him off so easily and yet surprised by her boldness. “I’m coming up with you to talk about what happened today. As a friend—your friend. After we talk, we can decide if I stay.”

  No way was he going to give her the brush-off now. It might have been a split-second moment of weakness that had prompted him to ask her, but now she was there and she was staying until she had answers.

  Without a word, Nick opened the passenger door. Jenn climbed out the driver’s side of the big Dodge, grabbed her tote bag, just in case, and followed him in. She led the way up the back stairs, wondering how things could have changed so much in twenty-four hours.

  How could she bring it up? I noticed you were having some trouble reading back there. Been doing that long?

  Yeah, that wasn’t going to go over too well. Maybe he would raise the subject?

  They entered the dark apartment and Jenn was glad when Nick ignored the lights. Sometimes it was easier to talk that way. Just like dancing. If you couldn’t see it, maybe it wasn’t so bad. This was bad, though. She knew it, sensed it in his behavior. And there was just enough moonlight streaming in at the edges of the curtains to show her that truth on his face.

  “Nick, whatever you say stays between us.”

  He made eye contact, his jaw working as if he were grinding his teeth. He turned away and paced the floor like a caged animal. “It’s my fault.”

  “What is?” She followed him into the living room, needing him to spell out whatever it was.

  “The trouble Matt’s having in school.”

  He stopped in front of the pictures on a wall near the hall leading to the bedrooms. School photos of Matt from kindergarten through third grade hung in black frames along with snapshots of Matt and Nick together. Fishing, at a football game. Guy stuff that dads did with their sons.

  “Tell me why you think it’s your fault. Is it about the papers today?”

  Nick shot her a glare over his shoulder before turning back to the wall, a child being punished for bad behavior. “Dixon would…”

  “Todd has nothing to do with this. Neither does your family. I already told you, what you say stays between us.”

  Nick ran a hand through his hair, down his neck. “You know I dropped out of high school, but…you don’t know why.”

  “I assumed it was because you had trouble.”

  A raw laugh burst from his chest. “Yeah, I definitely had some trouble. The same trouble as Matt. I can’t…”

  Her fears were confirmed. Nick’s shoulders were lined, his back tense, and she searched for the right words to see her through without blowing
everything. “Can’t?”

  Nick swore again, his head hanging low, nearly touching the frames in front of him. His hand fisted and hit the wall hard enough to make the frames clatter. “Don’t make me say it.”

  “It sounds as though you need to.”

  “What I need…” He hit the wall two more times before dropping his forehead to his fist. “I don’t need to be admitting this. Especially not to you.”

  Nick turned and pierced her with a glare. How many times had Matt worn the same expression? A combination of anger and pain and frustration. “I know what it’s like, Nick.”

  “A brainiac like you? I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, so that’s how it is, huh? You think it was easy admitting to one of the most gorgeous men in Beauty that I have a problem overeating? That for way too long my best friend was a tub of Chunky Monkey? That in less than two years I’ve outgrown two sizes of clothes?”

  “The weight isn’t who you are—it’s a product of what happened to you. You’ve gotten control of that now. This isn’t as easy. It’s not something I can get over. It’s me.”

  “It’s me, too. You’re not getting it. And I’ll never be completely over it, Nick, because with my body shape it will always be a battle. I doubt there will ever be a bad day when I don’t hear the things my father and sister said to me. How many times have you told me that the key is to move on? That if I let them get the best of me, they win?”

  “You can’t compare the two.”

  “Why not?”

  “That’s not the same. I can’t read.”

  His voice was low, so pained, she barely heard him.

  “This isn’t about willpower or bad habits. You think I don’t want to help my son? You don’t think it kills me having to sit there and listen to him, when I want to help him, but I can’t because I don’t read much better? All it says to me is that I’m the loser my father and the rest of my family think I am.”

  “But you’re not. No, you’re not. Do you think Matt’s a loser?”

  “Don’t try to psychobabble me.”