Her Secret, His Child

town and has to host some honor society gathering. I said I'd help him."

Karen stared at her. "You are interested in him."

Shaking her head, Jamie joined her at the counter, took up a knife and started chopping vegetables for the soup Karen had started. "Not in the way you mean, I'm not," she said. Absolutely certain on that count. Even if she were interested, there was no point. "But he's kind of endearing, in a friends sort of way, and seems to be completely hopeless when it comes to ordinary, everyday things." Jamie smiled, thinking of his cardboard-box furniture. "He asked if I'd help, since I'm about the only person he knows except for his students and Dean Patterson. I didn't have the heart to refuse."

In actuality, Jamie had seen the party as just the opportunity she needed to get to know Kyle, to determine he

r next course of action. The right course of action. Whatever that might be.

"Is he interested in you?" Karen dumped a bowl of sliced potatoes into a dutch oven.

"It doesn't matter if he is. I'm not going out with him." Jamie was adamant.

Karen stopped, a cup of diced onions suspended over the pan. "I don't see why not," she said, her tone exasperated. "In all the years I've known you, you've never had a date." She continued to pin Jamie with her gaze. "You're young, beautiful, a great person. It's not natural for you to be alone."

The knife in Jamie's hand slipped, slicing the tip of her finger instead of the carrot she'd been aiming

HER SECRET, HIS CHILD

for. "I'm not alone," she said, her injured finger in her mouth. "I have Ash."

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-

TARA TAYLOR QUINN

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

HER SECRET, HIS CHILD

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.