Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(81)

She swallowed painfully. She was going to confess that she’d misled him—and everyone in the knitting class—about her f iancé. She should never have let the pretence go on for this long. But when she was with Hutch there were so many other things to talk about. Still, he’d recently commented on the fact that she didn’t have any pictures of her f iancé around the condo. For a moment his remark had jarred her, until she remembered that he thought Clark was dead.

She trusted that he’d forgive her this foolish deception, which had taken on a life, a momentum, of its own. She also hoped that after tonight’s confession, he’d feel free to share his worries over this lawsuit. In her opinion, the entire matter was frivolous, a waste of time. But whenever she’d asked him about it, Hutch had brushed aside her questions and said his attorney was handling it. He always added that he wasn’t really worried. Only he was. That seemed very clear tonight.

Once they were at her condo, she put away her yarn purchase, ground fresh beans and made a small pot of coffee, just enough for two cups.

She joined Hutch in the living room and handed him his mug.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she began softly. Hutch stiffened, almost as if he knew what was coming—

although he couldn’t possibly. “Okay,” he said. “Is it serious?”

She nodded. “I’ve been lying to you.”

Hutch carefully set his mug on the low table beside him. “I’d rather deal with the truth now than later.”

She took a sip of her coffee, then glanced down. “When I signed up for the knitting class, I told everyone I was engaged and that my f iancé died.”

“So he’s not dead?” Hutch frowned and anxiety f lared in his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re married.”

Despite her nervousness, she smiled. “No, he’s not dead and I’m not married. It’s nothing like that.”

His shoulders slumped with relief.

“I was engaged and in love with a man who…” She paused, f inding it diff icult to continue. “I broke off the engagement two months ago, when I discovered he’d been arrested for solicitation.”

Hutch pressed his hand over hers. He didn’t say anything.

“It happened before this, too. I took him back the f irst time…”

“The f irst time you knew about,” he commented.

“Exactly. I have to suspect there were other instances.”

“Oh, Phoebe.”

“He managed to convince me it would never happen again, and I believed him.” She didn’t mention the pressure she was under from both Clark’s family and her own to forgive and forget.

“I’m sorry.”

She licked her lips, which felt dry and cracked. “I did what I had to do, ended the engagement, and although it was painful I don’t regret it, not for a second.” Telling Hutch about Clark’s most recent attempt to get her to take him back would only upset him. Phoebe decided to say nothing.

“So when you enrolled in the Knit to Quit class, it was because you were trying to stop loving your f iancé?”

Lowering her head, Phoebe nodded.

“Has it helped?”

She looked up at him and grinned. “More than you’ll ever know. I was crushed, devastated, humiliated, angry. I realize now that while I did love Clark, his actions killed all the feelings I had for him.”

Hutch brought her close and touched his forehead to hers.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“I couldn’t lie to you any longer.”

He kissed the tip of her nose, lightly, tenderly, in a way she’d come to adore. His gentleness stirred her more than a dozen passionate caresses. Slipping her arms around his neck, she raised her mouth to his and they kissed for a long time, each kiss connecting them on a deeper level. She leaned against his shoulder, her head spinning with desire. Hutch’s breathing was ragged. They sat like that, satiated and at peace, for a while.

“Tell me about the lawsuit,” she f inally said. Hutch exhaled. “There isn’t much to tell.”

“You’re worried, though.”

“I am. My attorney’s agreed to f ight it but he’d prefer that I settled out of court. I refuse to do that. It would be like an admission of guilt. However, my attorney feels I’m taking a terrible risk letting this case go to trial.” Hutch was silent for a moment. “The suit’s raised a lot of interest nationwide. If I lose, it opens the door for other people to sue the larger companies, claiming chocolate is addictive. And what about alcoholics suing wineries? Or prescription-drug abusers blaming the pharmaceuticals? You see what I mean. There’s a lot more at stake than meets the eye.”

“Is it worth all this angst?” she asked, siding with his attorney. In this particular instance it might be best to simply pay off this idiotic woman and be done with it.

“I don’t know,” he admitted with some reluctance. “I turned down their f irst settlement offer. I can’t see handing over such a large chunk of cash just to make this go away. When my attorney suggested we might be willing to settle, the plaintiff came back with an even higher demand.”

“Greed does nasty things to a person.”

“No kidding. Besides, who’s to say I won’t be sued again next week, next month, next year? It’s dangerous either way. I’d rather confront this head-on and have it dealt with once and for all.”