Joan Kilby - How To Trap a Parent

“You need to at least pretend to like me in public. For our daughter’s sake.”

Like a splash of cold water, she realised the old days were truly gone. Cole had zero interest in her except as Mary Kate’s mother.

“We have a child together,” he said. “I don’t want us to be enemies.”

“Given our past, I don’t see how we can be friends,” she said stiffly. “Our relationship has to be strictly business.”

His jaw tightened. “Business it is.”

Even though she was pushing him away as hard as she could, deep inside a tiny piece of Jane’s heart chipped.

Which was odd, because she hadn’t thought there was anything left to break.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

When Joan Kilby isn’t working on her next romance novel, she can often be found sipping a latte at a pavement café and indulging in her favorite pastime of people watching. Originally from Vancouver, Canada, she now lives in Australia with her husband and three children. She enjoys cooking as a creative outlet and gets some of her best story ideas while watching her Jack Russell terrier chase waves at the beach.

Dear Reader,

Teenage pregnancy seems to keep cropping up in my books in one form or another. I think that’s because the conflict is inbuilt. Having a baby can be the most joyous experience in a woman’s life, but if you’re young, without money, a job or a life partner, you’re bound to have a few worries. If you’re ambitious like Jane, the heroine in How To Trap a Parent , you have to work out your priorities early on.

We hardly ever consider the boy’s role or feelings. My hero, Cole, fathered not one but two babies to different girls when he was a teenager. Talk about anxiety! He married one girl out of duty, lost the one he loved and missed out on a daughter’s early years.

This book is about a lot of things – family, home, vineyards, horses, daughters and sisters, thwarted ambitions and dreams fulfilled. But mostly it’s about a love affair that blossoms again after years apart.

I hope you enjoy Jane and Cole’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love to hear from readers. You can e-mail me at www. joankilby. com or write to me at PO Box 234, Point Roberts, WA 9828-0234, Australia.

Joan Kilby

JOAN KILBY

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CHAPTER ONE

JANE LINDEN PARKED her black Mazda in front of Red Hill Real Estate and checked her hair in the visor mirror. Just her luck! The only person in this small rural town who could sell her late aunt’s farm for her was Cole Roberts, the man who’d broken her heart thirteen years ago. Cole wasn’t a bad man; in fact, she’d never known anyone as loyal to his family. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t made her suffer.

Hitching her red leather tote higher on her shoulder, Jane climbed out of the car. Seeing him again would not be a problem. She was over him; him and his green eyes and killer grin. She’d be in and out of Red Hill faster than she could snap her fingers. And he would never know she’d cried herself to sleep for three years because he’d married Leslie Stanwyck instead of her.

All that had happened a long time ago. Jane was a different person, older and wiser. She might not have made a name for herself in Hollywood, but those acting lessons Rafe had given her way back when were finally going to pay off. Bright and breezy, that’s the way she’d play it. Ignore the pain, hide the anger; Cole no longer meant a thing to her. How could he? Thirteen years was way too long to carry a torch.

A bell tinkled as she entered through the glass door of the real estate agency. A small seating area was to her right, reception to her left. The young woman behind the curved desk wore black rectangular glasses and had fine dark hair swept into a ponytail.

Leslie’s little sister. The last time Jane had seen this girl she’d worn pigtails and Bratz T-shirts. Jane pushed her sunglasses up into her hair. “Millie?”

Millie glanced up with a bright smile. “Hi, um… Do I know you?”

“Jane Linden. I went to high school with Leslie.” She glanced past reception to the narrow hall and the private offices. “Is Cole in?”

“I’ll see if he’s available.” Millie reached for the phone.

“He and I are old friends. I’ll surprise him.” Jane hurried past before Millie could stop her. Old friends, indeed. They’d been far more to each other than friends; and in the end, far less.

Through the glass wall of his office she could see Cole working on something at his desk, his brow creased in concentration as he chewed on the end of a pencil. In spite of her pep talk, her heart turned over at the sight of his face, still familiar even though she hadn’t seen him in three years, the time he’d come to L.A. to visit Mary Kate.

Steeling herself, she knocked once and opened the door. “Well, just look at you! All dressed up in a suit and tie behind a big fancy desk. You’re quite the successful businessman.”

Cole started at her voice, his eyebrows lifting as he set aside his pencil and newspaper. He smoothed a hand lightly over his neatly combed dark brown hair. “Jane! I’m surprised to see you back in Red Hill so soon.” He glanced past her eagerly. “Did you bring Mary Kate this time?”

Jane had come alone four weeks earlier to arrange her aunt Esther’s funeral. Mary Kate had stayed in L.A. with friends. She’d had the lead in the classroom concert as well as end-of-term exams.

“She’s at the farmhouse.” Jane’s grip on her tote strap tightened. As the girl’s father, Cole had rights whether she liked it or not. Bright and breezy , she reminded herself and pasted on a smile. “We arrived yesterday. We’re both still jet-lagged so I let Mary Kate stay home.”

“Have a seat,” Cole said. “I’m sorry about your aunt Esther. She was so young.”

“Thanks.” Jane sat stiffly on the edge of the visitor’s chair. “Her heart attack was unexpected.”

“I’m sorry I missed the funeral,” Cole continued formally. “I was closing a deal on a house that afternoon or I would’ve come. I called you the next day but you must have already left.”

“I was only in town a few days,” Jane explained, shifting in her chair. It was hard to be bright when the subject was so sad, hard to be breezy when the conversation was this stilted. “I had work commitments and wanted to be back for Christmas.”

“How long are you in Australia?”

Jane forced herself to relax and sink back into the chair. Her short white skirt slid halfway up her thigh. She saw his gaze drop before he quickly glanced away. She tugged the fabric down. “We’re back for good. Goodbye, L.A., hello, Melbourne. I’ve got a job as a publicist with Moonray Productions. In fact, I’ve hit the ground running, publicizing the premiere of a movie called Swept Away .”

“You mean it?” he said. “You’re back?”

She nodded. “A moving company is packing up my house in Pasadena and shipping everything down here.”