Joan Johnston - Shattered

The world believed her husband was dead, but Kate knew J.D. was alive. How could she get a divorce from a man who was legally dead? And it took seven years after his “disappearance” to have J.D. declared dead—again.

But he’d bought a ring, anyway. He’d planned to go down on one knee tonight and propose to her.

Instead, he had to confess to Kate that while she’d been in a coma, he’d gone to bed with his wife. And gotten her pregnant.

That wasn’t the worst of it.

Holly had made demands of her own before she would agree to postpone their divorce until the child was born.

“I’ll stay married to you on one condition,” she’d said.

“You’re in no position to make conditions,” he’d shot back.

“You have to live with me and Ryan until the baby is born.”

He’d been so stunned that for a moment he hadn’t been able to speak. Fury had quickly followed. “Why are you jerking me around, Holly? You’re the one who asked for the divorce. You’re the one who kicked me out on my ass. And you’re the one who pointed out that all we ever do anymore is fight. Why in hell would you want us to live together for the next four months?”

“I want us to use this time to mend what was broken between us.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Jack was pretty sure they couldn’t mend what was broken between them if they lived together for the next forty years.

“I want us to become friends again,” she explained, her leaf-green gaze focused on his.

He’d always been a sucker for that pleading look, and she knew it. But he wasn’t about to let her manipulate him. “Why make this any harder than it is?”

In a soft, throaty voice that he couldn’t remember hearing Holly use in recent memory, she said, “We were best friends once, Jack.”

“That was a long time ago,” he replied, his voice harsh. “We can’t go back, Holly. What would be the point?”

“The point is, we’re going to have two children who’ll need us to be able to talk without arguing,” she said reasonably. “Two children who’ll need us to be friends in order to make custody arrangements without hurting them or each other.”

He hated to admit it, but she was right. Over the past year, every discussion they’d had about Ryan had been laced with animosity on her part and resentment on his. But there was a sticking point that made what she suggested impossible for him.

“I’m not giving up my job.”

“You won’t have to do that,” Holly said. “I’ve accepted a position at M.D. Anderson in Houston. I’ll be doing research at the Children’s Cancer Hospital on a grant through the end of my pregnancy. All you’d need to do is ask for a transfer across the state.”

He could hardly believe his ears. “When did all this happen?”

“I’ve been working on it for a couple of months.”

“You were intending to come back to Texas and you never told me?” He was angry again.

“It wasn’t any of your business.”

“My son’s whereabouts isn’t my business?”

She flushed and her green eyes sparked with anger equal to his own. “I know about you and Kate Pendleton. I didn’t want to come back to Texas until the divorce was final. It would have been humiliating to have my colleagues know my husband was involved with another woman, especially someone as high-profile as the governor’s daughter-in-law.”

He could see her point. Again. “How soon do you want to do this?”

“I’ve already rented a house near M.D. Anderson. Ryan and I will be moving there over the weekend.”

“This weekend?” he’d asked incredulously.

“The furniture’s being delivered Saturday morning. So, do you think you can get a transfer?”

His undercover assignment was located in Houston. He was investigating a businessman there. “That won’t be a problem.”

“When can we expect you to join us?”

“I can be there Saturday morning. Do you want help moving?”

He saw the astonishment on her face. She hadn’t been expecting him to manage a transfer so soon. Or maybe not at all? Had this all been another trick?

“That would be a big help,” she said. “I won’t tell Ryan you’re coming until you show up. It can be a nice surprise.”

Was she hoping he wouldn’t show up? “What are we going to tell him? He’s going to think we’re getting back together.”

“We can worry about that after the baby is born.”

And that was that.

Jack was distracted from his thoughts when Kate stuck her head out her front door and asked, “Are you all right?”

He shoved his way out of the SUV and headed down the sidewalk. “I’m fine.” As he closed the distance between them he said, “I have some news I need to share.”

He was surprised when her smile of welcome disappeared and she replied, “I have some news, too.”

Kate wanted Jack’s arms around her. She’d been seriously rattled by Wyatt Shaw’s visit. She’d realized she would never get to the twins’ elementary school before class let out for the day, so she’d called a friend who lived near the school and asked her to pick up Lucky and Chance. Her friend had called to let Kate know she had the boys in hand, so at least Shaw hadn’t intercepted them before they got on the bus. The boys were going to stay at their friend’s house and play for a while before her friend brought them home.

Then she’d paced the floor, waiting for Jack to arrive.

Jack represented comfort. And security. He arrived at her front door dressed like the lawman he was in the only “uniform” the Texas Rangers wore: a crisp, long-sleeved white western shirt with, in Jack’s case, a bolo tie with a silver clasp, Wrangler jeans, a western hat and cowboy boots.

As he stepped inside, he set his gray felt Stetson on a nearby table with the crown down. As soon as he did, she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

He shoved the SIG Sauer P226 in a slide holster on his belt out of the way. But she could feel the cold imprint of the Texas Ranger badge, a star within a circle stamped out of a silver Mexican cinco peso coin which he wore over his left breast pocket, against her cheek.

She waited anxiously for his arms to close around her. Finally they did. But it wasn’t enough to quiet her fears.

“Hold me tighter, Jack.”

His grip tightened at last, but only for a moment, just long enough for her to hear that his heart was thumping surprisingly fast. Then he grasped her shoulders and pushed her away.

Kate raised her face, thinking Jack wanted to kiss her. She was confused by the anxious look in his dark brown eyes. For a moment, it seemed he wouldn’t kiss her. And then he did.

Kate welcomed the passionate meeting of tongues and caught fire as Jack yanked at the buttons on her cotton blouse. He shoved a hand inside her blouse, then inside her bra, and palmed the naked weight of her breast. He used his other hand to press her hips tight against his erection.

The abrasive brush of his callused thumb caused her nipples to peak. His tongue mimicked the sex act, withdrawing, then seeking honey again.

Kate shoved her hands up around Jack’s neck and into his hair, raising herself on tiptoe so their bodies would fit better, feeling the hot, hard length of him through the layers of denim they both wore. He wasn’t nearly close enough. She wanted him inside her.

Her hand shoved its way back down between them. She traced the shape of him, the length of him, the heat of him, and heard the guttural groan that told her he liked what she was doing.

Which made it all the more shocking when he tore his mouth from hers, yanked his hand out of her bra and grabbed her shoulders with both hands. He held her at arm’s length, his eyes tortured, his lungs heaving.