Joan Johnston - Shattered

Kate could feel Jack’s body trembling with need. Felt her own knees buckling, as nature did its best to get her supine to procreate. “Jack?” she gasped.

“We have to stop. We can’t do this.”

“Why not? I love you.” It was the first time she’d said the words. “And I know you love me.” He’d told her so in the days before she’d been shot. He’d proved it by coming to the hospital every day while she was in a coma, and by taking care of her sons when her mother-in-law might have seized the opportunity to steal her children away.

Jack closed his eyes. His jaw worked as though he were fighting some great emotion. “Oh God, Kate.”

When he opened his eyes at last, there was a hopeless look in them that made her breath catch. Kate could think of only one reason why Jack wouldn’t want to make love. She looked earnestly up at him and sought the words that would ease his troubled mind.

“It’s okay, Jack. I know we can’t get married right away, maybe not for a long time.” J.D. might never be caught.

“But being shot, being in a coma, has taught me that none of us knows how long we have in this world. My heart is yours, Jack. I think it has been for a very long time. I want to make love to you. With you.”

Jack made a low, growling sound in his throat, but he kept her at arm’s length.

“We’ve waited long enough,” she said. “I want to start our lives together now. We can worry about J.D. when—or if—he ever shows up again.”

Kate tried to reach out and touch Jack, but his grip tightened painfully. “Ow. Jack, you’re hurting me.”

He let go of her abruptly and took a quick step back. When Kate reached out again, he put his hands up and snapped, “No. Don’t touch me.”

Kate recoiled. “What’s wrong?”

He shoved a hand through his sun-streaked chestnut hair and looked down and away.

Kate recognized the move. J.D. had done it often enough. That was guilt. But guilt about what?

Jack stalked past her to the wet bar on the far side of the living room. He found a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, poured himself a stiff drink and gulped it down in two swallows.

Kate watched him warily, stunned by his rejection. All she could think was that something had changed while she was in a coma. That he didn’t love her anymore. That he’d kept on watching over her sons because he’d felt an obligation to do so. He’d gotten carried away by the kissing and touching, but he wasn’t interested in anything permanent. Which explained why he’d seemed so upset by her profession of love.

“Have you changed your mind about loving me, Jack?” she asked, struggling to keep her chin from quivering.

“No!” His voice was loud. Harsh. As guttural as his groan of pleasure or his growl of guilt.

“Then why did you stop? Don’t you want to make love to me?”

“My balls ache, I want you so bad,” he said through gritted teeth. “I love you. I want to marry you.”

Kate shook her head in bafflement. “Then why—”

“Holly’s pregnant.”

It took Kate a moment to process what Jack had said. She was trying to figure out what Holly’s pregnancy had to do with Jack not making love to her. And realized what he hadn’t said.

“It’s your baby.”

Jack didn’t bother to confirm what she’d said. He just stood there looking sick at heart.

“When…? How soon…?”

“She got pregnant over Thanksgiving,” he said. “The baby’s due in mid-August.”

Kate felt the heat grow in her cheeks. While she’d been in a coma, Jack had been having sex with his wife.

“I’m sorry, Kate.”

“For what?” she snapped. “Holly’s your wife. She is still your wife, right?”

“She is. But—”

“Does this mean you’ve reconciled? That you’re not getting a divorce?”

“It was an accident,” Jack blurted.

Kate laughed. It wasn’t a nice sound.

“We were arguing and…” He rubbed a hand across his nape. “Aw, hell. That’s how Holly and I settled every argument we ever had during our marriage. It was just…habit.”

“You didn’t take any precautions?”

“She’s forty-one. Neither of us thought she could get pregnant because she’s been… What’s it called?”

“Menopausal?”

“Yeah. She started missing periods and said that was the end of kids for us. So I didn’t think—”

“That’s the understatement of the year,” Kate muttered.

“Look, neither Holly nor I planned for her to get pregnant. It just happened. And now that it has…”

He paused again, and Kate waited to hear the death knell to her dreams of a life with Jack. “And now?”

“I don’t want my child born a bastard.”

Kate’s breath soughed out of her. “I see.”

He didn’t explain further. He didn’t need to. She could see where he was headed.

“I presume that means you’re not getting a divorce.”

“We’re still getting divorced. We’re just not going to sign the papers until after the baby’s born in August,” Jack qualified.

“What if I’m willing to have you live here and make love to me while you’re still, technically, married to Holly?”

He was already shaking his head. “I can’t do that, Kate.”

“Why not?”

“Holly set conditions on us staying married until the baby is born, one of which is that we live together in Houston for the rest of her pregnancy. She has a job at M.D. Anderson.”

Kate felt dizzy. “You’re moving to Houston? To live with Holly?”

“And Ryan.”

Kate felt an awful ache in her chest, felt her eyes brim with sudden tears, as though someone she loved had just died. She fought the sorrow with anger. “Why would Holly want you to live with her? She’s the one who asked for the divorce!”

“She wants to use these few months together to work out some of our differences, so we can be friends again.”

“Friends?” Kate snorted the word as though it was an epithet.

“Holly and I won’t be sleeping together, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Kate moaned and swayed. She covered her face with her hands and fought back a sob.

Jack crossed the room in three strides and gathered her in his arms. His cheek was pressed close to hers and his voice was gruff as he said, “This is just a hiccup, sweetheart. We’ll be together soon. But I have to do this.”

Kate opened her mouth to tell Jack about the threat she faced from Wyatt Shaw and closed it again without speaking. It would tear Jack in two if he thought she was in trouble and needed him while he was stuck living with his wife in Houston.

“When do you leave?”

“Tonight. I’m helping Holly move in tomorrow.”

Kate startled herself when she burst into tears.

“Honey, sweetheart, please don’t cry,” Jack crooned.

Kate felt him kiss her closed eyes, felt him kiss away the hot tears on her cheeks.

He put a finger under her chin and tipped her face up. “Look at me, Kate.”

He waited patiently until she opened her eyes.

She looked up at Jack through a veil of tears. “It’s not fair, Jack. It’s like fate is conspiring against us.”

“Our day will come, Kate. Sooner than you think.”

But Kate wasn’t so sure. What if Jack fell back in love with his wife? And she’d been counting on Jack to be a buffer between her and Wyatt Shaw.

She swallowed over the painful knot of sorrow—and fear—in her throat and said, “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Hey,” Jack said, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “It won’t be so bad. We can talk on the phone every day, and I can visit sometimes on weekends. We have the Internet and texting. If you love me as much as I love you, we can get through this together.”