Shattered. Joan Johnston

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      4

      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.

      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 СКАЧАТЬ