The Next Mrs. Blackthorne (Bitter Creek Book 6) (12 page)

Jack said, “You’re welcome, dear.” He took the coffee and teacups she handed him to the table to serve her mother and father, then returned to Kate’s side at the sink, leaning back against the counter next to her as she stacked dishes in the dishwasher, and asked her father, “How’s the trial going?”

Kate saw her father eye Jack speculatively before he said, “I’d rather talk about something else.”

“‘Bomber Brown’s trial is the biggest news around,” Jack said.

Her father’s eyes narrowed slightly before he said, “I saw in the paper that you’re in a little trouble yourself.”

Jack flushed but said nothing.

“I don’t understand,” Kate’s mother said. “What kind of trouble are you in, Jack?”

“A little disagreement in numbers between me and the IRS, Ms. Grayhawk,” Jack said.

From the corner of her eye, Kate watched her mother melt under Jack’s charming smile. “Please call me Libby,” her mother said. “It must be very perturbing after all these years to have your life still bruited about in the newspaper.”

“It is,” Jack said.

“Where did you grow up, Jack?” Kate’s mother asked.

“I was born and raised in San Antonio, ma’am.”

“Libby,” her mother corrected. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

Kate listened attentively for Jack’s answer, since this was all news to her.

“My older sister died when I was in high school. I have two younger sisters living in San Antonio, not far from my parents.”

“What have you been doing with yourself since you were drummed out of football?” her father asked.

Again, the telltale flush, but no other evidence that Jack found her father’s question offensive. Kate felt offended on his behalf and said, “Jack’s got a really great restaurant in downtown Austin, Daddy, the Longhorn Grille.”

She saw the surprise on her father’s face before he said, “My father’s been trying to get me to meet him at the Grille for dinner. He says you make an exceptional steak Oscar.”

“I’ve got a good—by good I mean expensive—chef,” Jack said. “I made up my mind that if I was going to open a restaurant, it was going to be the best one in Austin. I’m not quite there yet. But I will be.”

Kate leaned over to kiss Jack’s cheek, where it was still flushed, then turned to her father and said, “Jack’s going to be the best husband, too.”

“That remains to be seen,” her father retorted.

“I’m looking forward to watching the trial, Daddy,” Kate said as she closed the dishwasher and turned to slide her arm around Jack’s waist. She was a little surprised, but grateful, when he did the same to her.

“I’ve told you I don’t want you there,” her father replied.

Kate frowned. “I hardly ever get to see you. I thought we’d be able to have lunch together once in a while during your noon recesses.”

Kate watched her father eye Jack’s hand, which had slid up from her waist to a sensitive spot just below her breast, before he said to her, “The plane crash that killed the judge who previously presided over this case was probably the result of sabotage.”

Kate saw her mother’s hand was trembling and watched with wonder and elation as her father reached out to take her hand and comfort her.

“I know you don’t want me in the courtroom,” she said. “But that would mean I’d have to wait until this trial is over to see you. And I’m not willing to do that.”

She watched as her father exchanged an exasperated glance with her mother. “It’s not safe.”

“I’ll be careful, Daddy. I promise. Besides, I’m writing a paper on the effects of violence on governmental limitations on personal freedom and I need to see as much of the trial as I can to do a really good job. And you’re forgetting, I’ll have Jack to look out for me.”

“Somehow that makes me feel more alarmed than reassured,” her father said.

“Daddy!” Kate said, shocked at his rudeness. “Jack is a very responsible person.”

“Who just happened to arouse the scrutiny of the IRS.”

Kate felt mortified for Jack. “Jack just needs to collect some documentation—”

“I don’t need you to defend me, Kate,” Jack interrupted. His dark eyes bored into her father’s as he said, “And I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“Like father, like son,” her father said quietly.

Jack moved so fast he knocked over a glass on the counter behind him, which fell into the sink with a crash of breaking glass. He stood feet widespread, fisted hands clenched at his sides as he said, “I’m
nothing
like my father!”

Her father had moved equally fast, rising from his chair so quickly it clattered to the floor behind him.

Kate grabbed Jack’s arm at almost the same moment she saw her mother take hold of her father’s. “What’s he talking about, Jack?” Kate asked.

She flinched when he jerked himself free. His jaw was clamped and his steady glare never wavered from her father’s face. Kate turned to her father and said, “What are you talking about, Daddy?”

Before her father could speak, Jack said, “My father’s a gambler. He’s addicted to it. Craves it like an alcoholic craves gin, or a drug addict craves crack cocaine. Incapable of stopping. Always making one more bet. Taking one more risk in hopes of finally cashing in. But always losing. Losing everything.”

The kitchen was silent except for the sound of Jack’s raspy breathing. She looked at Jack, her heart in her eyes. How devastating it must have been for him to be forced out of football because of a gambling scandal. Kate suddenly felt sure Jack had never shaved a point in football. Not with his history. Not when it was so obvious how much he hated gambling for what it had done to his father.

Kate sought for some way to break the awful tension in the room and said, “Why don’t we take a walk down to the river. Mom, you and Dad go on ahead. I’ll stay here with Jack just long enough to clear up this broken glass. There should still be plenty of light to see where you’re going.”

Her father turned to her mother and said, “Libby?”

“That sounds lovely.”

Kate stayed between her father and Jack, to be sure there was no chance for them to come to blows, and said, “We’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Her father narrowed his eyes at Jack, but her mother said, “I know the way, Clay,” and led him out of the house and down the dirt path toward the river.

The instant they were out of hearing, Jack turned Kate so she was facing him and said in a harsh voice, “What the hell were you thinking?”

Kate frowned in confusion. “What has you so upset?”

“Your father hates my guts. I can’t believe you asked him—both of them—to spend the night, and then set it up so we have to sleep in the same room.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

Jack snorted. “Right.”

“Anyway, it’s only pretend.”

“Tell me that when we’re alone in the dark in the same bed,” he countered harshly.

She shivered at the dangerous look in his dark eyes. “But—”

She was interrupted by her mother, who yanked open the screen door and said, “I’m sorry, Kate, but I have to leave.”

“But you can’t!” she protested, flummoxed by her mother’s abrupt return.

Her mother met her gaze, blue eyes brimming with unshed tears, and said, “Your father and I—”

Kate felt her stomach clenching as she realized that all her well-laid plans were falling apart. “But, Mom, you and Daddy—”

“Are at loggerheads again,” her mother said with a wan smile, as she stepped inside.

At that moment her father entered the kitchen, his own face dark as a thundercloud. She watched as her mother took a step away from him. Kate was appalled at this evidence that they’d already argued. What had her father said to upset her mother so quickly and so badly?

Then she looked at her father’s strained face and realized he was as distressed by whatever had been said as her mother was. “I need to get back to Austin,” he said in a tight voice. “We won’t be able—”

“No!” Kate interrupted in a panicked voice. “I’m not going to let you go, Daddy. Or you, either, Mom. I hardly see either one of you, and I was looking forward to all of us going riding tomorrow morning. You have to stay!”

She knew her parents loved her, even if they couldn’t comfortably spend time together. She saw the guilt that flashed in her father’s eyes, and the empathy and pain in her mother’s. She watched as they exchanged a glance of mutual consternation.

“May I add my own encouragement that you stay?” Jack said. “Kate has been so excited to see you. I very selfishly want to make her happy.”

Kate felt her jaw drop at Jack’s short speech and quickly closed her mouth. She turned back to her parents to see what effect his plea might have.

It was her mother who gave in first. She tried to smile, failed, then tried again and succeeded. “It will be nice to ride together again.”

Kate shifted her gaze to her father, whose lips were pressed in a flat line. She didn’t beg. Grayhawks didn’t beg. Besides, Blackthornes had no mercy.

But what she felt must have been plain in her eyes, because her father’s mouth twisted wryly before he said, “I haven’t been on a horse in a while.”

Kate grinned, realizing her father had agreed to stay. “I’ll make sure you get a gentle mount,” she said.

Her father snorted, and she laughed. Her parents were both excellent riders. In fact, they’d met on horseback. She was hoping this ride would remind them of that long-ago day. And of their long-ago feelings.

“I’ve had an exhausting day traveling,” her mother said. “I hope you won’t mind if I retire early.”

“No problem, Mom,” Kate said. “I can loan you something to sleep in. Jack, maybe you can find something for Daddy—”

“I’ll be fine,” her father said, the scowl back on his face as he looked at Jack. “I brought some work with me. It’s in the car. I’ll go get it.”

By the time Kate returned from getting her mother settled, her father had closed himself inside the second bedroom. She looked around for Jack and found him standing at the screen door.

“I think we’d better take that walk,” he said soberly.

Kate realized he wanted to argue, and that he didn’t want her parents to hear. She wasn’t about to give him the chance to yell at her. “I’m tired, too,” she said. “I think I’ll go to bed.”

To her dismay, he followed close on her heels. She could feel his masculine presence, the heat of him at her back. The moment she was inside the master bedroom, he closed the door behind her.

She turned to face him, trembling with some emotion she couldn’t name. But she wasn’t about to cower. Grayhawks weren’t afraid of anyone. She crossed her arms over her chest in defiance and said, “You’re going to ruin everything if you start yelling at me.”

“I have no intention of arguing with you,” Jack said.

She watched, appalled, as he unsnapped his cuffs, and with a single yank, unsnapped his western shirt and tugged it out of his jeans. He wasn’t wearing an undershirt, exposing a broad chest covered with dark curls. She quivered at the rattle of his belt being unbuckled and heard the slide of leather as he pulled it free.

When he reached for the button of his jeans, she turned her back abruptly. “You could at least respect my modesty.”

“You’re the one who set this up. What did you expect me to do?”

“You could sleep in your clothes.”

He snorted in disgust. “I should never have agreed to baby-sit—”

She whirled on him, incensed at his dismissal of her and stopped short as she realized she could see his white briefs in the V where his jeans had been unzipped. She forced her eyes to his face and said fiercely—but softly, “I’m not a kid!”

“Get undressed and get in the damned bed,” he said.

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“On the floor.”

“That’s not necessary,” she said, eyeing the king-size bed. “There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

“We’re not married. We’re not engaged. Hell, I don’t even like you. I went along with this ridiculous scheme because—” He cut himself off, and Kate wondered what he’d stopped himself from saying. He looked at her, his mouth a thin, disgusted line, and said, “I’ll be damned if I get tricked into marriage by some spoiled brat.”

She was toe-to-toe with him a moment later, keeping her voice down, but surprisingly hurt and furiously angry. “Don’t worry! I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man in the universe. I can’t believe I asked you to help me get my parents together. You can have the bed.
I’ll
take the floor! I wouldn’t want you to lose any sleep!”

“A gentleman doesn’t—”

“I’m no lady, remember? Just a kid.”

“I never—”

Kate blinked back the tears that were blurring her vision. She wasn’t about to cry and confirm his belief that she was a child. She’d show him! She was nineteen. And a woman.

She reached for the buttons on her shirt.

“What are you doing?” Jack said.

“Getting undressed.” She waited for him to say something, anything, that would give her an idea what he was thinking. But he remained silent as she unbuttoned her tailored white shirt, pulled it from her jeans and let it slide down her shoulders onto the floor. She didn’t bother turning her back. She simply reached for the button on her jeans—she wasn’t wearing a belt—and began to unzip them.