The Next Mrs. Blackthorne (Bitter Creek Book 6) by Joan Johnston Page A

marry you, even if they’re holding a gun to your head,” Kate said wryly.
    Jack laughed and said, “I can’t tell you what a comfort that is.”
    Kate laughed with him and realized that she liked him far more than she should, considering the fact that he was only a pawn in a game they were playing. “Where do we start?” she asked.
    “I think I should take you home,” he said.
    “I can walk,” Kate said. “It’s not far.”
    “We can walk together,” he said as he rose.
    “The sooner I call my mother with the bad news, the better,” Kate said as Jack helped her to her feet, took her book bag from her and put it on his shoulder.
    “Do you want me to be there when you do?” he asked.
    “That’s not a bad idea,” Kate said. “You can introduce yourself, so she’ll know I’m not making this up. After all, it’s pretty amazing, when you think about it. Me with someone like you.”
    The flush was back on Jack’s cheekbones, and Kate wanted to tell him that she hadn’t meant someone dishonest and scandalous. She’d meant someone so much older —and handsome and charming and successful. But she knew if she tried to explain herself, she would only make it worse, so she held her tongue.
    Kate was living at the Westgate, a condominium situated across the street from the imposing domed state capitol building, not far from the Longhorn Grille. The conversation between them was so easy, the walk felt surprisingly short. She wondered if Jack was trying to charm her, or whether it just came naturally.
    “This is my place,” she said as she unlocked the door and let him into her fifth floor apartment. Her father was footing the bill, or she never would have been able to afford it, but it was furnished with secondhand furniture she’d bought herself.
    Kate loved everything about the West, and her decor showed it. A leather couch. An ancient wooden rocker. A cowhide rug. A standing lamp that had been fashioned from a wooden hanes, the horse collar used to pull a wagon.
    The door made a solid thunk sound when Jack closed it behind him. Kate suddenly felt nervous, way out of her depth. Which was silly, because it was pretty obvious that a man who felt like spending time with her was “baby-sitting” wasn’t likely to have designs on her person.
    “Would you like something to drink?” she asked. The sun had been warm on their backs during their walk.
    “Iced tea if you’ve got it,” he said. “Otherwise, water will be fine.”
    Kate made herself busy in the kitchen, watching from the corner of her eye as Jack toured her living room, picking up various objects and inspecting them and putting them back down.
    “Nice antlers,” he said, as he inspected half of a five-point rack of deer antlers that decorated her coffee table.
    “I found them when I was hiking on North’s ranch,” she said, as she crossed and handed him a glass of iced tea.
    She held up her own glass and said, “Here’s to marriage. My parents’ marriage,” she quickly corrected.
    “I’ll drink to that,” Jack said, clinking his glass against hers. “You ready to make that call?”
    “Not really,” Kate said. “But I guess it has to be done.” She didn’t like deceiving her parents, but she was doing this for their own good. This wasn’t as crazy as some of the stunts she’d suggested to Uncle North in the barn a couple of weeks ago. But it was close.
    “Hi, Mom,” she said, looking into Jack’s dark eyes as she made contact with her mother. “I’m fine,” she said. “I have some news.”
    Jack stepped close enough that she could smell some faint scent of piney male cologne, while she held her cell phone a little away from her ear so he could hear the other side of the conversation.
    “Good news, I hope,” her mother said.
    “Wonderful news!” Kate said, her eyes once more locked with Jack’s. “I have a new boyfriend.”
    “That is wonderful news,” her mother said. “Tell me about him.”
    “It’s Jack