A Family Kind of Wedding
Read A Family Kind of Wedding Online
Authors: Lisa Jackson
From #1
New York Times
bestselling author Lisa Jackson comes the engrossing final book in the reader-favorite
Forever Family
series set in Bittersweet, Oregon
Katie Kinkaid knows what comes of following your heart; she did that once and ended up pregnant and unwed. So a mysterious bachelorâan undeniably attractive oneâmoving in next door isn't a complication she needs.
Still, Luke Gates is the most intriguing man she's met in years. Katie has no time to figure out Luke's secrets, though. Her main priority is raising her rambunctious ten-year-old son. But the more Katie crosses paths with the six-foot Texan, the more smitten she is. And although Luke insists he isn't husband or father material, Katie can't help dreaming of the man next doorâ¦
Luke felt a sense of belonging, of finally having a place in the world he could call home.
For the first time in a long time, he experienced a need to be connected, to be a part of something bigger than just himself. It was an odd sensation, really, one he'd hoped he would avoid for the rest of his life. And he suspected it had more than a little to do with Katie Kinkaid. That mite of a woman had found a way to bore herself under his skin, and he found himself thinking about her far too much.
He envisioned her dark red hair, spread around a face that was flushed with desire, imagined kissing the freckles on the bridge of her nose, saw vividly within his mind's eye her swift intake of breath and seductively parted lips as he began making slow, sensuous love to her.
If Luke didn't know better, he'd think he was in love.
Also By Lisa Jackson
The Millionaire and the Cowgirl
Lisa Jackson
“I'm countin' on you, boy. Now that Dave's gone, all his mother and me got left is the thought that he might have left himself a son or daughter. Don't know if it's true, you know, but he mentioned something about it the last time we spoke to him.” The old man's voice cracked. “You let me know, hear?”
“Will do,” Luke Gates promised, cursing himself as he slammed the phone down. How had he gotten himself roped into this mess? Sweat ran down his back, and the sweltering heat of the September day seemed worse in the confines of this tiny, top-floor apartment of an old carriage house in Southern Oregon.
In Luke's estimation, Ralph Sorenson should do his own damned dirty work. What the hell was Luke doing, getting caught up in an old man's hopes and dreams that were bound to cause nothing but heartache and pain? So the old man thought he had a grandson. So he hoped that Luke would find the kid. So he was going to pay him to do it. Big deal.
But it was. When it came to money, Luke had been born with a weakness, a hunger for it. Having grown up dirt-poor, tossed around from one aunt to another, constantly reminded that he was “another mouth to feed” and that he must “earn his own keep” had only fostered his drive and need to chase after the almighty greenback.
But this job might be too much.
Ralph was pushing. Too hard. But then, the old man was desperate.
Luke's stomach curdled as he thought of the heavy-bodied man who had helped turn him from a hellion into a decent-enough businessman. Luke had never known his own father, and Ralph was the closest thing he now had to family. He supposed, under the circumstances, the reverse was true as well.
But still, the thought of dragging forgotten skeletons out of closets and digging up innocent people's lives didn't appeal to him.
Not so innocent,
he reminded himself.
Ralph Sorenson deserved to know his own flesh and blood. Who cared if it fouled up some woman's life? And besides, there was a pile of money involved.
Telling himself it didn't matter what he thought, Luke yanked on his favorite pair of boots and headed outside. Pausing on the upper landing of the staircase, he felt the impact of the late afternoon. The air was as dry as a west Texas wind, and the September sun merciless. Just the way he liked it.
Sliding his key ring from his pocket, he hurried down the flight of stairs and strode across the patchy dry lawn to a spot of concrete by the garage where his pickup leaked a little oil. He'd lived here for a couple of weeks and planned to stay until he could make the old ranch house livable. It would take a little doing, even by his spartan standards.
A crow cawed angrily from an eave of the main house, a massive Victorian complete with gables, shutters and gingerbread trim. The turn-of-the-century home had been divided up some years back and now had several apartment units ensconced within its century-old walls.
He heard the sound of tires on gravel. A convertible, belching blue exhaust, the engine knocking out of synch, careened into the drive. The driver, a red-haired woman he'd caught glimpses of before, stepped on the brakes. She was out of the car before it stopped rolling.
“Hi!” She waved.
What was her name? Katie Something-or-other, he thoughtâa relative, maybe a sister, of Tiffany Santini, the widow who was his landlady.
Katie strode toward him with an air of confidence he found refreshing. A mite of a thing with fiery red hair, a sprinkling of freckles over a pert little nose and a pixie-ish jaw, she didn't dally. Sunglasses covered her eyes. “You're Luke Gates, aren't you? I've seen you around here, and I always wanted to introduce myself.” She flashed him a smile that wouldn't quit, the kind of thousand-watt grin that beautiful women used to get what they wanted. Her hand was already outstretched as she marched up to him. “I'm Katie Kinkaid, Tiffany's sisterâwell, half sister really.” Her teeth were a set of pearls that were straight enough except for a small, sexy overlap in the front two, and her face was flushed, as if she'd been running. He could do nothing but accept the small hand that was jabbed his way.
“Glad to meet you,” he drawled, though he wasn't really sure. Katie struck him as the kind of woman who could steamroll right over a man even though she was only a couple of inches over five feet.
“Me, too.” She shook his hand crisply, then let it drop. “Don't suppose you've seen my son around here, have ya? He's ten going on sixteen, got reddish-brown hair and is about yea tall.” She gestured with the flat of one hand to the height of her opposite shoulder. “He's usually moving about a billion miles a minute, and he's been spending a lot of time hanging out here with Stephen in the last day or two.”
Luke knew the kid she meant. A gangly kid always on the go. “I think I've seen him,” Luke allowed with a flick of his gaze toward the back porch. “But not today.”
“Hmm.” She shoved her bangs from her eyes, and the scent of some flowery perfume teased at his nostrils. “Tiffany said something about taking the kids out to the farmâyou know, the old Zalinski place that Santini Brothers Enterprises bought for their latest vineyard and winery. They probably just haven't gotten back yet.” She slid her sunglasses off her nose and chewed on one arm as she squinted down the length of the driveway. “I guess I'll just have to wait.” Pausing for a second, she turned her attention back to Luke. “So, I've been meaning to ask ever since I first saw you, what brings you to Bittersweet?”
“Business.”
She was a pushy little thing. She gave him the once-over, a swift glance up and down his body, and her expression said it all. In faded jeans, a T-shirt and his scruffy boots, he didn't look like the typical three-piece-suit-and-tie businessman. But then this was Bittersweet, Oregon, not New York City or LA.
“What kind of business?”
He had to get the word out sooner or later. Though he was going to do a little bit of detective work for Ralph, that was only part of his reason for hanging around. The ranch was his real purpose, and now that the sale of the property was a done deal, he saw no reason to keep it to himself anymore. “I bought a spread a few miles outside of town, and I'm hoping to convert it into a working dude ranch.”
Her eyebrows arched up as she slid her shades onto the bridge of her nose again. “You mean for tourists to come down here and round up wild horses, and brand cattle, and, well, do all that macho outdoorsy cowboy thingâkind of like the movie
City Slickers?
”
He couldn't help but smile. “Not that elaborate, but, yeah, that's the general idea.” There was a whole lot more to it than that, but he didn't see any reason to fill her inâor anyone else, for that matterâwith the details. Not just yet. Until he was sure of them himself. Besides, she had a way of distracting him. In white shorts and a sleeveless denim blouse, she showed off a tanned, compact body with more curves than a logging road in the Cascade Mountains. The V of her blouse's neckline gave him a quick glimpse of cleavage between breasts that were more than ample to fit into a man's palm.
He caught himself at the thought and shifted his gaze back to the truck. Katie Kinkaid's all-American-girl-next-door good looks were heightened by a bit of raw sensuality that gripped him hard and caused a ridiculous tightening in his groin.
Obviously it had been way too long since he'd been with a woman.
He even noticed the dimple that creased her cheek when she smiled. She was sexy and earthy, yet exuded an innocence and charm that, if he let it, might get under his skin.
“When do you plan to open the doors?” she asked, and he cleared his throat for fear his voice would betray him.
“By early next summer. Soon as the winter snowpack melts.” He wasn't used to being grilled, wasn't sure he liked it.
“Where is your ranch, exactly?”
“Outside of town about three miles or so.” He decided to end the conversation before she dug too deep. She was a nosy one, this Katie Kinkaid. If he let her, she'd talk to him all afternoon. “I gotta run.”
“Wait a minute. I'm a reporter with the
Rogue River Review
âthat's our local paperâand I'd like to do a story about the ranch when you open.”
So that was it. He should have known.
