Jack (The Family Simon Book 2) (13 page)

Donovan swallowed hard at the look in Sabrina’s eyes. She was small, with short dark hair and elfin features that were delicate. Huge eyes stared up at Jack, and they couldn’t hide the sadness. In fact, they were so expressive that Donovan felt the woman’s pain as it was a living, breathing thing.

She had a vague recollection of meeting Sabrina the one time she’d been here, but couldn’t picture her husband Brett. They were close friends if she wasn’t mistaken. For Harry to call Jack, Uncle, very close friends it seemed.

“I didn’t know,” Jack said, letting Harry down as Coco struggled to jump as well.

“We’ve kept it pretty quiet. Not saying much. It’s what Brett wants, you know?”

“Who are you?” Harry walked over to Donovan, his expression curious. “You’re pretty,” he said, with a grin that Donovan couldn’t ignore.

She held out her hand and accepted his in an exaggerated shake. “My name is Donovan. Nice to meet you Harry.”

“That sounds like a boy’s name.”

“Harry! What a thing to say.” Sabrina smiled widely and glanced up at Jack. “So, Hollywood Tattler got something right for a change. Congrats. When did you guys get back together?”

“Oh, no we’re…we’re ah…” But Donovan’s tongue was all tied up in knots as alarm set it. She glanced at Jack, and he must have sensed her panic.

“Sabrina, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Uh huh,” Sabrina replied, smile still in place as she glanced over to Donovan.

“We’re hoping for a bit of quiet to sort through some things. I hope you understand that this can’t get out, or they’ll be a shit-storm of media,” Jack continued.

“You don’t have to worry about us spilling anything, but Jack, I’m calling bullshit on this right now.”

Harry jumped up and down at that and gave Jack a big high-five. “You’re here for two whole weeks? Awesome! I have to tell Morgan.”

“Morgan?” Donovan squeaked. Jesus. How many of them were there?

“His twin,” Sabrina said with a laugh. “I’m just so happy for the both of you. You guys are meant to be together. I told Jack that the last time he was here with that Monique. Don’t get me wrong. She was a nice lady and all, just not his type.”

“What’s my type?” Jack asked lightly.

“Anyone who won’t take your shit.” She winked. “I won’t tell a soul that you’re here. God, Brett’s gonna love this. He’s a huge fan.” She glanced between the two of them. “You’ll come for supper? I’ve got salmon for the grill. Brett will love it.”

Sabrina looked so happy, her sadness wiped out at the thought of true love, that Donovan felt herself caving.

“Mommy’s making peas, too, but you don’t have to eat them if you don’t like them. I hate peas.” Harry high-fived Jack once more and disappeared out the door, yelling for his brother or sister, Donovan wasn’t sure which, as the door slammed shut behind him.

Sabrina’s brows rose in question. “So, dinner?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jack replied. “What can we bring? Donovan’s a whiz in the kitchen.”

Okay. That was cheap. Donovan kept her smile in place, though her eyes were shooting daggers.

“Just yourselves. I’ve got everything covered. I’ll let you guys get settled. See you at four.”

Sabrina gave a quick wave and disappeared, leaving the two of them staring at each other in silence. “Chin up, Donnie,” Jack said softly. “At least you don’t have to cook.”

Jack grabbed a bottle of red and white from the wine rack and waited for Donovan to come down from her room. She’d escaped up there as soon as Sabrina left, and he hadn’t heard a peep from her since. He was just thinking he would have to go up and get her when the door to her bedroom swung open, and she appeared on the landing.

Damn.

She wore a soft yellow sundress, one she’d worn in Belize, and the cut while conservative, did nothing to hide her curves. If anything, the way the soft material draped over her hips made her look wholly feminine, just the way a woman was supposed to look. With her golden skin, long hair pulled back into a simple ponytail and her face free of makeup, she was so much like the Donovan of old that he had to remind himself that she was a long way from the girl he’d fallen for.

Of course that was easier said than done. His body automatically tightened, and he realized it was going to be a hard few weeks denying the pull. He wanted her. And though she would no doubt deny it until she was blue in the face, he knew that she wanted him.

But this here—this time spent at his summer home—was all about finding closure, at least for him. Discovering secrets and learning some answers to all those questions he still had.

These few weeks were nothing more. Nothing less.

She froze when she caught sight of him, her cheeks slowly turning a nice shade of blush. The air, hell, the air felt alive as the two of them stared at each other. But then, hadn’t it always been like this? Since that first night he’d spied her in Nashville?

Jack broke the spell, but it took more nerve than he wanted to admit to. Hard few weeks? That didn’t come close.

“We’re late,” he said.

Donovan raised an eyebrow and started down the steps. “Sorry. I fell asleep and then needed to shower.”

Coco pounced on her as soon as her foot hit the bottom step, and she bent over to rub her hand along the top of the dog’s head. “Hey you,” she murmured as Coco, the little shit, pranced for her. Damn dog had no loyalty.

“Let’s go,” he said curtly, pointing toward the door.

Donovan straightened, her chin set at a determined angle, and it was one he recognized. She wasn’t going to make any of this easy. But then again, had she ever?

“I’ll go because Sabrina is a nice woman, and it seems to me that her husband will enjoy the company. But before I do, we need to get a few things straight.”

““A few?” Shit, there was never just ‘a few’ with Donovan. “We’re already late,” he said again, his irritation growing by the second.

“No shit,” she replied. “And we’re going to be a hell of a lot later unless you listen up.”

His lips pressed together. “You’ve got one minute.”

“That right there is your problem. Your need to control every situation. You can’t control me, Jack, and I’ll take however long I damn well need. I’ve had time to think about our situation, and I’ve got some rules you need to hear. You abide by them and we just may come out of this without killing each other.”

“Rules.”

“Yep,” she said, nodding. “Rules. You remember those don’t you? Or are you gonna pull the politician card and play by your own?”

Something sparked inside him. Something hot and electric. He hated to admit it, but he was enjoying himself. “I always play by my own rules, or is that something you’ve forgotten?”

“You’re so full of yourself,” she snapped, her control slipping a bit. He saw the tick near the corner of her mouth. Bingo.

“I’ve heard that a few times.”

Donovan took a few steps forward, and he noted the gloss on her lips. They looked all shiny and wet and soft just the way he liked them to be, though he wasn’t going to think about that right now. Nope. He needed to push that stuff back and think about something else.

Like the pulse at the base of her neck. It was erratic, and her breath hitched at the back of her throat telling him that she was more than a little worked up. Good. He just hoped he was doing a better job of hiding his reaction from her.

“Rule number one,” she said, tongue darting out to moisten that already shiny mouth. She was probably doing that on purpose, because he was finding it hard to concentrate on pretty much anything besides that mouth.

Donovan James was a witch.

“Do not talk to me like I’m one of your underlings. I don’t answer to you, and I certainly don’t take orders from you. When you start that, I just shut down. Thought you’d at least remember that.”

“Got it.”

If she was surprised at his fast reply, she didn’t show it.

“Rule number two. Don’t expect me to play the girlfriend on this trip. I’m not your girlfriend. I’m not your anything. Heck, I’m pretty sure that I’m not even your baby-mama.”

“Not yet,” he said softly. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and those cheeks of hers were now a rosy red.

“Rule number three.”

“Christ, how many are there?”

“Two weeks is all you get from me.”

“What if I want three?”

“Rule number four,” she continued, ignoring him as she plunged forward. “I won’t have sex with you.”

Jack grinned, though he felt anything but glee. He took the last few steps until he was so close to Donovan he could count the freckles that dusted her nose, and the eyelashes that shadowed her cheek.

He bent low and felt her tremble even though he didn’t touch her. His body was hot and tight and damned if that didn’t piss him off more than a little bit.

What. The. Fuck.

Jack reminded himself that she was no good for him. That the only person she loved was herself. He thought of five years ago and felt a spark of anger join the boatload of crap inside him. Good. Anger was good. That’s what he would focus on.

“Let me make myself clear, Donnie. If you were the last woman on this fucking planet, I wouldn’t go there. Not with you. Not again. You’re not worth the bother. This here is all about what might be inside you. The fact that you could be carrying my child is something I take seriously, but don’t flatter yourself into thinking this is anything other than that. Once we know, we’ll decide what to do.”

He took a step back, done for now. “And as for number three? You’ll leave here when I’m good and ready to let you.”

“You’re a bastard.”

“Call me whatever you want,” he replied, pointing toward the door. “Now let’s go. Sabrina and Brett are expecting us.”

He moved aside so that she could pass, glaring at Coco when the animal practically jumped into her arms.

“The dog stays here. Last thing Brett needs is to have the little bugger creating havoc in his—”

But she was already out the door with Coco who looked happier than a pig in shit sitting in her arms. His scowl deepened. He’d like nothing more than to carry on with whatever this was, but he decided to take some of his mother’s advice, something that had served him well many times in the political arena.

Pick your battles, and pick ‘em well.

He followed Donovan down the walkway that led to the boathouse and the two of them walked in silence, following the well-worn path through the tall trees that led to Brett’s cottage.

He’d talked to Brett off and on over the last few months, but not once had Brett ever indicated he was this sick. Jack knew that a tumor had been found but he’d assumed it was benign. Brett was like a brother to him, seemed as if he’d know the guy forever, but life had gotten in the way these past few years and he hadn’t seen Brett since Christmas.

Now he wasn’t sure what he was walking into. As they approached the large deck that ran the length of Sabrina and Brett’s cottage, two kids came barreling down the path, screaming and yelling like holy terrors. Harry made a beeline past him, shouting something about juice and the boathouse fridge.

“Uncle Jack! Harry tolded me you were here.” The second child, a little dark haired girl, launched herself at him like a missile and he barely managed to hold onto the wine as she wrapped her little arms around his legs. “Are you gonna drive the boat tomorrow?”

He glanced down at Morgan. Man the little sprite had grown. “Hey princess. What say we talk about that later?”

Her eyes were Brett’s, a deep blue, but the rest of her was all Sabrina. She was as spunky as her brother, but there’d always been a sweetness about her, and Jack felt something tighten inside him as he gazed down at her earnest face.

“But Daddy can’t drive the boat, and Mommy doesn’t know how,” she pleaded. “Pretty please with pink and purple and blue sparkles on top?”

“We’ll get you out on the water,” he said gently, the tension along his shoulders increasing as he heard a door slam above them.

He gazed up at the deck and tried to keep the shock from his face, but he wasn’t sure that he was able to.

Brett Campbell looked sick as hell. His tall body was only a shadow of his former self, the long limbs covered in thick sweats, as if he needed them for comfort and heat. He was bald, though Jack wasn’t sure if it was because he was sick or if he’d just gone ahead and shaved it. He moved slowly, taking his time to cross over to the railing and Sabrina appeared at his side, slipping her arms through his and kissing the side of his face.

Brett smiled down, and it was then that Jack finally saw a glimmer of his old buddy. He cleared his throat and offered a smile of his own, reaching for some kind of normalcy.

The two men stared at each other for several long moments, and then Jack shrugged. “You look like shit.”

Brett laughed. A full-on laugh that lit up his wife’s face. “You look as pretty as ever,” Brett replied before his eyes moved past Jack to Donovan. “And keeping some interesting company. My wife insists we’ve met before, but I don’t think I’d forget that. So nice to meet you Donovan.”

“Likewise,” Donovan answered softly.

Morgan tugged on his leg again. “Is she your girlfriend?” The little eyebrows were drawn together tight. “You tolded me at Christmas that I was your bestest girlfriend.”

Donovan moved past Jack and took a moment to smile down at Morgan. “Don’t worry darlin’, Jack is all yours.” She then marched up the steps with Coco and paused in front of Brett.

“Thanks so much for opening your home to us this evening. I hope you don’t mind that we brought this little critter. He belongs to Jack you know, and Jack just can’t go anywhere without him.”

Brett laughed again. “You’re full of shit.”

“I am,” Donovan answered with a big grin.

Morgan took that moment to tug on Jack’s cargos. “That’s a bad word, isn’t it, Uncle Jack?”

“Sure is,” he replied, eyes on the three adults above him.

“Mommy’s gonna make Daddy put a fiver in the swear jar.”

“Is she now,” Jack said, scooping up his little friend before making his way to the stairs so that he could join everyone else on the deck.