Jack (The Family Simon Book 2) (21 page)

It was too quiet.

Morgan wrinkled her nose and pointed to Rick. “You look like a girl. Like the girl who works at Mommy’s bank. She has a mustache. ”

Jack tried to hide his smile, but he couldn’t do it.

“Morgan!” Sabrina hissed.

“But Mommy he does,” Morgan replied, as she turned to her mother. “His hair is longer than yours and his eyes are pretty.”

The quiet was broken. Leave it to a kid.

Jack smiled and glanced around the room. “So who wants coffee?”

Donovan was mortified. To be caught practically naked by Jack’s parents wasn’t something she wanted to repeat. Like ever.

Sure most people would have found at least a little humor in the situation, but it was obvious that Jack’s mother wasn’t a fan. Not that Donnie blamed her, but still, the look on her face when she’d walked into the house had made Donovan’s stomach turn.

It had been shock. Disbelief. And then something akin to dislike. It was there and gone just as quick, Donovan had seen it, and it had been enough.

Sabrina quickly bowed out with her kids, promising to call when Brett was up for a visit.

Jack stood in front of her, his back to his family, and for a few seconds, all Donovan could do was close her eyes and try to get her shit together.

“Hey,” Jack said softly, his hand sliding to her chin. “How’s the foot?”

She exhaled and opened her eyes. “Sabrina says it’s sprained. She left me this tenser bandage so…”

Jack scooped up the bandage and carefully, gently, wrapped her foot. She didn’t know her breath was held until she let it out in a big whoosh when he set her leg back down. She was still perched on the counter, trapped between Jack and his family.

“What happened to your face?”

That was Rick. He was a few inches to Jack’s left, and she saw the concern there.

“I’m fine, Maverick. It was stupid, really. I fell down this incline, and well, I’m lucky all I ended up with was a sprained ankle.”

“Lucky,” Rick muttered, his eyes on Jack. “Yeah, real lucky.”

Jack turned to his cousin. “If you got something to say Maverick, why the hell don’t you say it?”

“Boys,” Noah Simon said gruffly. “Enough.”

Jack glanced back at his father and sighed. “It’s been a tough couple of days.”

Noah nodded. “I’m sure it has. Why don’t I put a pot of coffee on and you can get...ah…Donovan can—“

“Dressed would be good,” his mother said coolly, rummaging in the pantry for the coffee. “I’ll make the coffee, Noah. Why don’t you take our things upstairs. Maverick you, too. I don’t like mess, and these suitcases are in the way.”

Donovan slid off the counter, shaking her head when Jack would have taken her hand. “I don’t need you to get dressed,” she said softly.

“No, but I don’t mind watching.”

Devil.

Donovan attempted a smile but just couldn’t quite get there. She avoided Maverick’s piercing gaze and walked with as much dignity as she could toward the stairs. By the time she reached them, her cheeks burned red, and she was glad no one could see her. The stupid T-shirt barely covered her ass and she tried to hold onto the railing, while tugging the shirt down as low as she could so that said ass wasn’t on display for Jack’s parents.

Though the thought of mooning his mother did bring a smile to her face, even if it was only for a second.

She had just stepped inside her bedroom when Maverick slid in behind her and closed the door shut.

“Rick, not now,” she said, walking across to her suitcase and rifling through it for something suitable. She hadn’t bothered to unpack and most of the stuff was wrinkled. She grabbed up a pale pink dress, but it was too short. It was longer than the goddamn T-shirt she was wearing, but still. Next she reached for a pair of jean cut offs. They’d do.

“Why the hell are you here, anyway?” she asked, scooping up a plain white T-shirt. She turned to Maverick, suddenly curious and on the heels of that thought, sort of nauseous.

Why were they all here?
“You went missing, Donnie. Did you forget that?”

“I…I was gone for a few hours.” Her mind, raced but she had nothing. She was tired, hungry as hell and pretty much sick of the drama that always seemed to attach itself to her life.

“It was a lot longer than a few hours. Jack called me yesterday. He was out of his mind, because no one could find you. He thought that maybe you’d called me. Maybe you’d flown home to LA.”

Donovan sat on the edge of her bed, her legs buckling. “He called you?”

“Damn right he did, and I told him that I hadn’t heard shit from you and that if one hair on your head was damaged, I was going to kick his ass from here to the moon and back.”

A wave of fatigue washed over her and the clothes she’d picked out fell through her fingers onto the floor. She felt like shit.

“Hey,” Maverick said, crossing the room to her side. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” Her head shot up. “Why are Jack’s parents here?”

“Donovan,” Maverick said slowly. “I don’t think you’re understanding the situation. The whole fucking world knows you’re up in Canada with Jack. It’s only a matter of time before the paparazzi and reporters find their way out to this lake.”

Donovan thought she was going to pass out.

“But how?” She said weakly. “Jack wouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m guessing it’s because the police got involved. A high profile celebrity goes missing isn’t something that’s easy to keep under wraps.”

“Police?”

Maverick looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “You were gone, Donnie. Of course he called the police.”

“Shit.”

Alarm. It was like a fast and hard blade thrust deep into bone. It hurt, and she bent forward, head in hands and tried to calm her racing heart. “Shit,” she said again.

Maverick was on the bed beside her, his arms around her shaking body. “What the hell? When are you going to level with me, because something’s going on, and it’s not just about you and Jack playing house up here.”

She yanked her head up, voice shaking so badly she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get the words out. “Does Cooper know?”

Maverick’s eyes narrowed. “What does my brother have to do with this? Why is the fact that you and Jack obviously worked out whatever the fuck issues you had a problem?”

“Does he know?” she said, not caring that she sounded as if she was about to jump off the edge of a cliff. Because she was in fact standing on the edge, and it sure as hell felt as if she was falling.

For a few seconds, Rick said nothing and then he shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to the guy in a couple days. He’s probably at his place in Maine. But it’s only a matter of time. You and Jack are trending on twitter for Christ sake. As of this morning, you’re the number one story on every entertainment news show that there is.”

Donovan was on her feet like a rocket. She stumbled over the clothes on the floor and looked around for her purse. She rooted through the large Kate Spade, but her cellphone wasn’t there and then she turned back toward the bed, hair flying wildly and spotted the device on the comforter.

Maverick watched her but remained silent. His dark eyes were concerned, but she ignored him, and when he got up, she never noticed. Donovan’s only thought was heading off a showdown with Cooper before she could tell Jack everything.

With shaking fingers, she looked through her contacts but no dice.

“Rick what’s his number?” Frantic she glanced up.

“Whose?”

“Cooper. What’s his number? I need to talk to him.”

“If he’s in Maine he won’t answer.”

“I don’t care. I have to talk to try.”

He tossed her his cell, and she quickly searched through Rick’s contacts until she found the number she needed. She held the cell to her ear, biting her lip nervously as she waited for the connection and when she heard his voice, she jumped.

“Cooper, I...”

But it was his voice mail and Donovan clenched the phone so tightly that her fingers cramped. She waited for his message to be over and then took a deep breath, hoping she didn’t sound like the lunatic she heard in her head.

“Cooper, please call me as soon as you get this message. There are things you don’t know, things that are… just please call me before you do anything or talk to Jack. Please.” She paused, fighting tears and fatigue and hurt and fear. “It’s Donovan.”

With dead fingers she tossed the cell onto the bed.

“Donovan.”

She ignored Maverick and hoped he would go away. She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to share. And she sure as hell didn’t want to go downstairs.

Like a caged animal, she began to pace, biting her nails, eyes on the floor. Had it always been knotted walnut?

“Donnie,” Maverick said again, this time louder. She turned around and froze.

“Are you going to tell me about this?” he asked.

Her eyes moved to his hand. To the small white plastic tube she’d left on the counter of her bathroom the day before. Sweat broke out on her forehead.

This could not be happening.

But it was.

Mouth dry and feeling as if she was going to fall flat on her face, Donovan attempted a shot of normalcy, but it pretty much crumpled as soon as she spoke.

“What does it say?” she whispered.

“You don’t know?” He looked so worried that Donovan had a pretty good idea exactly what it said before she walked over to Rick and took it from his fingers.

The roaring in her ears wouldn’t go away. And her stomach rolled so violently she felt as if she was sailing across the choppy lake. Her eyes blurred and it took a bit for her to see the results.

To focus on that one blue line. A blue line that was sharp and bright and so damn perfect it was hard to miss.

A blue line that wasn’t going anywhere. Hell no. That blue line was sticking around for about nine months.

“What are you doing Jack?”

Jack was annoyed. He loved his mother, but the woman had a habit of poking her nose into his business, and right now, he could do without the poking. She meant well. She always meant well, but he wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.

“I’m not getting into this with you, Mom. Donovan is hands off okay?”

His mother’s pale blond hair was tucked back into a classic bob that shimmered under the sun peeking in from the window over the sink. She filled the coffee carafe with water, but her eyes never left his, and he could tell she was in this for the win.

“I’m your mother, Jack. Nothing is hands off. I don’t care if you’re ten or twenty-five.”

“Yeah, well I’m not twenty-five, Mom. Haven’t been for several years.”

Her mouth pursed. She didn’t like that one.

“Don’t be smart with me, Jack. I know exactly how old you are, and I’m not leaving this alone.”

Jack glanced upstairs. Christ. He didn’t want to do this right, now but he knew that if is mother wanted to discuss something, it was happening. She was stubborn as hell, but then so was Jack.

So did he give in and get into it with her? Or was he up for an epic standoff.

“Look,” he finally said, handing her the coffee grinds so that she could add them to the machine. “Donovan and I, we worked out some stuff over the last week or so—”

“Week?” His mother’s head shot up, and she spilled some grinds onto the counter. He handed her a cloth and sighed.

“We were together in Belize just over a week ago.”

His mother was confused.

“Grace set it up.”

She shoved the carafe in place and pressed the ON button before leaning against the counter, muttering ‘Grace’ and ‘unbelievable’. She tossed the cloth back into the sink and nailed him with a harried look.

“Let’s forget about Grace and get back to the working things out.”

“There’s not much to say. Nothing I want to share with you, other than that we’re together.”

Eden Simon crossed her arms across her chest and arched an eyebrow. “Five years ago, she broke your heart. Or have you forgotten that?”

Okay. His annoyance had ramped up way past ten. He needed to shut this shit down now. “Doesn’t matter.”

“How can it not matter?” Her arms flew into the air. “Jack, she didn’t just break your heart, she broke mine, too. I wanted to wipe her off this planet for hurting you. For her to just walk away from you with no explanation is unforgivable.”

Jack’s heart melted, and he stepped forward. His mother loved all of her kids with every cell in her body. She would go to the mat for him. She would take on anyone if she thought they’d wronged him. Pretty damn impressive considering she was five feet nothing.

“Mom,” he said gently, his hands on her shoulders. “I love her.”

“Jack, she’s no good for you.”

“You’re wrong about that.”

“I’m your mother, Jack. I’m not wrong about anything.” That was a line she’d been using since he was five. It made him smile.

“You’re wrong about this.”

“Am I? Prove it to me. Tell me why I’m wrong.”

Jack shook his head. “Really? We’re doing this now?”

His mother nodded. “Really. I just flew all the way from Florida to hear this story, and I’m damn well going to hear it. Tell me why I have to accept this woman into our family again when she couldn’t get it right the first time around.”

Jack stepped back. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

“I love her.”

“You already said that.”

“Shouldn’t that be enough?”

“No, Jack. Those are just words. I need more, or I’m not on board. And trust me, you want me on board.”

“More.”

She nodded. “More.”

Jack was used to using words to express himself. He did it every single day in the work place. He was used to giving speeches and had made speaking at democratic fundraisers an art form. He was good. He was damn good. So why was he finding it so goddamn hard articulating what was in his heart?

He took a moment to look inward. To remember the terror he’d felt the day before when Donovan had been missing. He thought about Belize, and he thought back to that first night he’d seen her in Nashville.