Jack (The Family Simon Book 2) (12 page)

He let that sink in for good measure. “You’re hiding something, and I’m going to find out exactly what it is.” Maybe then he’d finally get her out of his system enough to deal with a possible child rationally.

“You can’t….I’m not.” She gulped. “This is so wrong, Jack.” Her breath caught once more, and she had to take a moment. “So wrong. Just let me go home and we’ll talk when I know...when I know if I’m pregnant. Which I’m probably not. I mean, come on, the chances of that are pretty slim.” She exhaled and whispered. “Please. Let me go.”

Jack knew that whatever it was she was hiding went way beyond a possible pregnancy. For her to beg? That wasn’t Donovan James. She didn’t take shit from anyone. His resolve toughened. The two of them had a lot of issues that had never been addressed, and it was damn well time to put them to rest.

He pointed toward the seating area. “I’ll take the sofa. You might try getting a good night’s sleep—our flight is an early one.”

Donovan glanced out into the darkness, just beyond the wall to wall window. “Who knows about this?” she asked. “About Belize and…the rest.”

“No one,” he replied.

She turned back to him. “If I come. If I do this, you have to promise me no one finds out. No one can know.”

“That’s your call.”

She laughed, a bitter sound. “I wish it was.” And turned without another word.

Jack watched until she disappeared into the bedroom. The anger that boiled inside him was still there, and the satisfaction he was waiting for wasn’t coming.

In fact he felt like shit.

He eased back onto the sofa and tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head. The one that kept asking,
Are you fucking crazy? Have you totally lost it?

He closed his eyes. One way or another, he was going to find out.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

Donovan winced as Maverick’s voice filled her ear. She’d waited to call him from the private plane Jack had chartered. Their flight was delayed a bit as they had to update the manifest with her passport information and file the necessary paperwork.

Jack was chatting with the pilot, and damn him, he looked well rested and as handsome as ever. She, on the other hand, looked like absolute crap. Her hair was tied back in a loose pony, and she was dressed in sweats—not the trendy kind you could get away with wearing in public, but her old ratty favorites. Heck, there was even a hole in the butt of her track pants, but she didn’t give a crap. She wasn’t feeling the need to look good for anyone right now. In fact she’d hardly slept and a bed was looking real good.

She rubbed her fingers along her forehead, feeling a tension headache coming on.

“Donovan? Are you still there?”

“Yep,” she whispered, trying to quell the nerves in her stomach. She still had no idea what Jack was planning or why he’d come up with such a ridiculous plan, but at the moment she was stuck. No way could she let him leak their rendezvous to the press. Cooper would be all over that, and she couldn’t let that happen. Ironic really, that she was willing to do this in order to protect Jack.

In order to protect yourself, she thought. Her stomach rolled and she wasn’t sure if the wave of nausea was because she was overtired, freaked out and just plain scared. Or if she was…

God, what a mess.

“What the fuck?” Maverick said gruffly.

“Rick, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Less than twelve hours ago, you told me that you and Jack would never be a thing. Now you’re heading to Gravenhurst with him?”

“That’s about right.”

“And you want this.”

“I do.”

“You’re lying.”

“I might be.”

Maverick swore under his breath. “You sound like shit.”

“I look even worse,” she joked. But the joke fell flat, and silence filled her ear.

“What happened last night?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” That was the thing about Maverick. He saw through her in a way no one else could. Other than Jack.

“It’s a long, complicated story and maybe I should be writing down some words because lord knows this would make a hit song.”

“Look if you’re not okay with this, just say the word and I’m up there. I’ve known Jack my whole life, and he can be a downright bastard when he wants to be.”

“No shit,” she murmured, eyes back on Jack as he shook the pilot’s hand. “I have to go.”

“Donovan, are you sure you don’t want me to come and get you?”

“I’m sure.” Truthfully she wasn’t sure about anything. Jack hated her. That was pretty obvious. She didn’t blame him. In his eyes, she’d used him and tossed him aside. More than once.

His reasons for blackmailing her into going with him to Gravenhurst weren’t exactly clear though. And the pregnancy thing? Her stomach rolled again just thinking about it. She wasn’t ready to have a child. Especially with a man who didn’t like or respect her all that much.

Whose fault is that?

Lordy, but her life really sucked at the moment.

“Look, I’m heading back to LA, but you say the word and I’m there for you. Got it?” Maverick said quietly.

“Okay,” she replied, trying like hell to stop the hot tears she felt pricking the side of her eyes.

“Maybe this is a second chance for you guys.”

“You’re such a romantic,” she whispered, sitting up as Jack glanced back. “I really have to go. I’ll talk to you in a bit.”

She tossed her cell back into her large Kate Spade bag and rooted around for her sunglasses. Once she had the over-sized Gucci’s in hand, she slipped them onto her face and ignored Jack as he slid into the seat across from her.

She flipped through a fashion magazine, but didn’t see a thing. Jack was on his cellphone and when she heard the name Derek, she froze.

“I’m gonna be up north for a few weeks. If anything important comes up, you can get in touch with me there.”

Turning a page, she pretended to read the article in front of her, but her ears were all on Jack.

“Nah, just relaxing. I took your word and decided that an extended vacation was in order.” A pause. “Monique?” Another pause. “I’ll think about it. Look, we’re about to take off, just keep me in the loop. I’ll be working out of the office up there.”

Donovan kept her eyes glued to the magazine in her lap, even though it was now rolled up and she had no memory of doing that.

“Miss Donovan? Please fasten your seatbelt. We’re about to take off.” The flight attendant, Dawn, was one of Jack’s people.

“Oh, sorry.” She nodded, did up her seatbelt and glanced over to Jack. He was busy sending a text and looked up just as the attendant leaned over. He smiled at the woman and just for one second, Donovan was lost in his eyes, in the beauty of his smile. She knew what it was like to be on the receiving end and could visualize the woman’s blush.

The spell was broken when Jack’s eyes slid to Donovan, and all pretense of politeness vanished. She held his gaze—wasn’t giving him an inch—but the victory felt hollow when he relaxed in his seat and reached for his tablet.

She turned toward her window as the plane began to move. Oh Donnie, she thought. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

They arrived at the Simon family home in Gravenhurst around one in the afternoon. The place was as beautiful as she remembered, more so, since the late July weather was incredible. Not nearly as muggy as Florida, nor as stuffy as New York City, it was a little piece of heaven on earth. The water sparkled, the air was fresh and the house was as picture perfect as a postcard. Set on a slight rise overlooking the beach and boathouse, the pale yellow home boasted an impressive number of windows, white trim, a wrap around porch that would make any southern lady jealous, and an amazing view of Lake Muskoka.

Donovan spotted several boaters crossing a few miles out, kids tubing and yelling crazily as they whipped across the blue waves. They looked carefree and happy—something Donovan had never been as a child.

“Jesus Christ, Coco. What the hell have you got there?”

Donovan turned around. Jack was in the process of unloading his truck and glared across the driveway at a defiant little critter who was staring back at him with—was that a dead animal in its mouth?

She hadn’t realized the dog had been crated on the plane until they’d landed, and though she’d been dying to comment on his little friend, she’d kept her mouth shut. After all, they were in that ignoring-each-other-stage at the moment.

She watched Jack closely, saw the muscle work its way across his jaw, and she knew he was about to lose it. The dog shook its head as if to say, ‘hey, look at this’ and Jack swore.

She couldn’t help it. After several tense hours of travel, a smile tugged the corner of her mouth. It wasn’t that she’d never pictured Jack with a dog, she’d just never pictured him with one that she could fit into her Kate Spade.

Coco dropped whatever dead animal he had found and then proceeded to roll overtop of it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jack growled. He glanced up at Donovan, both hands busy with luggage. “Can you do something about that?”

“Not my dog,” she replied, before scooping up her guitar case and heading into the house. No way was she making this easy for him. He had pretty much blackmailed her into spending the next few weeks up here, and he could damn well put up with a bit of attitude.

The main room was massive, open concept, with wall to wall windows along the lake side, letting in the beauty of the outdoors. Sun spilled inside, coloring the dark hardwood, the cream granite, and whitewashed cupboards in a halo of light. Luxurious without being pretentious, the house was a testament to Jack’s mother’s taste. It was understated, elegant, and Donovan had fallen in love with it the first time she’d come up with Jack.

With a sigh, she set down her guitar and glanced up.

There were several bedrooms just off of the walkway that encircled ¾ of the great room, though the last time she’d been here with Jack, they’d slept outside in the bunky. It had been more private and back then, they were all about privacy. Back then, they made love whenever they could.

The door slammed open behind her, and she jumped, barely avoiding the small bundle of fur that darted past her and jumped onto a chair before coming to a halt on the granite island in the kitchen. Waving its tail madly, the little thing practically shook with excitement.

“I would have pictured a golden retriever.”

Jack walked past her and set down the bags, scowling in the general direction of the dog.

“Trust me, he wasn’t my idea.”

Curiosity piqued, Donovan was silent for a few moments but then she couldn’t help herself. “So, whose idea was he?”

Jack swung his gaze her way, his mood obviously black. “Monique’s.”

“Ah,” she murmured. “I didn’t realize your relationship with Monique had evolved to the pet stage.”

The thought of Jack and Monique living together with a dog wasn’t something she wanted to think about.

“So what happened?” she asked.

“You did.”

Heart pounding, Donovan was silent for a few moments. Miami. Shit.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, when she could speak.

“You should be,” Jack said. “Thanks to you, I’m stuck with this little pain in the ass.”

Coco hopped down and began to run circles around Jack’s legs and even though he said he didn’t care for the bundle of fur, she watched him scoop up the little creature and rummage in the pantry until he found a box of biscuits. Something about watching this larger than life guy be so gentle with an animal not much bigger than his hand did something to Donovan.

Chest tight, she grabbed her bags. If she was going to be stuck here for the next few weeks, she was going to play it cool. She had to shut down the emotional shit because it would only bite her in the ass.

She also needed to contact her publicist, and she should at least call her mother. Their relationship was strained at the moment, but her mom would notice if she dropped off the radar, and Donovan didn’t need Jayleigh poking around. Her mother would see this as nothing more than publicity, and lord knows what she would do if she found out Donovan was up here with Jack.

“Which room should I take?”

He turned then and her mouth went dry at the look in his eyes. Was he remembering the last time they’d been here?

Jack held her gaze for a few heartbeats and then spoke. “I’m the last room on the left, you can take whichever you like.”

Just then there was a sharp rap at the back door and before either one of them could move, a little boy rushed into the house. Blond hair on the long side, the kid was dressed in a bathing suit and nothing else. His cheeks were still full with baby fat, his belly round and full, and if Donovan had to guess, she’d say the little guy was about five or six.

“Uncle Jack! I saw your truck and I just knew it was you!”

Wait. Uncle Jack? She knew all of Jack’s brother’s and none of them had kids.

Donovan watched with interest as the boy threw himself at Jack, who barely managed to catch him and not drop Coco.

“Hey buddy. I didn’t know your parents were up.”

The kid nodded excitedly, his chubby hands encircling Jack’s face in an endearing way that made Donovan’s heart turn over.

“They are. We’ve been here for days and days and days.” The little boy reached for Coco. “You still have him.”

Jack was smiling now. “I do.”

The boy scrunched up his face, petting the top of Coco’s head, his eyes still on Jack as if he was the most important man on the planet. “But I thought you said he was a pain in the—“

“Harry, let’s not repeat anything I say, okay buddy? Code, little man. Code.”

“Hello? Jack?” A woman pushed open the door and strode into the house, a big smile on her face when she saw him. “I thought that was your truck.”

“Sabrina,” he said, flashing that warm smile again. “What gives? You guys are usually up in August.”

“Yeah, well Brett had surgery, and we’re up here relaxing.”

Instant concern lit up Jack’s eyes. “Surgery?”

“Yep,” Harry said excitedly. “Daddy had a thing taken out of his stomach. Like a ball. Mommy says it was as big as a grapefruit.”