Jack (The Family Simon Book 2) (17 page)

She reached for the bag, and he let her take it, his heart now thudding heavily as she tossed it back onto the counter. Her lips parted, her breathing became short and erratic. That something he felt earlier was back. That something was brewing. He felt it settle between them. Felt it settle inside him.

Her eyes were lowered, the long lashes sweeping across her cheeks and throwing shadows. Was she shaking?

“What if I don’t…” She blew out a long breath, eyes still averted. “What if I don’t want to go home?” she whispered.

That thing inside him, whatever the hell it was, unfurled, firing off a shot of adrenaline to every cell in his body. He was hot, so damn hot and tight from the strength of it, that he growled like an animal. Eyes narrowed, he reached for her, a hand on her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

“What are you saying exactly?” he asked carefully, wanting to get this right. No more room for misunderstandings. Not now.

For a second, he thought she was going to bolt. But then her hands slipped up over his forearms, holding him in place, and she licked that damn mouth, her tongue lingering in the corners for a heartbeat.

“I’m saying that I’m sorry for what happened five years ago. I’m sorry for Belize. I’m sorry for a lot of things, but most of all I’m sorry that I hurt you.” She paused, eyes wide and shiny. “I never wanted that Jack. I was trying to protect you and it just went all wrong. If I could go back and change things, I would. But I can’t. I can only change right now and right now I don’t want to be anywhere else other than here with you.”

Jack was silent. What the hell did he say to that? This was the last thing he’d expected to hear. He’d thought about Donovan and their situation all day and the only scenario he’d considered was her taking the damn test and leaving for LA in the morning.

“Fuck,” he muttered, yanking his hands from her and taking a step back. “Jesus Christ, Donnie.” He ran his hands through his hair, eyes on her. He was pissed off, but he didn’t know what the hell he was pissed off at. Donovan for throwing a curveball just when he’d finally decided enough was enough, or himself for actually entertaining the idea of Donovan. Of the two of them together.

How crazy was that?

“There are things that you don’t know,” she said softly, lower lip trembling as if she was about to cry. “Things that I have to tell you and I will. I promise I will but I just…”

“Just what?” he said darkly. What the hell was she doing to him?

“Can we have this time together? These few days? Can we feel things out? See if we can make us work before we let the rest of the world in?”

Unbelievable. His anger and whatever the hell else was knocking around inside him ramped up something fierce.

“Two days ago, you wanted nothing to do with me and now you want to feel things out? Can you see why I have a problem with that?”

She nodded. “I do. I get it. But you can’t deny that there’s still something between us. That it never really went away. I feel it Jack, and I know you do too.”

“Wanting and loving are two different things.” His nostrils flared, and his voice was rough. What the hell? She was hitting him with this shit now?

“Five years ago I thought I had it all. I had you and a life that looked damn good to me. You were it. I didn’t want anyone else. I didn’t look at anyone else. I would have done whatever it took to make it work, but you never asked me to. You didn’t say shit. We had a fight and then you just ended us. You ended what we had.” His voice rose and his anger increased.

She winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it. Not now. Not even then. Thing is? It doesn’t matter if you’re sorry now, because it doesn’t change anything. Whatever we had died. That’s the straight up truth right there. I may still want you, but I sure as hell don’t love you.”

He held her gaze steady so she would know he wasn’t bullshitting, and still his anger ramped up. He wanted her to yell back. Hell, he was in the mood for some kind of fight right about now. Anything to make the deadness inside him go away.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“That doesn’t sound like you, Donnie. What the hell? Okay? That’s all you got?”

She took a step forward and placed her hand over his heart. “It’s all I got,” she replied.

Slowly, so slowly that the seconds felt like minutes, she moved until her body was flush against him. Every. Single. Inch. He was hot and pissed off and horny as hell.

He glared at her, hoping she’d pull away before they did something stupid like sleep together. But she didn’t pull away. She pressed into him as if she belonged there, her soft breasts, that tempting mouth and all that hair, there for the taking.

He should be stronger—the woman was all wrong for him—but he wasn’t. And maybe it was because he was running on empty, or maybe it was those damn tequila shots working their magic. Or the fact that his buddy Brett was dying. Maybe he needed some kind of connection to feel alive.

Hell, it could just be because Donovan James made him weak.

Whatever it was, right now, in this moment, he didn’t care. Besides, when had he ever done the smart thing when it came to this woman?

With a groan he slid his hands into her hair and pulled up until her mouth was right where he wanted it. He slid his lips over hers, and she opened beneath him, her taste and scent filling him.

God, she was so soft and feminine.

Jack kissed her long and hard, his tongue going deep and claiming her as he slid his hand down her back, over the bulky sweatshirt until he settled just above her butt. He held her there, felt his erection swell against her, and then pulled her in harder so that she could feel it too.

Her hands were up his shirt and when she grabbed hold of the hem and practically ripped it off him, he smiled, a dark smile that mirrored the emotions running through him. Because he was about as far away from happy as he could get. In fact, it was a different kind of danger that coursed through him.

Donovan should be scared. She should be very scared.

“You want it rough,” he said, stepping back and tossing his T-shirt. He nailed her with a dark look—liked the wariness that crept into her eyes.

“I want you.”

There was a time when those three words would have brought him to his knees. But right now? They sparked something dark and mean. “Why don’t we call this what it is? You want to fuck.”

Her eyes widened slightly. They wavered, and she lowered her lashes so that he couldn’t see her properly. That pissed him off even more. Yanking her head back, he smiled though it didn’t go anywhere near his eyes. It was hollowed out and empty.

“Do you want to fuck or not?” Why the hell was he doing this?

“Why do you have to be so…so…”

“So what? Crude? Truthful? Isn’t that what sex is between two people who don’t like each other all that much?”

That bottom lip trembled slightly, and he dipped low, dragging his mouth over hers in a brutal kiss that left them both breathing hard. Unsatisfied. Unfulfilled. It wasn’t a kiss meant to seduce. It was a kiss meant to punish.

“You still want this?” he asked, roughly, hands slipping between them into her panties. He slid his finger inside, swearing when he found her slick heat. “Do you want this,” he repeated and it wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” she whimpered.

“This?” He pressed two fingers inside her folds, while his thumb rolled over her clit. It was swollen with need and she cried out, gyrating against him. He began to work her over with his fingers, stroking until she gasped.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what Donnie?

“I want you,” she managed to say.

He curved his index finger and massaged her, watching as she began to buck against him.

“You don’t want us,” he said through gritted teeth, his thumb rolling over her in quick succession. He was being rough and he knew it.

“I want us.”

“There is no us,” he said, lowering his head so that he could bite her shoulder.

She gasped.

“There will never be an us.” He heard his words and the meaning took hold. With a curse, Jack pushed her away.

“We’re not doing this,” he bit out, shaking his head savagely.

Mouth bruised from his kiss, she whispered. “Why are you so angry?”

“I’m not angry, Donovan.”

Liar.

“I’m not anything where you’re concerned. I’m the guy who’s gonna stop this right now. I’m the guy who’s done.”

He pointed to the bag on the counter as he strode past her and headed for the stairs. He needed a shower, and he needed to sleep.

“Do us both a favor and take the test.”

Donovan was up before sunrise, but Jack was already gone. Dejected, she stared at the rumpled sheets on his bed—rumbled sheets that looked a hell of a lot like her own—and then closed his bedroom door.

She’s hardly slept a wink but somehow had managed to miss him leaving the house. He’d probably gone for a run.

Coco had been curled up at the edge of Jack’s bed but jumped down just in time to run ahead of Donovan, his little tail wagging crazily as he yipped all the way down.

She wandered downstairs, flipping the switch beside the sink and winced as the light flashed on. The beginnings of a headache pushed in on her skull and she sighed, searching for some pain meds in the cupboard. She took a few tablets with a glass of water and barely managed to swallow them. Crap. Seems as if her throat was sore. She so didn’t have time to come down with something, but she wasn’t surprised.

When was the last time she’d had a decent night’s sleep?

A coffee cup was in the sink, and she rinsed it out, wiping it dry and setting it back inside the cupboard, her actions automatic because her brain was so damn fuzzy. She couldn’t get Jack out of her heard.

Couldn’t get the look in his eyes out of her dreams. He really had no feelings left for her. He’d said it last night. He was done.

And Donovan had no idea what to do about it. Did she just let the chips fall where they may? Did she fight for what she wanted? Did she fight for Jack Simon now or was it too late?

She should have fought for him five years ago—fought for their love. Had she really been that weak?

“Derek would have destroyed him,” she whispered fiercely.

But would he have? Had he played Donovan? Would he have exposed the video and those pictures knowing it would end his connection to Jack as well?

“Jesus,” she said, as a wave of nausea rolled over her. It made her sick every time she thought about it. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to blot out the images but couldn’t.

Derek had showed it to her that next morning but all Donovan could take were the first few moments. She was naked. Spread out on the bed that she and Jack shared and Derek was climbing on top of her. She couldn’t remember anything else from that night other than her fight with Jack and him storming out before dinner was over.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said dully. It was too late since Cooper Simon had somehow managed to get his grabby hands on it.

Deciding she’d rather not think about that night, Donovan glanced down at Coco. “Looks like it’s just you and me,” she said to the dog, tugging on the edge of her sleep pants and hiking them up.

Cold, she wrapped her arms around herself and wandered outside, walking the length of the porch that overlooked the lake. Other than the gentle current lapping against the dock, she heard nothing and saw nothing. The Campbell’s cottage was in darkness as were most of the houses that dotted the lake, and in the distance she spied the first rays of pink and yellow creeping over the horizon.

Coco barked and she glanced down. “I guess you’re hungry.”

After rummaging for some dog food, she set down a bowl for Coco and grabbed the pharmacy bag that was still on the kitchen counter from the night before. Her fingers shook a little as she pulled out the small blue and white box. She set it on the counter, worrying her bottom lip as she stared at it.

Should she do the test now? Did she want to know?

Her stomach rolled just thinking about it. She turned the box over in her hands and before she could change her mind, headed up to her room. Donovan grabbed her sweats, running shoes and a ball cap before heading to the bathroom.

She set the box on the sink carefully and got dressed. Once her shoes were pulled on and tied, she brushed her teeth and then braided her hair, listening for Jack’s return. But there was nothing. No Jack and no reason not to do the stupid test.

Why was she still here? He didn’t love her, and she was a fool to think he’d even want to try again. Not after everything.

He doesn’t love me. He will never love me.

She glanced up into the mirror, saw the smudges beneath her eyes, and in spite of her tan, saw the paleness beneath it all. She saw the fear and pain. She saw the guilt.

She was never going to have that happily ever after. Not with Jack and probably not with anyone else. Her story, it seemed, had already been written. She was just too damn stupid, too full of denial to see it. She may as well pull up her big girl pants and deal with the situation once and for all.

“Just do it,” she whispered fiercely. She ripped the box apart and took out the small white device, removing the cellophane wrapper with shaking fingers.

Oh. God. She felt sick.

After reading the instructions, she got down to business, and once she was done, set the stick back onto the counter. The instructions said to wait a full five minutes for the result, and after washing her hands, she left the bathroom. No way was she gonna sit in there and wait.

The sky was lighter now. Dawn was breaking.

Restless, Donovan ran downstairs, and after a few moments of indecision, grabbed a granola bar from the cubby along with a bottle of water. She ran out the door, making sure Coco didn’t follow her and headed up the road.

A walk would do her good. She needed to clear her head and get her shit together. She needed to be strong, because there was no way in hell she could let Jack know that she was still hopelessly in love with him.

Nope. That couldn’t happen.