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

“You can let go,” Donovan said slowly.

“What?” Jack bit out, eyes moving over the shiny blond hair that hung past her shoulders in loose waves, the way a woman’s hair should. She was tiny, barely coming to his chest in heels and he felt a powerful urge to scoop her up.

“My hand,” she said again, tugging a bit until he released her. She took a step back, her subtle scent left to linger between them, and jutted her chin out. “What’s going on Jack?”

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“Grace asked me to come and sing.”

“Grace.” Of course. His younger sister’s mission in life was to be a pain in his butt.

Donovan smiled, a slow kind of thing that didn’t spread to her eyes. No way in hell. Those glittered like cold chips of blue ice.

“Grace likes my music, and I’ve always had a soft spot for her. We’ve kept in touch.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t say no.”

“Bullshit.” Jack tugged on his tie so hard the top button of his dress shirt popped off. He yanked the offending piece of silk from his neck and stuffed it into the front pockets of his slacks.

This was all wrong. All of it. What was he doing dancing this dance with Donovan? There was nothing between them but a pile of hurt, and from his perspective, that pile wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“You’re right,” she answered taking a step closer to him. “I’m not here just because of Grace. I had another reason to come.”

For several long moments, he stared down at her, watching the play of shadows across her face.

“Are you going to share that one with me?” he asked, his voice a little thicker than he’d like to admit.

Long wisps of hair danced in the evening breeze as those eyes continued to regard him in silence. She licked her bottom lip and damn if he didn’t feel a stirring of lust well up inside him. Some things never changed, and this woman had always tapped into that He-Man part of him. The part that wanted nothing more than to bend her over the table to their right, so that he could bury himself inside her.

“I’m here for Cooper.”

Wait. What?

“Cooper,” he repeated, all thoughts of lust fleeing as he glared at the woman in front of him. A woman who used to belong to him but now….

“You’re here for my cousin?” Something dark and heavy swirled inside him, and Jack clenched his hands into fists.

Donovan nodded. “You know what they say, Jack.”

“No,” he managed to spit out. “I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

Donovan’s eyes flashed. “Well you should since y’all fed those lies to the rags. The ones that said I’m nothing but a….” She cocked her head to the side, chest heaving and for a moment, he caught a glimpse of something painful.

“They said I was nothing but a man-eater intent on making my way through the Simon clan. I think one of the stories said I, uh, liked a different man every night.”

“Donnie,” he said, feeling like a shit for the first time.

“Don’t call me that,” she said, chin up.

For a moment, there was silence, and then she spoke, her voice full of smoke and whiskey. “I guess it doesn’t matter that the only Simon I’ve ever had is the one who makes no bones about the fact that I’m beneath him. Did you tell your people to spread those nasty things? What was it your press guy said? Ridiculous notion?” She shrugged and mimicked his press guy perfectly. “The up-and-coming senator-to-be and the white trash country singer from Arkansas. Now there’s a hit song if I ever heard one.”

“Donovan,” he said roughly. His throat was tight, and the urge to hit something was getting stronger by the minute. He’d stopped that shit as soon as the stories started spiraling out of control. He’d not authorized a pack of lies, and he’d fired the person who’d spread them.

But Donovan was done, and he never got the chance to explain. She slipped past Jack and just before disappearing inside the venue, she gave him one parting shot. “Thing is darlin’, I’ve decided that I don’t mind having myself another Simon or two, and Cooper will do just fine.”

Moments ticked by. Moments where Jack didn’t see anything but black, because the anger inside him was that strong. He didn’t move for a long time. Not until he heard her voice, that raspy, whisky soaked voice that slid across skin and leeched into bone. She was singing, and though he couldn’t make out the words, the notes were all minor. Sad notes. Melancholy notes.

“You okay?” Tucker asked quietly from the shadows. Jack must really be off his game because he hadn’t heard his brother approach.

“Not even close,” he replied.

Tucker just nodded. “You want to bail? I’ll come up with an excuse.”

Jack couldn’t lie. The thought was tempting, but he shook his head. “Nah, I’ll be fine.”

He squared his shoulders and followed Tucker back inside.

Donovan James should have refused Grace Simon’s request to perform at the fundraiser. In fact she had, but Grace was a persistent young woman and called again and again and again. She’d eventually worn Donovan down and finally she’d given in and agreed to come to Florida.

What in hell had she been thinking? Oh. Right. She
hadn’t
been thinking and just like her mama liked to say, if you don’t use your brain first, nothing falls into place. Donovan knew that if this blew up in her face, she had no one to blame but herself. And let’s face it, things usually had a way of getting out of hand when she acted without thinking.

Born under a full moon on a Friday the 13
^th
in October, things had been blowing up in her face for as long as she could remember.

Sweet Jesus, but she shouldn’t have taken Grace’s call the week before.

Except it was hard for her to refuse Grace Simon anything. And even harder to stay away from Jack, something that had been building since she’d run into him a few months back. She’d gone, what, five years without contact? Five years without touching him or seeing him or even hearing his voice. And then one night, one wrong and stupid night had blown everything to shit, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Couldn’t stop remembering the feel of him. The smell of him. The way the corners of his eyes crinkled when she made him laugh. Or the way they would darken and smolder when he was inside her.

The ache that had been lingering for days, weeks, (months if she was being honest) rattled and hummed, making it hard to breathe. Would it ever go away? Would she ever be free of Jack Simon? Of a life that wasn’t meant to be?

A groan slid from her mouth as she rested her head against the cool concrete wall. She’d hightailed it out of the grand ballroom as soon as she’d sung her last note and had been nursing a glass of whiskey for the last ten minutes. She couldn’t hide out here on the patio forever—she knew that—but she could at least get her shit together before facing Jack again.

God, why the hell had she mentioned Cooper Simon? That little white lie was going to bite her in the ass. She could feel it.

Get a grip, Donnie.

Okay, she would act like nothing mattered, especially the Simons—as if she was only here for a good time. That’s what the press liked to believe anyway, so why not act the part? She’d been doing a pretty good job of it for the last five years.

A cool breeze swept in from the ocean, and she closed her eyes, letting the quiet Florida night wash over her. Donovan wasn’t sure how long she stood there, eyes closed, listening to the night sounds around her, so when she heard a voice, she jumped and spilled whiskey down the front of her dress.

“Shit,” she muttered, eyes flying open as she gazed into the dark, a few more curse words coloring the night as she narrowed her eyes.

“Well, hell, darlin’ that doesn’t sound real lady-like.” Cooper Simon stepped forward, a slow wicked grin on his handsome face.

Relief flooded her. It wasn’t Jack. Thank God. She wasn’t ready for him yet. Hell, at this point she wasn’t exactly sure what she was ready for, but for the most part Cooper Simon was harmless. So she’d told Jack a small fib. It was only meant to divert him from the fact that Jack was the reason she was here.

Cooper and Donovan had never exactly been friends, but then they’d never exactly been enemies either. She knew he wasn’t a fan, he’d made that more than clear the last time she’d seen him with Maverick, but she could handle him.

“I’m no lady, and you know it,” she quipped lightly, opting for flirtation over confrontation.

“According to some people, I know more than I should about you,” Cooper replied, that soft southern drawl rolling under his words. It was a lot different than the harsher twang of Donovan’s folk, and the first time she’d heard Jack Simon speak, she’d been pretty much done for. The Simon clan might call Florida home, but they’d never given up their southern Louisiana roots.

Dabbing at her expensive Armani, Donovan glanced up sharply. “Excuse me?”

His smile deepened. The man was womanizer. He was also breathtaking and dangerous and sexy as hell, and a whole list of things any sane woman should stay away from. The only problem being, all of those things were what most women wanted.

Too bad such a nice package would always bite a girl in the ass.

Thankfully such a nice package did nothing for her.

“I just had an interesting chat with my cousin,” he said slowly.

“You did.” Shit. Here we go.

“I did.”

“And I care because?”

“Well for starters, you were the topic of conversation.”

Her heart was beating faster and faster. “Interesting,” she managed to say without sounding like an idiot.

He nodded. “Yeah. Real interesting.”

“Huh,” Donovan said, pushing away from the wall. “What’s on Jack’s mind?”

Cooper slid his hands into the front pockets of his pants. “Now why would you think I was talking about Jack? There’s a boatload of Simons in there. I could have been talking to Beau or Tucker or…”

“What did Jack say?” she asked softly, a hint of danger in her voice.

Cooper watched her for a few moments. “What game are you playing Donovan? I sure as hell don’t know you in the carnal sense. Sloppy seconds aren’t my style.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.”

“People change.”

“Do they? Or do they just lie to themselves?”

“You tell me.”

“Not in the mood for a big ol’ deep discussion tonight, thanks.”

She shrugged, trying to make light of things, but her smile faded when she saw the look in Cooper’s eyes. No longer were they light or playful. There wasn’t a shred of anything that looked remotely friendly. Nope. This Simon was all business and just like before, all those years ago, this Simon’s disgust was palpable.

“Jack seems to think that you and I are together or at the very least fucking each other.”

Donovan winced at his crude choice of words, though she was careful to keep her face neutral. She couldn’t have Cooper Simon thinking that she actually cared what he thought. That just wouldn’t do.

“And?” she asked lightly. She moved forward a few inches until she was real close to Cooper. “That’s what’s got your boxers all tied up in knots? Last I heard, you were as selfish and self-centered as ever. Last I
remember,
you screwed your own brother’s girlfriend.” She allowed herself to smile. “More than one of them, if the rumors are true. I’m surprised Maverick still talks to you.”

He laughed, though it didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “Last I
remember,
you screwed Jack’s best friend.”

Donovan’s blood went cold, and she felt the tick, the one near her mouth, begin to throb. Oh God, she was going to lose it. There was a roaring in her ears and for a second, the world sort of tilted to the side.

Images flashed in her mind, and she felt bile rise up. No one knew about that night, not even Maverick.

No one knew.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she managed to get out.

Cooper bent real close so that his mouth was near her face. She was sure he could hear her heart nearly beating out of her chest. “I know all about it. Your night with Derek. Son-of-a-bitch showed me some pictures. I hear there’s video too but I couldn’t stomach watching it.”

“I…I…how…” She gulped in some air and glanced away, cheeks burning, flushed with mortification and pain and a whole bunch of other stuff she couldn’t name if she wanted to.

“Does it really matter?” Cooper asked.

“No,” she whispered, more to herself. No one was ever supposed to see any of it. She heard something break and was vaguely aware that the tumbler of whiskey had slipped from her hand.

“I’m going to make this real plain and simple for you so that you completely understand where I’m coming from. Jack is like a brother to me, and if you think that any of us are going to let you get your claws into him again, you’re delusional. That’s never going to happen. He’s got a good thing going. He’s running for a congressional senate seat and he’s got this one locked up. Jack’s our golden boy, and you’re no good for him, Donovan. You never were.”

She blinked rapidly and exhaled, because there was no way in hell she would cry in front of Cooper Simon.

The thing of it was…she knew that Cooper spoke the truth. As much as that was a bitter pill to swallow, she’d always known. How else had she ended up in that mess five years ago? A mess that cost her the only man she’d ever loved.

“If I so much as catch a whiff of you and him…of the idea of you and him getting back together, I’ll show him the tape and then I’ll release it to the press.”

“You wouldn’t.” Horrified, her eyes flew to Cooper’s. “It was destroyed,” she said hoarsely. “He said he would…Derek told me that as long as I stayed away he’d destroy it.”

Cooper shook his head and stepped back from her. “The guy might be a brilliant political mind, but he’s an asshole. I’m sure he watched it over and over just to get his rocks off. I wish Jack could see through his bullshit. Not that it matters anymore, since I’ve got the thumb drive.”

Words couldn’t describe what she was feeling just then. In fact there were none.

She wanted to die, knowing that Cooper had seen her and Derek…that he’d seen her naked and vulnerable and doing things that no one else should ever see. If Jack ever saw it…