Jack’s people had immediately put their own spin on the pictures and the story, telling the media that he and Donovan, though a couple years ago, were definitely not involved. Their past was just that, the past, and had no bearing on the present.
That night had been wrong from start to finish.
Jack had ended up at the nightclub with a crowd he didn’t usually hang with, including a few up-and-comers in the Democratic party. The place was buzzing because Donovan James was in the house. And damn, but she was more than a little drunk. The girl could handle her whiskey just fine, but he’d seen her sucking back wine like it was water. Why else would she have rubbed herself all over him like a cat?
One look at her, and he knew trouble was coming if he didn’t get her the hell out of that club. They’d been broken up for years, but she still managed to tug on that over-protective streak inside him. There’d been stories that had managed to penetrate his cocoon. Out-of-control partying, fights with her manager (who also happened to be her mother), and love affairs gone bad.
Jack was pretty sure fifty percent of it was bullshit, but still it didn’t help that she seemed so goddamn small and vulnerable.
She’d come to the club with some second string movie actress known more for snorting lines than saying them—and no security. After she tried to kiss Jack for the second time, he’d taken her outside, and they’d grabbed a cab, though Donovan had passed out before they made it back to her hotel. Once she was safe in her room, he’d called his cousin Maverick. The two were close and he knew that Rick would look after her..
He and Donovan were no good for each other. Hell, the only thing they were good at was sex and fighting, and he’d outgrown that kind of relationship years ago.
That was it. End of story.
Yet as he stared into eyes so blue they looked as if the sky was captured inside them, he had to wonder if it was the end of the story after all.
She’d called him the next day, but by the time he’d gotten the message, she’d already cleared out of the hotel and was headed back to LA. Jack had left it at that, figuring Donovan James was a can of worms he could do without opening. He didn’t have time to deal with something that would only bite him in the ass.
She arched a brow at him. “So how’s your lady friend, Monique? I don’t see her here.”
“We’re not friends anymore.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Isn’t it.”
Tucker’s fiancé, Abby Mathews joined them at the bar just then, a smile on her face as she slipped into his brother’s embrace. “What’s up?” she asked.
Maybe her words were the catalyst that moved Jack forward, or maybe it was the fact that the guy who’d been all over Donovan moments earlier was heading their way. Whatever it was, he was pretty damn sure that Donovan was just as surprised as Jack was when he took that step and grabbed her hand.
The fundraiser was being held at the Beach House Golf and Country Club in the keys and Jack led her out back to the gardens that overlooked the ninth green.
It was humid and he tugged at his tie irritably. What the hell was he doing?
“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.