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?