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Then she sailed out of there like the queen of friggin’ Sheba.
“You two make a perfect couple,” the guy said.
Jack ignored him as he trailed after Davina.
He wondered if he could Google some sort of manual to help him deal with her. They had books on communicating with tribes in Africa, surely someone had something on understanding the modern woman. He saw Davina impatiently waiting beside his car. She tapped her toe rapidly on the pavement. Stuff it. He needed something more specific. He needed a handbook on Davina Davenport.
Davina didn’t say one word all the way back to the house. Jack couldn’t tell if she was fuming or not, she seemed calm enough. So why wasn’t she talking? Women always talked. It was freaking the life out of him. And to make it worse, he had no idea how to start a conversation or what to talk about. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t want to discuss the weather. He clenched and unclenched his fists. He cleared his throat a couple of times hoping that breaking the silence would be enough to make her start talking. Nope. He was still completely stumped when they pulled up at her front door.
Without a sound she got out the car and walked up the steps. She didn’t stomp. She didn’t run. She just walked. Jack rolled down the window to say something, anything, just as Marianne opened the front door.
“Bad night?” she asked Davina.
“You have no freaking idea,” Davy said before slamming the door behind her.
Jack figured she was still mad after all. The only problem was, he had no idea why. He’d saved her. He’d driven her home. What more could he do?
And did he
get a thank you? NO.
Women.
No, not women.
Davy. Just Davy.
He frowned into the darkness all the way home.
Anger bubbled in Jack as he stomped about his flat. He’d saved the crazy woman and all the thanks he got was a huff? Obviously she didn’t understand the danger she was in. He paced his living room like a caged tiger, watching the second hand dance around the clock. With each passing minute he became more indignant. He’d saved her. The least she could do was say thank you. And he knew how to make that happen. He snatched up the folder containing background information on Ken Doll and stormed out of his house. Half an hour later he was back on Millie’s front porch ready to do battle.
“It’s late,” Davina said when she opened the door. “What do you want?”
She didn’t seem pleased to see him. Jack waved the folder under her nose.
“I want you to read this.” He thrust it at her.
She folded her arms and refused to take it. Jack narrowed his eyes. Stubborn woman.
“This details your best friend Derek’s criminal behaviour. You might want to take a look at it before you decide he’s the harmless dweeb and I’m the big bad wolf.”
She folded her arms and smirked at him.
“Trust me, Jack, darling, no matter what that folder says, you’re still the big bad wolf.”
In his mind he force-fed her the paperwork sheet by sheet.
“I don’t understand your problem,” he told her.
“Mainly, it’s you,” she snapped. “I had everything under control and you screwed it up.”
Jack took a step towards her.
“I saved you tonight.”
“You interfered with my life tonight.”
She poked him in the chest to make a point. He grabbed her finger and held it tight. He’d had enough of being pushed around.
