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“How’s the foot?”
Jack tossed his empty beer into the cooler and glanced at Donovan. Her long hair was tied back, her face free of makeup. Her days here had given her a golden glow, and he was struck by how feminine and fresh she looked. Truthfully, she didn’t look a day past five years ago.
“It’s fine.”
That damn book was still in her hands, held in front of her face like a shield, the same place it had been every single time he’d looked her way.
“Maybe I should take a look at it.” He was goading her but couldn’t seem to help himself.
“Nope. All good.”
Huh. She was as prickly as a porcupine. Jack supposed he should just leave well enough alone, but he couldn’t. Her little slip up earlier had been on his mind for the past few hours.
“I’d have to have sex to be pregnant.”
Seems as if he wasn’t the only one not getting laid these days, and that made him think of all sorts of things that he shouldn’t be thinking about. He knew the sexual chemistry between them was still there. That was something they’d never lost. It was simmering beneath the surface, and if not handled properly, it would explode.
Hell if she asked him what he’d seen out in the water he wouldn’t be able to answer her because truthfully, all he’d seen were images of her naked and wet, mouth bruised from his, legs open and ready.
He wanted her. Plain and simple. With two days to go, that was pretty fucking inconvenient.
No way was he going there with her. At this point, Jack wasn’t sure either one of them would survive a second go in the bedroom. From day one, they’d had a volatile relationship. They loved and then they hurt and then they made up. He supposed it was inevitable that it had ended so badly.
> That last argument had been ugly, and they’d both said some things. Jack had left, pissed off and freaked out by the depth of his feelings for her. A woman who drove him crazy and a woman who was as stubborn as he was. Tucker had talked him down from that one. Told him that it was normal to feel as if you were losing everything when you were gaining the world. It was the universe’s way of keeping you humble.
When he’d come back to his beach house the next day, she was gone. Derek was still there, his buddy had been on hand for the entire ugly thing, and he’d handed Jack the Dear John letter and a stiff scotch.
Fuck it. Time to leave and think of something else.
Jack got to his feet and packed up the cooler. She’d eaten the sandwich he’d made, and he noted the chocolate bar was gone, too. The beer however, she’d left for him.
“I’m heading up to the house.”
“Okay,” she replied, nose still in that damn book. Her back was ramrod straight, and he knew that she was about as far from relaxed as they were from mainland Belize.
He wasn’t sure what her deal was, but Jack was done trying to figure that shit out.
An hour later, he had veggies and steak grilling on the barbecue, and he’d opened a bottle of red wine. It was a Malbec from the south of France and one he was going to enjoy even if he drank the entire bottle himself.
He had two more days to go and somewhere between chopping peppers and onions, he decided that the only way to get through it was to at least attempt some sort of normalcy.
After all. They were adults. Adults with a past, mind you, but it was time to get over it and move on.
“Wow. That smells…wonderful.”
He’d just come back into the house from the patio and turned at the sound of her voice. Just like that, a bolt of energy slid through his body.
Yeah. The whole moving on thing was going to be hard but hey, Jack was always up for a challenge.
Donovan’s hair was loose, falling down her back in golden waves. The ends were damp and he realized she’d showered and changed because the simple dress she wore was new. Halter style, it emphasized her breasts and fell several inches above her knee in a brush of soft pink.
It was feminine and totally Donovan. She must have snuck in when he was outside on the patio.
He, however, was still in his board shorts and hadn’t bothered with a shirt. He hadn’t showered either and couldn’t remember the last time he’d bothered to shave.
“I’ll set the table,” she said inching toward the kitchen.
“Already done. Set up on the patio.”
