CHAPTER 9
Jannie
Something was screaming. So was her neck.
Jannie blinked, squinting in the bright light of the Florida sun. Above the boathouse, a red-shouldered hawk zoomed across the sky, screeching at a panicked crow that was trying its best to escape.
She glanced around her, frowning in confusion.
Apparently, she’d slept out here on a chaise cushion she didn’t remember placing on the floor. Out here, with …
Nick.
She sat up, reaching to rub the stiff muscles at her nape.
The crow flapped away, and the hawk glided smoothly to land in the neighbor’s huge southern oak. Peace descended, but not in Jannie’s mind. Everything hit her all at once: she’d let Nick in and, by the end of the evening, she’d gotten much closer than she’d ever intended. She’d also drunk too much.
Alcohol always loosened her lips. What had she said to him last night?
Was he still here?
And where the hell was her dog?
“Rolf!”
Nothing.
If that dog heard her call, he’d be at her feet in moments. She peered inside but saw no one.
Jannie carefully stood, wobbling a little, pressing three fingers to her throbbing forehead. She made her way to the summer kitchen. Turning on the faucet, she splashed cold water on her face, then pulled open the sliding door and stepped inside.
Her nostrils flared at the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. “Rolf!”
Jannie headed toward the staircase behind the kitchen. The black wrought-iron baby gate she always kept closed to prevent him from going to the upstairs guest room was wide open.
She scowled. “Are you up there?”
The next second, her eyes widened, and her lips parted.
Because Nick appeared at the top of the steps.
Shirtless.
A black towel was wrapped around his waist, and even from this distance, she could see that his chest glistened with drops of water. His damp hair was mussed, sticking up in spikes.
She had glimpsed what he looked like shirtless, but the reality of seeing him …
Damn.
“Good morning. I used your shower.”
He said it as if showering at her house were the most natural thing in the world.
“I hope it’s OK,” he added.
Jannie nodded, aware that she should look away but unable to tear her gaze from his half-naked body.
Many men had nice torsos; she knew this from countless trips to the beach.
Nick’s was well-defined and rippled, just as she had expected.
But it was his legs that shocked her, calves so thick and muscular, they looked like sculpted tree trunks.
Briefly, she wondered if what was underneath that towel was as thick as—
A joyful “Boof!” interrupted her rogue thoughts. Rolf raced past Nick and bounded down the stairs. Tail swishing, he jumped the last three steps, nosed Jannie’s thigh, and ran a lap around the kitchen.
“Well, aren’t you in a stellar mood this morning,” Jannie muttered. Lately, he had done nothing but mope. A stab of guilt speared her. These dogs were mood sponges, and she knew his state of mind had everything to do with hers.
“I kept him with me so he wouldn’t bother you. He’s already been out. I took him to the front yard on a leash. And there’s coffee. I hope you like it strong.”
“Thank you,” she uttered, not knowing what to say. She wasn’t used to anyone else making coffee, doing her chores, or even helping, for that matter, and Rolf had been solely her responsibility.
“Uber Eats should show up soon,” Nick said.
“Again?”
“Yeah, I was hungry. Thought you might be too. I looked in your fridge but didn’t see much. Even if I had, trust me, you don’t want me cooking.”
He stood there, looking down at her, and she stared back. It was surreal to have him here.
“Full disclosure.” A tiny smile played about his lips. “I, uh, used some of the stuff you had in the basket. A toothbrush, toothpaste, and the deodorant.”
“Use anything you need. That’s what they’re there for.”
He nodded, then motioned toward the guest room to his right. “I’ll just go put my clothes back on.”
Good idea, that. She’d seen enough, thank you very much.
Nick disappeared from view, but not from her mind. Jannie’s gaze lingered at the top of the stairs as she closed the baby gate, making sure it clicked. “No more going up there, Stinker.”
Beside her, Rolf wagged his tail and made eye contact but suddenly whipped his furry head around and came to attention, ears pointing straight up. He tilted his head to the side, unmoving, listening intently.
“Boof.”
Ah. Probably the Uber Eats delivery person. Rolf could sense people driving up the street long before they reached her driveway.
She double-checked the gate to make sure it was latched. The next second, Rolf left her side, running through the kitchen toward the entrance.
Strangely, he wasn’t barking.
Jannie rounded the corner, and her eyes widened as she watched the entry door swing open, and in walked …
“Blake!” Jannie swallowed back a gasp. A jolt ran through her, making her stomach plummet.
Rolf’s entire body wiggled in greeting, tail swishing enthusiastically.
Blake patted the dog’s head absently, his eyes fixed on Jannie. “Hey.”
She took a small step back. “You just … walked in?”
“Of course I did.” He smirked, his hazel eyes glinting as he held up a key. “It is my house.”
Irritation tightened her throat. Why didn’t I change the locks? “It’s my house now, in case you forgot.”
His smirk turned into a brash smile. “You never had a problem with me coming.”
She tensed at the blatant innuendo.
He shut the door behind him, pausing on the mosaic medallion at the entrance, his gaze taking her in, lingering on her newly flat belly.
She glared at him.
“Oh. Yeah. I forgot.” He started to toe off his shoes.
“Don’t bother.”
“Well, this is new. I can keep my germy shoes on? Are you OK?”
The irony of him asking that question sarcastically instead of sincerely struck her hard. “You’re not staying.”
A cocky smile. “We’ll see about that.”
“What do you want?”
He looked at her with an expression she knew all too well, the one that always broke through her defenses.
“I called. I texted. I even emailed. You didn’t answer. No one would tell me anything. I even went as far as contacting your brothers, even though there’s no love lost between us. What they did tell me was not to contact you.”
“That should have clued you in. I didn’t want to talk to you. Or anyone.”
“Why?” He took a step closer.
Her belly prickled with anxiety, but she raised her chin. “I needed some time.”
“Time. She needed time.” He shook his head. “I would say two months is long enough.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She’d lost two children, his children, and he was talking about it as if she’d misplaced her keys or phone.
“You should have called me,” he said.
“Why?”
“I could have helped.”
“Yeah, right,” she scoffed.
Oh, she knew what his idea of “help” was: what it always had been. And the way his heated gaze wandered over her convinced her he was here for that again; even now, after what had happened, the man hadn’t changed.
“You never were one to wallow, Jannie. And if you were, I could have pulled you out.” His mouth curved into a tiny smile. “Or pulled out, so it couldn’t happen again.”
“It,” she repeated. She couldn’t believe this level of insensitivity. “Well, it is no longer your problem, so you can go ahead and celebrate your freedom from the responsibilities of fatherhood.”
He winced. “That was a shitty thing to say.”
“What about it was incorrect?”
His jaw flexed. “Those were my children, Jannie.”
“Don’t tell me you’re not relieved. Because I won’t believe you.” Which was precisely why she hadn’t answered his calls. While she was devastated, he felt unburdened.
“Had it occurred to you that maybe I changed my mind?”
She thought back to their encounter in Vegas. Her eyes narrowed. “No.”
He sighed. “OK, OK, you got me. But it’s for the best. It really is.”
Jannie stared at him and stiffened at the conviction in his gaze, swallowing hard against the knot that formed in her throat.
He didn’t care.
He really didn’t.
She stood there regarding this man she’d wanted, married, and vowed to love until her death, and wondered how she could have been so very wrong about him.
In two swift steps, he closed the distance between them, gripping her hips and hauling her against him as he had done a thousand times. “We’re still good, aren’t we?”
“No, we’re not.” She tried to wrench away.
But Blake held fast, bending to speak directly in her ear. “Come on. Let me make you feel good. You need it.”
“No.”
“You know you want me. You always do.”
“I don’t.” She tried to pull away, but his hold was implacable.
Rolf gave a sharp bark, trying to wedge himself between them. Still, he didn’t attack Blake. Had it been anyone else manhandling her, he would have.
“Let me go!” she cried, hating how shrill her voice sounded as she struggled to wrench out of his grasp.
“Go? Nah, babe, I’ll let you come. You know that thing I always do with my tongue while—”
“I said let me—”
“Hands off her,” came a frosty voice from behind them. “Unless you never want to grip a yoke again.”
Nick.
She had completely forgotten he was here.
Blake froze. He looked up, blinking. “What the—”
“You have two seconds.”
She felt Nick step up behind her, sensed his unique scent and vibrant energy without even turning around.
Blake’s eyes narrowed. He hesitated momentarily, but whatever he saw made him instantly release her, moving back and raking a hand through his sandy hair.
Oh, but he was pissed. Jannie had never seen such leashed fury.
For a moment, silence reigned, except for Rolf’s stressed panting. The dog leaned into her, and Jannie reached a shaking hand to grasp a soft, pointy ear.
Nick moved to her other side.
Blake clenched his fists, then unclenched them. “Well. I see you have a new fuckboy.”
Jannie felt an arm clamp firmly around her shoulders. She felt hard muscle and heated skin, and realized Nick was still shirtless.
“Turn around and walk out that door like a good boy before I change my mind about not breaking your goddamned fingers,” he said. His voice was steel-wrapped ice.