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It Takes Two

Page 19

by Sheridon Smythe


  Dennis in particular.

  He strode determinedly to the phone. “You think I won't call her?” he challenged.

  When he turned around, Dennis was in the cage. The door was closed and latched.

  Zack's heart softened at the sight of his big, brown eyes staring at him through the cage door. He walked to him and hunkered down. “I wouldn't have called her, you big dope.” Sighing, he reached through the bars and scratched the monkey's head. “No offense, buddy, but I'm just not cut out for this monkey business. Besides, you probably belong to someone. I was just your temporary babysitter."

  Feeling like the biggest heel in history, Zack hefted the cage and headed for the door. By the time he reached his vehicle, he was having serious second thoughts. What would happen to Dennis? What if the monkey missed him and refused to eat?

  What would Justine think? Surely she would understand that he couldn't continue babysitting the monkey? Since the flooding, Zack had come home to a different disaster each evening; amazing what a monkey could do with a single black magic marker. It had taken him two hours to remove the scribbling from the pristine white walls.

  On Thursday evening, it was toothpaste and shaving cream on the ceiling. Saturday morning, Zack's sleep was interrupted by the shrill beeping of the smoke alarm. He emerged from his bedroom to find Dennis racing madly around the room, shrieking and babbling, and the decorative stove top coverings on the range rapidly turning black.

  The monkey had switched on the electric stove burners. Granted, none of these disasters matched the flooding—well, the near-fire was close—but they had been irritating all the same.

  Shaking his head at the memories, Zack put the cage in the back seat and slid behind the wheel. He'd meant to give Justine a little breathing space, hoping she'd come to miss him, but he couldn't face another day with Dennis the Menace. His nerves were shot—not to mention his apartment.

  He and the monkey just didn't click.

  Justine would understand.

  "Why are you so nervous?” Reuben whispered urgently the moment Justine walked from the room. He knew she would be back any second; the mortal had been in a frenzy of movement all day, distracted and edgy. She'd hardly given them a glance.

  Mini flashed him a startled look. “Me? Nervous?” she squeaked out. “I'm not nervous."

  "Yes you are. You haven't taken your eyes off that door since three o'clock."

  "I'm just watching for Jordan. He's late.” Her gaze returned to the door.

  "Is there something you're not sharing with me?” Reuben persisted, sidling closer. Like Justine, his wife had been edgy and distracted. Now that he thought about it, she hadn't been herself for a few days.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I'm talking about a plan. Do you have a plan that you're not sharing with me?” No response. He had to nudge her just to get her attention. “Mini?"

  "Hmm?"

  The blank look she gave him made his tiny heart flutter in alarm. “What's wrong with you? You're acting strange.” That got her attention, he noted, watching her eyes widen.

  "Strange? No, nothing strange going on.” Her words came too quickly. “I'm just worried about how things will turn out. With Justine and Zack, I mean."

  "So you're watching for Jordan because you're worried about Zack and Justine?” he drawled sardonically. Before his wife could answer, Jordan came in, bringing with him the smell of impending snow.

  He was whistling a jaunty tune.

  Well, well, well, Reuben thought, the young mortal appears to have gotten over his rotten spell.

  Mini leaned forward eagerly. “Did you find the book?"

  Jordan glanced carefully around before approaching the cage. “Yes, I found it,” he whispered.

  "Put it on her desk, then. I'll look over it after Justine locks up for the night."

  Reuben frowned. He had an uneasy feeling he was missing something. “Mini, what are you blathering about?"

  "I ask Jordan to pick up a book from the library, darling,” she said with an airy wave of her wing. “It's a book about birds. I think we should learn more about them since we're using their bodies."

  "Not by choice,” Reuben muttered, still suspicious. “That's all it is?"

  Mini blinked innocently. “What else could it be?"

  To Mini's great relief, the door opened to admit a customer.

  Only it wasn't just any customer, she realized, eyes widening; it was Zack. She poked Reuben with her wing and whispered beneath her breath. “He's got the monkey with him! What are we going to do?"

  "Leave it to me,” Reuben mumbled.

  Jordan turned to greet Zack, waving his hand as if he were greeting an old friend. Mini groaned. She smelled trouble—trouble the young mortal didn't need considering what Zack suspected about him.

  But then, Jordan didn't know. She and Reuben had decided not to share the information with him unless it was absolutely necessary.

  "Hey, Coach. Let me guess; having a little monkey trouble?"

  At the sound of his jeering laughter, Mini groaned and buried her head in her wing.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Nineteen

  "Hello, Jordan."

  At the sound of Zack's deep, knee-weakening voice, Justine stopped in her tracks. She edged back out of sight around the doorway to give herself time to gather her defenses.

  Her heart beat heavily. It was longing, she forced herself to admit—reluctantly. She'd missed the sound of his sexy voice, the look of his heated, loving glances, the smell of his crisp, clean male scent. But most of all she missed the sight of his gorgeous, broad-shouldered frame and his intoxicating hazel eyes.

  The memory of their frantic lovemaking filled her dreams—when she did sleep—and intruded on her waking moments as well. If only she could trust him. If only he loved her as she loved him. But sadly, she knew with Zachary, love was nothing more than glorified lust. Here today, gone tomorrow.

  She thought—wisely knowing it was best—when she didn't hear from him after declaring their incredible lovemaking a mistake, he must have accepted her decision. So what was he doing here now? she wondered.

  One way to find out.

  Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the room. Her gaze traveled quickly, hungrily over Zack, then fell to the cage he grasped in his hand. A pair of big brown eyes set in a snowy white face peered from between the bars.

  The monkey. He was here to return the monkey. Now that she'd put an end to his games, he no longer felt the need to impress her by pretending to care for the monkey—pretend being the operative word.

  Jordan had been right.

  Disappointment swiftly turned to resentment. If she'd harbored any doubts about his sincerity, she didn't now.

  She hid the hurt that had no business existing behind a mask of polite indifference. Inside she ached. This was the end, then. He was returning the monkey—cutting his losses. Never mind the feigned apology in his eyes. It wasn't real just as his show of love had not been real. He had tried to lure her into his cruel clutches again, and he had failed. She had remained strong, so why didn't she feel exuberant?

  Go figure.

  "Coach is here with the monkey,” Jordan explained, his knowing gaze as sharp and painful as an arrow through Justine's heart. “Since he can't get into your—"

  His voice suddenly failed him. Justine watched his lips move, but no sound emerged. He rubbed his throat, casting a frightened glance at the lovebirds.

  Frowning, Justine followed his line of vision. Reuben stared straight ahead, but Mini was glaring at her mate, her feathers bristling in a threatening manner. Justine supposed she should separate the two. Perhaps they were attempting to breed. She'd read that lovebirds could become quite hostile during the mating cycle.

  Justine stepped forward, baffled. “Jordan, is something wrong? Are you choking?"

  Jordan shook his head frantically, his eyes huge and fearful. “No,” he croaked. “I'm fine."

 
"You don't sound fine."

  "I am, I am.” Again he darted a glance at the lovebirds.

  With a bewildered shake of her head, she finally directed her attention to the reason for her current misery: Zachary Wayne, hunk extraordinaire, playboy, and heartbreaker.

  The challenge slipped out uncensored. “Bored with him already?"

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Justine's eyes narrowed. For the moment, she forgot they weren't alone—and forgot she didn't want him to know that she hurt. “Poor Dennis. I know how he feels."

  "Why don't you enlighten me, then?” he demanded in a soft, angry voice. “Because I don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

  "I'm talking about the monkey. You're bringing him back, aren't you?"

  Zack finally began to comprehend her meaning, and didn't much like it. “You think I'm bringing Dennis back because I'm bored with him?” He uttered an incredulous laugh. “This monkey is anything but boring, believe me. He's very artistic—with magic markers, toothpaste, and shaving cream. Want your chair re-upholstered? He can do that, too. Or part of it, anyway. How about a cooking lesson?” Zack smiled with grim satisfaction as dismay replaced the chill in her eyes. “He can make a fine batch of burner covers—if you like them well done, that is. At least I know my smoke alarms work."

  "He did all of that?” she asked.

  "Oh, there's more. Dennis has aspirations to become a pitcher, too. I've been hit by so many apples, oranges, and pears that my head feels like a corny commercial for Fruit of the Loom.” With great effort, he ignored Jordan's muffled snicker. His patience was just about at an end with the younger Diamond; and right now there was very little in reserve for the love of his life.

  "Why didn't you keep him in the cage while you were gone?"

  "Because I couldn't catch him.” When she glanced at the cage where the monkey sat calmly regarding them, he added, “I got him in there today by threatening to call Melissa over with a tranquilizer shot.” Her arched brow made him flush. “Well, whether he understood or not, he got in the cage."

  Jordan spoke up, his obvious enjoyment skittering across Zack's jumpy nerves like the sound of nails on a chalk board.

  "Uh, Coach Wayne? I don't think putting Dennis in his cage would have worked anyway."

  Zack swung around with an impatient growl. “What—"

  There wasn't any need to finish his question. Dennis launched himself into Zack's arms with enough force to make him stagger. The monkey chattered softly, as if greeting an old friend, winding his arms around Zack's neck and laying his head lovingly against his shoulder.

  It was the first real contact with the monkey since the fateful day he'd come into the shop and Dennis leaped from the light fixture into his arms. Bewildered, Zack automatically closed his arms around the monkey.

  This was beyond weird.

  Gone was the wild, hyperactive primate that had made his life a living hell these past seven days. The loving monkey was back, and making him look like a whining, lying fool.

  One glance at Justine's derisive face and he knew he was in trouble. Monkey trouble. She had folded her arms and was tapping her foot expectantly. Waiting for him to confess? He glanced at Jordan, fully expecting the kid to be wearing a huge smug grin.

  He was grinning, but he wasn't looking at Zack and the monkey. Nor was he watching Justine; he staring at the lovebirds.

  Zack suddenly recalled Jordan's fantastic story about the lovebirds placing a spell on the monkey. If he didn't know better, he'd almost believe it. The monkey's abrupt personality change certainly demanded some type of explanation.

  "Look, I know this looks bad, but I swear this monkey hates me.” Zack hated the desperate sound of his voice.

  "Of course he does,” Justine drawled scathingly. “No need to convince me—I can see that he does. Besides, we both know that Dennis isn't your responsibility."

  She met his eyes for a brief, chilly moment. Something flickered, something so brief and elusive Zack wasn't sure he hadn't imagined it.

  It looked suspiciously like hurt.

  "And we both know why you're bringing him back,” she concluded.

  Zack wished the hell he knew. She obviously didn't believe his explanation. He ground his teeth in frustration. If he didn't have a monkey in his arms...

  Without fear, she reached out and tugged on the monkey.

  He refused to budge, whimpering pitifully.

  Why was he not surprised? And why was she hurt because he wanted to return the monkey? Figuring he'd never understand the workings of a woman's mind, he let out a heavy sigh and said, “I don't think he's going to let go."

  "I'll call Melissa,” she said, stepping around him.

  Dennis shrieked and tried to merge with Zack's coat. When the ringing in Zack's ear faded, he turned with the monkey in his arms, stopping Justine before she reached her office. “No, don't."

  She paused. “Don't call her?"

  Zack hesitated. He might have changed his mind again if it wasn't for that sweet, tiny note of hope he heard in her voice.

  Why was it so important to her that he keep the monkey? The answer continued to elude him, and until he knew he couldn't risk alienating her further.

  Mentally calling himself a fool, he said, “I'll keep him a while longer."

  She remained paused with her back to him, her shoulders stiff and squared. “Are you certain?"

  She wanted assurance? Zack asked himself, amazed. She expected him to sound excited about taking this hellion monkey home again? Hell, she was lucky he'd gotten the words out at all! Especially with the choke-hold the monkey had on him.

  He figured somewhere along the way he'd have to draw the line on just how far he'd go to win her back; he never in his wildest dreams—and he'd had plenty of those—figured a monkey would be the cause. “Have you tried to contact his owner?” he asked as he eased into a squatting position before the cage. Jordan jumped to his aid and opened the cage door, still grinning like a fool. Wary of his motives, Zack managed to mumble an ungracious thanks.

  "I've left a message for Kewan at Bishop's, but he hasn't returned my call."

  Zack tugged on the monkey's arms. Dennis reluctantly eased his hold and allowed Zack to set him inside the cage. With a sigh of relief, Zack stood and faced Justine. She'd returned to the counter. “Bishop's?"

  "It's a delivery service. Kewan freelances for them."

  "Can't you just tell the company about the mistake and ask them to send a truck?” He thought he'd done a terrific job hiding his dismay until he saw her frown. He tried a more diplomatic approach. “Surely someone is expecting Dennis somewhere?"

  "Probably.” She shrugged. “But that somewhere could be anywhere. Kewan delivers in several states. He's the only one who can straighten out this mess, so we'll have to wait until he calls."

  Zack dreaded to ask. “And how long do you think that will be?"

  "I don't know. We have a truck due Wednesday, but it might not be Kewan."

  It took a lot of effort, but Zack managed to contain his agonized groan until he reached his truck.

  After Zack and the monkey left, Justine stood at the counter, tapping her nails and staring at the door. Was she being too hard on him? she wondered, suffering a spat of delayed guilt. If Dennis was the menace Zack claimed... On the other hand, she had only his word, and why would she believe a man who had convinced her she was the only woman in the world, only to abandoned her?

  Justine's face burned. He'd almost had her believing him again. She knew better. She damn well knew better. Zack wanted to shuck the monkey as heartlessly as he'd shucked her, only he didn't want it to appear too obvious. Solution? Invent imaginative horror stories and good ole gullible Justine would believe them, feel sorry for poor put-upon Zack.

  Right.

  To think that for a moment she had suspected Jordan. Not only foolish of her, but insane. Jordan clearly disliked Zack, and cleaning Zack's apartment was the last thing she would find
him doing. If not for Barry's dubious testimony, she might believe the flooded, floured apartment was yet another one of Zack's fabricated stories.

  Like Zack's call for help.

  She drummed her fingers harder on the counter, wishing she'd called his bluff and turned the van around when he made the suggestion. What would he have done if she had? What lie would he have convinced her of if she'd gone back to the jail and asked them if Zack made his call?

  Of course Zack had made the call.

  What was she doing, trusting such a devious man with a frightened animal like Dennis? Justine's fingers slowed their drumming, then stopped as an image of Zack and the monkey came to her mind. She knew all right. She knew very well. The monkey loved Zack, and although he tried to hide the fact, Zack was fond of the monkey, too. She noticed the way the hard planes of his face softened when he held the monkey, and there wasn't a shred of doubt about Dennis's feelings for Zack. Justine worked with animals, and she knew they could sense when humans were nervous or disliked them.

  The monkey trusted Zack.

  Justine frowned. It appeared Thor and Rogue had fallen beneath his spell, as well. She had once upon a time, and yes, she still loved him, but he wouldn't bewitch her again.

  Jordan had grabbed a broom and was sweeping the floor in front of the counter, head bent, apparently giving the chore his undivided attention. On impulse, Justine grabbed the moving broom handle.

  Jordan jerked in surprise. “What—"

  "Barry said that he saw you near Zack's apartment last Tuesday night,” Justine blurted out quickly, deliberately changing the in to near. The near would probably induce scorn; the in would most likely make him explode.

  Jordan looked at her in amazement. When he nearly collapsed against the broom handle laughing, Justine let out a tiny sigh of relief. Of course Barry had lied, just as Zack had lied. She could easily understand Zack's motive, but what about Barry's?

  Zack and Barry were clearly enemies.

  "What a creep! Am I ever glad you wised up about him.” Still chuckling, Jordan paused to wipe his eyes before sending the broom into motion again. “What does he do, hover around with his door cracked, spying on Coach Wayne?"

 

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