What had she expected? By kicking Jordan from the team, Zack had taken away his greatest joy and if she wasn't mistaken, had put a considerable dent in Jordan's pride as well. She could hardly blame him for being upset, could she? Her nephew believed he'd been treated unfairly, and until she had proof otherwise, she would continue to believe the same.
Until she had proof? Justine frowned. Was she, then, considering Zack had cause to kick Jordan from the team? Just the thought made her feel disloyal. Yet she couldn't forget the look on his face when she asked him about it...a look that had said, “You don't know the whole story.” Jordan interrupted her disturbing thoughts, the taunt in his voice unmistakable. She half expected his lip to curl in a sneer.
"Hey, Coach Wayne, did the monkey scare you that bad?"
His scornful laugh made Justine want to pinch him. She didn't have to follow the line of his gaze to know that he had noticed the stain on Zack's jeans and had drawn his own gleeful conclusions.
Apparently she'd misread his expression when she first saw him. Jordan wasn't frightened; he was angry. Angry enough to insult his football coach, and possibly destroy his chances of getting back on the team. Not only did she feel dismay at the possibility, she felt a surge of irritation on Zack's behalf. Her reprimand came out sharper than she intended. “Jordan!"
"It's okay.” Zack curled his fingers around her arm and gave it a warning squeeze. He held Jordan's defensive gaze as he explained, “The monkey had an accident while I was holding him, but I have to admit he did scare the hell out of me."
Although Justine didn't understand why Zack was bothering to explain, she was grateful for his patience. Before anything further could be said, she jumped into the breach. “Jordan, would you mind watching the store for a few moments? I think Chris is checking our supplies in the storeroom."
He shrugged his wide, boyish shoulders. “Guess I can. Are you going with him?"
He knows, Justine realized suddenly. He knows about Zack and me and he's furious. It explained why he was behaving badly, but she couldn't excuse his surly attitude. Zack had entered the store as a customer; he deserved a little respect.
Coolly, she said, “As a matter of fact, I am. He needs to get dry or he'll catch pneumonia."
She chose to ignore his snort, grabbing Zack's arm and hustling him from the store. However much she loved her nephew, she wasn't about to let him run her life or make her feel guilty for a simple act of kindness. Besides, if Zack hadn't come into the store, they might all still be standing around wondering how they were going to get the monkey down from the light fixture.
For some reason, the monkey had taken to Zack.
Still puzzling over this amazing fact, Justine unlocked her door and entered her apartment. Zack followed. From the corner of her eye she saw him cast a wary glance around the empty living room. She couldn't resist a chuckle. “They're as frightened of you as you are of them."
"That's because I have my shoes on,” he muttered.
When he removed his coat, Justine did the same, hanging them on a shaky wooden coat rack behind the door.
"I'll get the hair dryer. I think there's an outlet by the couch, if you want to have a seat."
Zack stayed by the door for a moment, taking a good look at the worn, comfortable sofa. Next, he craned his neck and glanced in the kitchen. No sign of a lizard, a cat, or a calico snake. Or was it a rainbow boa? He couldn't remember. Bracing himself, he eased cautiously onto the sofa.
He hadn't been still more than a few seconds when his eye caught a movement under the chair—the one place he hadn't looked. He cursed silently as the brilliantly colored snake uncoiled from its hiding place beneath the chair and began to slither across the floor in his direction. A slim pink tongue flickered in and out, almost hypnotizing in its rhythm.
The boa had nearly reached his legs when Zack felt sharp claws dig into his shoulders. Rogue the cat, he presumed, bracing himself for the pain.
But the cat didn't stay on his shoulder long. With an arching, graceful leap Zack couldn't help but admire, the cat landed on floor in front of the snake, effectively blocking its path. Squeeze didn't look too happy about the interruption. The snake recoiled with an angry hiss, its triangle-shaped head swaying back and forth.
Rogue held his ground, batting at the snake until it apparently decided the bounty wasn't worth the battle. With a smooth motion, it turned and slithered in the direction of the kitchen. Zack didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until the snake was a safe distance away. With a soft explosion, he let it out, only to suck it back in again as Thor came waddling around the corner of the sofa. His dorsal crest of soft spines added to his fierce appearance.
The iguana dug his evil-looking claws into the cushions and climbed onto the couch with slow, cumbersome movements, pausing once to give Zack an unblinking stare that set his teeth on edge. Where in the hell was Justine? He glanced hopefully at the cat.
Rogue seemed unconcerned about this new threat. He calmly licked his paws, then swiped them over his face, repeating the motion again and again.
Meanwhile, Thor advanced toward him one claw at a time, as if each limb had been dipped in cement. Zack pressed himself against the sofa, refusing to give in to the cowardly urge to get up and move. If the woman he loved could live with this...overgrown lizard, then he could learn to tolerate it.
Maybe.
Thor reached him, but didn't stop. He climbed onto Zack's lap and then onto his chest, planting his weighty claws directly over his heart. Then he froze as if someone had flipped a switch.
Unfortunately, Zack knew Thor was not an animated toy.
Zack dared to move his eyes, glancing at the closed bathroom door. Where in the hell was Justine? In the bathroom peering through a crack in the door and laughing, no doubt. The thought gave him courage. If she was observing him with her odd assortment of critters, then she would discover he was tougher than she thought.
He'd calmed a wild monkey, hadn't he?
Offering a quick prayer for his survival, Zack lifted his hand and stroked his fingers along the iguana's side. The skin was rough and cool, but not unpleasant.
Marvel of marvels, Thor's eyes slowly closed, as if in ecstasy.
Zack felt a grin stretch his lips. He grew bolder, raising his hand to scratch the iguana's head. Rogue jumped onto his shoulder, but instead of digging his claws into Zack's skin, he settled down and began to purr as if he approved of what Zack was doing. The rumbling vibration and Rogue's soft fur relaxed him further.
Two down, one to go, Zack thought, wondering if he'd gone totally crazy. He had a feeling Squeeze wouldn't be an easy victory.
"Well, well, well. Aren't you turning into a regular Dr. Doolittle."
Zack jumped at the sound of her soft, drawling voice. Thor's eyes popped open. With a speed that amazed Zack, Thor crawled from his lap and headed in her direction. He didn't blame the iguana; he wanted to do the same. Her jeans fit snugly today, and the cinnamon red sweater she wore clung in all the right places.
She reached down and obligingly scratched Thor's head. “Sorry it took me so long,” she said, handing him the compact hair dryer and flashing him a rueful grin that made him want to pull her onto his lap and get busy loving her. “I think Thor's been playing in the toilet again."
Thankfully, she moved away after plugging the cord into an outlet; Zack felt silly enough pointing the thing at his crotch without her watching him. On the other hand, her watching might generate more heat than he could tolerate.
He flicked the switch on the hair dryer. Rogue shot from his shoulder and galloped to the bedroom; Thor moved faster than Zack thought he could, heading in the same direction, and just around the corner of the island bar, he saw the boa slither behind the curtain hanging in front of the washer and dryer.
When Zack realized they were frightened of the small appliance he held in his hand, he grinned. Maybe he could find one small enough to fit in his back pocket.
After a few momen
ts he shut off the dryer. His jeans were still damp, and they smelled, a musky odor that made Zack think of rotting leaves and ammonia, but he figured he could make it home without becoming an icicle.
"That should do it,” he said, unplugging the dryer and placing it on the couch. Justine appeared from the kitchen and leaned against the bar, her gaze lingering for a brief moment on the still-damp circle on his jeans. When she looked at him, her golden eyes were warm with gratitude and...the same old wariness.
Not exactly what Zack had in mind. Hot and needful would suit him better. Much better.
"Thank you."
"For what?” Zack successfully hid his frustration. How did she just forget? he wondered.
She shrugged. “For your patience with the monkey, and with Jordan. He was inexcusably rude."
"Well, I—"
The apartment door burst open. Jordan stood on the threshold. “The monkey's gone crazy again,” he announced breathlessly.
By the time they reached the store, the monkey's panic had spread to the other animals; cats meowed, puppies howled, birds screeched and squawked. Above it all, Zack could hear the monkey screaming.
He stopped the moment he saw Zack, pressing his snowy-white face against the bars. With his terror-stricken gaze focused on Zack, he became very still. Zack stood before the cage, amazed and bewildered by the obvious calming effect he had on the monkey. He just didn't get it! And apparently, he wasn't alone.
"This is uncanny,” Justine whispered, standing behind him, so close he could smell her light perfume.
Jordan and Chris crowded behind them. “Weird,” Jordan said.
Zack shifted back a few steps, parting the crowd. Then another, and another. When he reached the doorway to the main store, the monkey began swaying back and forth. A bone-chilling wail emerged from its throat.
Once again, Zack came forward.
The monkey became still and quiet again.
"That settles it,” Justine said, shaking her head and looking dazed. “He definitely thinks you're his...something."
Chris clapped him on the shoulder, trying to make a joke of it. “Congratulations, Dad."
Zack didn't see anything remotely funny about the situation.
When he realized everyone was staring at him expectantly, he shook his head. “Oh, no. I've got a game to coach tonight."
"You could take him with you. That's a portable cage, isn't it Aunt Justine? He could be the team's mascot."
As Justine nodded and looked at him hopefully, Zack resisted the urge to reach out and choke Jordan. He'd caught Jordan's subtle challenge even if the others hadn't. To leave the monkey now would be the act of a heartless coward—at least he was certain Justine would think so.
Zack swallowed a curse. “All right. I'll take him with me."
"Here, you'd better take these,” Jordan said without a hint of his earlier hostility. In fact, he sounded disgustingly cheerful. “You might need them, since he'll be going home with you."
Automatically, Zack took the pile of books, glancing down. The top title read Old and New World Monkeys. Reference books, he realized, wishing for the first time that he'd never come to Cannon Bay.
How much simpler it would have been if he had just paid someone to kidnap Justine and bring her to Miami.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Eleven
"You really hate Zack, don't you?” Justine asked softly.
Jordan shrugged, but didn't answer. Instead, he turned his face toward the storefront window, the hard, stubborn set of his jaw telling its own story. He reminded her of Clay. Her brother didn't get angry often, but when he did he could dish out the silent treatment for weeks.
She braced her hands on the counter behind her and leaned against it, watching her nephew and hoping she sounded neutral about the entire episode. “You deliberately backed him into a corner with the monkey."
It wasn't a question—Justine was positive this was what Jordan had done. She just didn't understand why Zack had accepted her nephew's unspoken challenge. Children answered dares, not grown men who should know better.
"He would have taken him home if you had asked him to anyway,” Jordan said with a defensive tilt of his chin. “I saved you from having to ask. This way you don't owe him any favors."
"How do you know he would have?” Justine was genuinely curious.
"Because Coach Wayne's got the hots for you."
Justine's face heated at his blunt assessment. She shouldn't have been surprised; Jordan wasn't one to beat around the bush and never had been. Did Zack have the hots for her? Was sex—and yes, oh yes, the sex had been good—his motive for taking the monkey? Was he hoping to soften her, lure her into his bed?
She had to admit, albeit painfully, that it wouldn't take much softening. She wasn't, however, so vain as to think Zack had come to Cannon Bay just to get her in the sack. There were plenty of willing women in Florida, and Zack was a sexy, gorgeous man. He could have his pick. Probably had.
The thought was not a pleasant one, she discovered.
Uncomfortable with the current subject, Justine changed it. “How did you find out about me and Zack, anyway?"
"Colby heard you and Mom talking. He told me."
"Oh.” So Jordan had known about them. It didn't mean he was behind the series of not-so-funny pranks, though, Justine reasoned. The fact that he had a grudge against Zachary Wayne wasn't enough proof in her book. She didn't know what the lawyer in Clay would think, and wasn't anxious to find out.
She shifted around to face the bird cage and absently pulled the satin covering aside, tying it with the tassels. There hadn't been much traffic in the way of customers today, so she thought it would be safe to let them enjoy the evening light before it faded. Tomorrow, she would move them back into the bird room where they would be free of drafts.
The colorful lovebirds stood very still on the perch, heads cocked as if they were listening to the conversation. Justine started to smile at her ridiculous thoughts, but Jordan's outrageous comment froze the smile on her face.
"They talk, you know."
Slowly, Justine turned, dumbfounded by his words. He was jesting, of course. “Who?"
Jordan pointed to the lovebirds, his voice filled with an eerie conviction that made Justine's blood run cold.
"They do. I heard them talking earlier."
Justine swallowed hard. “What—what did they say?” Oh, Lord, she thought, her heart hammering with fear. Drugs, it had to be drugs making him hallucinate this way. It would explain his abrupt personality change, the mood swings, and the outbursts. Maybe it was the reason Zack kicked him from the team!
Her knees nearly buckled as the possibility slammed into her. No, not her Jordan. It couldn't be true! Oh, she wasn't completely naive—she knew drugs were the going thing these days with so many teens, but Jordan had always been anti-drug. He wore T-shirts that read JUST SAY NO. At a youth rally once he had made a speech encouraging other teens to “Just Say No."
Unaware of his aunt's near hysteria, Jordan said, “They were talking about you and Coach Wayne, and about the cruise. They also said something—at least he did—about getting out of the cage and shedding some feathers, seeing some real action. The female bird tried to warn him I was watching. He said something about the witches’ council—"
There was a soft gasp behind her. Wide-eyed, Justine whirled around to stare at the lovebirds. No, she had imagined it. Power of suggestion. Group hypnosis. She'd heard about it, and now she believed it because it had certainly sounded like a human gasp.
When she faced Jordan again, he wore a smug, I-told-you-so expression that sent chills streaking down her spine. And he wasn't finished, it seemed.
"I think they're witches or something."
Justine gripped the counter to keep from falling. She licked her dry lips. “What—what makes you think that?"
Jordan smiled, and strangely enough, it wasn't the insane grimace she expected. “They put a love spell
on the monkey so it would like Zack."
"Why would they do that?” Justine asked faintly. Keep him talking. Maybe he'll eventually hear his own voice and realize how crazy he sounds.
"So you'd be impressed, I guess.” Jordan shrugged. “What happened between you two, anyway? On the cruise, I mean."
"That is none of your business.” How did she manage to sound so calm when she was falling apart? Not Jordan. Please, God, not Jordan.
"Well, it may not be my business,” Jordan said, pointing a finger at the lovebirds. “But I think they've made it theirs."
"I don't understand.” Anything. None of it. Most of all why her nephew, Mr. Anti-drug, had changed his mind. What was it, she wondered frantically. Crack? Pot? Pills? Alcohol?
Jordan approached the cage, his wary gaze trained on the birds. There was a lurking fear in his eyes as well, Justine saw. Paranoia, another symptom of drug use. She clenched her teeth against a cry of outrage. Not her Jordan!
"I think they're here to make sure you guys get back together,” Jordan continued calmly, looking from one bird to the other. “Aren't you, guys? Is that why you're here?"
Her heart breaking, Justine followed his gaze. The birds were watching Jordan, blinking and cocking their heads like a puppy might do when a human spoke to them, as if they were truly trying to figure out what he was saying. Just two ordinary lovebirds.
She leaned closer as Reuben opened his beak. Now he would whistle or chirp, make ordinary bird sounds that might jar Jordan back to reality. As Justine silently urged him on, Mini slapped her wing across Reuben's face and knocked him from the perch.
The colorful bird landed on the bottom of the cage with an outraged squawk. He scrambled to his feet and fluffed his feathers, hopping nimbly back onto the perch. But Justine noticed that he kept a safe distance between himself and his mate.
"Did you see that?” Jordan asked in an awed voice that made her heart drop to her toes. “She hit him on purpose!"
"It was an accident,” Justine said firmly. Telling him about the violent incident on Friday would only fuel his fantasy.
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