by Mia Ashlinn
Before the heavy door had even slammed behind Svetlana, a woman with a head full of frizzy ginger-colored hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and tear-stained cheeks appeared in the doorway.
She and Katie-Anne bolted from their seats with a squeal. “Shannon!”
Neither of them paid any heed to the people they bumped into or pushed out of the way. It was terribly rude, but their only thought was for Shannon.
Reaching her at the very same time, they threw their arms around her. Shannon let out a pitiful moan, but Jaycee wasn’t sure if it was because they were squeezing her too hard or if it was whatever was causing her emotional distress.
“Are you okay, Shan?” Katie-Anne asked in concern.
The sobs that wracked Shannon’s body were her only answer.
Stroking her hair, Jaycee said softly, “Here, let’s sit down.”
Jaycee maneuvered them into the nearest open booth as unobtrusively as possible and resumed stroking Shannon’s hair. “What the hell did they do to you? I am going to kick their asses from here to kingdom come!” The threat rolled off her tongue, disregarding the fact that she was talking about her brothers and not some random assholes on the street. The three peas in a pod stuck together.
Shannon shook her head, causing her hair to tickle the palm of Jaycee’s hand. “Not them. Me.” Unsteadily, Shannon’s head fell back against the back of the booth, and she wiped her nose with the too-long sleeves of a baggy button-up shirt. Only Shannon would wear winter clothes in the summer.
“Of course it was you,” a whiny voice said from behind them. The voice was very familiar. Leila.
Chapter 17
Two snide laughs followed behind their mortal enemy’s words, drowning out all the noises in the café. Clenching her fists painfully tight behind her back, Jaycee smeared a fake friendly smile on her face and twisted to lay eyes on Leila and Mary for the first time in not nearly enough years.
Bitchily, Jaycee hoped that Leila had lost some of the outward beauty that housed the heinous bitch inside. But she had no such luck. The impeccably dressed woman in her out-of-place designer dress and stilettos still had the lustrous mahogany hair that most beauty queens would kill for and the smoky eyes that lens companies attempted to mimic but could never quite capture. Her porcelain complexion and soft features were accented with the right amount of makeup. The beauty mark that Jaycee had come to despise was still perfectly in place on her right cheek, next to the delicately shaped lips that were the door to the demon inside. Her graceful cheeks and dainty nose only added to Leila’s ethereal beauty. How such an angelic-looking woman could be the devil personified, Jaycee would never know.
Mary was another story. She had morphed into what was supposed to be a mirror image of Leila but was a dreadfully sorry excuse for a twin. Her hair had been dyed the same shade of mahogany as Leila’s, but whoever had done the job was an amateur. There was no luster or shine. Mary’s contacts converted her sapphire eyes into a shade that didn’t really match her olive complexion. A copious amount of makeup and a drawn-on beauty mark only accentuated the harsh angles of her face. Unlike Leila’s designer threads and ridiculously expensive stilettos, Mary had on cheap knockoffs, which would be fine if the designs weren’t so distasteful and shabbily made. Jaycee decided Mary’s new look was creepy.
Their newest addition stood with them. Jaycee managed to contain her mirth at the sight of the woman. She looked more like the butt of a joke than an actual person. From the top of her big, boofy 1980s hairstyle, to the makeup that she probably had to use a chisel to remove, to the over-the-top, mismatched rainbow-colored clothing, she was more clown than anything.
“Well, hi, girls. Long time, no see.” Gritting her teeth, Jaycee was as nice as she was capable of being when Leila and Mary were close by. “Who’s the fresh meat? I’m so glad that you two finally found a friend to play with. Three is a mighty lucky number.”
“I’ll bet,” Leila sneered spitefully. “Did you finally manage to get between Gray and Cade? Those two sure know how to fuck a girl. I bet they made you come almost as many times as they made me.”
Jaycee had grown tired of this argument long before she left. Seriously, when would Leila get it through her thick skull that just because two men fucked you when they were drunk as skunks, it did not make them your personal property? “Leila, they haven’t fucked you in years. Besides, I had the ring—not you. I think that says it all.”
With her eyes flaring wildly, Leila slapped the table and moved into Jaycee’s personal space. Her sickly sweet breath made Jaycee want to gag. She would never touch mint again.
“Yeah, you had the ring. Key word—had. Until those men have wedding bands around their ring fingers, and you have the name Blakemore behind yours, they are fair game. And I, for one, intend to do whatever is necessary to keep them away from a whore like you. I think Leila Blakemore sounds much better than Jaycee Blakemore. Don’t you agree, girls?”
Out of the corner of her eyes, Jaycee saw Leila’s two miscreant sidekicks bob their heads enthusiastically, babbling their assent with more words than were necessary.
Jaycee smoothed out her face, appearing uncaring even though her insides boiled with the need to rip the bitch to shreds in the most painful, monstrous way possible. She leaned away from her enemy with a wrinkled nose, dramatically fanning her hand in front of her nose like someone who had been exposed to a foul odor. “Seriously, Leila, how many mints did you use to camouflage the stench that usually comes out of your trap? I think a bag might be overkill.”
“Nah, Jaycee,” Katie-Anne disagreed. “She needs at least a bag to cover it. Personally, I can smell some funk all the way over here.” She reached for her purse and pulled out a peppermint from the local drive-in before offering it to Leila, “Here’s another. If I were you, I would see if Lou has a couple more for you behind the counter. He usually keeps some back there for people with bad breath.”
A sniffling Shannon recharged and rebooted. But in place of her normally antisocial personality came the fighter within. “So that is what reeks around here? I figured that Lou had taken to cooking possum again. Yuck.”
Leila jerked away as if burned, a lethal scowl set on her face. Boy, if looks could kill, Jaycee would shove a mirror into Leila’s face, cross her fingers, and hope the bitch would die.
“You whores,” Mary shrieked like a banshee.
Forcing a chuckle, Jaycee started to speak, but was quickly cut off by Shannon, who said, “I think that Leila already called Jaycee that, Mary. You might want to consider purchasing a thesaurus before making yourself look like an imbecile.”
Katie-Anne reached back into her purse and pulled out her smartphone. She quickly punched in something on the keyboard and handed it to Mary. “Here, Mary. That is a free online dictionary and thesaurus. I took the liberty of searching for imbecile since you probably are unfamiliar with the term. It generally means stupid, silly, idiotic, and half-wit. Well, you get the general idea. You really should jot down the website’s address for the future.”
Miss No-Name spoke for the first time. The woman’s blood pressure appeared to be up, but it was hard to judge with all that makeup and Botox. Her face was probably scarlet colored if someone could actually see it. “Are you calling Mary stupid?”
Jaycee shook her head, laughing hard. “No. We were saying that Mary is stupid, silly, idiotic, and a half-wit.”
When the woman stepped forward confrontationally as though she planned to assault them, Leila stopped her with an arm across the woman’s clearly augmented breasts. The triple-D breasts didn’t budge or squish, corroborating Jaycee’s theory.
Leila sniffed, “We’re through here. I have grown tired of their drivel.” The evilness receded from Leila’s face, making her appear as sweet and fresh as a daisy. “Jaycee, darling, I wanted to let you know that you have some friendly competition. It’s no fun for me to win without you putting forth your best effort. That way, when I win, you can’t be one of those sore losers wh
o claims to have lost by default. Ta-ta, ladies.” Waving her hand in a faux friendly gesture, her mask slipped and her face darkened with hatred. “I’m sure we will be meeting again soon. Small towns make it impossible to avoid the trash.”
They moved to the next table over, taking the cloud of awful-smelling perfume with them. Finally able to breathe again without the offensive fragrance polluting the air around them, Jaycee muttered, “Not if we see you first.”
“Well, that was pleasant.” Katie-Anne’s voice was filled with more irritation than rage.
“Damn it,” Shannon piped in, her annoyance showing as well. “I wanted to fight them.”
Jaycee rolled her eyes in amused exasperation. “You wouldn’t hurt a fly, Shannon.”
“I would have to disagree with you on that, J,” Shannon countered, her voice more sinister than Jaycee had ever heard it.
“Girls, girls.” Katie-Anne broke them up with a choppy wave of her hand in front of their faces as if she was breaking some sort of mystical spell. “We have more important issues than those skanks. What happened, Shannon?”
Her mouth shutting with a snap that had to be uncomfortable, Shannon shook her head erratically and definitively.
Shannon obviously wasn’t going to talk to them. As stubborn as she could be, she might never talk.
“So, where were we before all this bullshit?” Katie-Anne asked with too much nonchalance to be authentic, but thankfully no one called her on it. “Oh! I remember. We were talking about the plan. I came up with the idea that we should exploit your dare to start the ball rolling. The whole psychic thing was Cade’s idea. He remembered your long-lost love for karma and wanted to show you, in his own comical way, that karma isn’t the bitch you believe her to be, that destiny has great plans for you three.”
“Whoa, Katie-Anne. Did Cade choose to name the psychic Destiny Isgood?” Jaycee knew the answer, but she wanted it confirmed before she tormented Cade. He was so adorably predictable. Only he would make up a cheesy name like that. Looking back, she should have known better.
Shannon laughed. “Of course, Jaycee. Who else would name a psychic Destiny Isgood besides Cade McCoy?”
The absurdity overwhelmed Katie-Anne and Jaycee, who joined Shannon in her peals of laughter at Cade’s expense. If only he were here, the three of them could razz him ruthlessly.
Jaycee would take any excuse to torment her lover, especially if he fucked her as punishment. Mentally, she snorted at that half-baked concept. If her men disciplined her for getting into trouble, she might get inventive on how to maximize her penalties.
Fortunately, she had two men to discipline her. Cade might need to be topped by Gray, but he wouldn’t let her top him. It was their hierarchy, and she was pleased with the current standings because other than fucking Cade in the ass with a strap-on once in a while, she had no desire to be a dominating force in the bedroom. Outside the bedroom, she was Jaycee and they were Cade and Gray, but once that door closed, she was theirs in any way they wanted her.
She hadn’t noticed that she’d quit laughing, and so had Katie-Anne and Shannon, who watched her expectantly. “What?” Jaycee demanded to know, throwing her hands up in the air in irritation. “I was thinking.”
“Of that I have no doubt, J,” Katie-Anne said sarcastically, but something was off with her words. Jaycee sensed anxiety from her friend, could see the fear in her exotic turquoise eyes.
“Ask me, Katie-Anne. I’ll tell you what you want to know,” Jaycee encouraged.
Katie-Anne sat up straight, squaring her shoulders. “Fine, damn it, are you mad at us or not, Jaycee?”
A slow smile spread across Jaycee’s face, and she shook her head. “Of course not! You’re the best friends a girl could ever have!”
Relief flittered across both of their faces. However, Katie-Anne’s reaction ran far deeper. Air rushed from her lungs, her whole body deflating like a contracted rubber band.
“See, Katie-Anne?” Shannon tapped Katie-Anne’s nose with her index finger childishly. “I told you she would forgive us as long as she got some action in the process. That means I win.”
Jaycee chortled. “What did you bet this time?”
Katie-Anne’s face grew severe, almost grave. A sliver of tension slid down Jaycee’s spine. “If she won, she would be your maid of honor. If I won, I would be your MOH after tons of groveling and bribery.”
Aghast, Jaycee wanted to curse at both of the dolts she called friends. “You two took the liberty upon yourself to bet who would be my maid of honor?” Pushing back her blonde curls in agitation, she reached for the mustard and ketchup bottles. A food fight might teach them a few things. Thinking better of it, Jaycee put the bottles back. “If I were to get married, I wouldn’t choose between the two of you. I never was a very decisive girl.”
Shannon rolled her eyes and grabbed a napkin out of its holder. She crumpled the paper then flung it at Jaycee’s head. Unsurprisingly, she hit Jaycee squarely on the side of her head. Stupid high school softball star. “No shit, Sherlock.”
The only person at the table who didn’t seem to be enjoying herself was Katie-Anne, who remained subdued. She had the faraway look of a person deep in thought, someone who was calculating the national debt.
“Damn. Earth to Katie-Anne.” Shannon balled up another napkin and tossed it at Katie-Anne’s face. With a blink, she dodged the projectile object and resumed living in the present.
“Fuck you, Shannon. I’m thinking here,” Katie-Anne chided.
“Oh, Katie-Anne, baby. You couldn’t handle a woman like me.”
Katie-Anne frowned at Shannon’s teasing. “So, if we can’t bet for our role in Jaycee’s wedding, what can we bet for?”
Deep contemplation settled on both of their faces while Jaycee watched close by, waiting for another idiotic idea to hit them right between the eyes. The Eureka! look crossed Shannon’s face first.
“I know what we can bet,” Shannon declared with far too much boldness for Jaycee’s comfort.
Fearing everyone’s safety, Jaycee interceded, “No! No more bets. We have something much more significant. I need to get a little revenge, my lovelies.”
Their intrigue overrode their thirst for the settlement of a trivial bet, and they waited for the details with wide eyes and nefarious grins.
“Gray and Cade need a taste of their own medicine. Just because I’m not mad doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t sweat a little for playing with me.”
Chapter 18
Cade sat in his office, going over the lineage of a stallion, when his cell phone jingled. Curious as to who would call his private number, he snatched it from the desk and hit the talk button.
“Cade McCoy.”
A breathy, feminine voice came across the line. “Hello, Cade. It’s Leila.”
Fuck. Damn. Shit. Hell. He didn’t want to talk to Leila. He despised the woman who’d nearly ruined their friendship with Jaycee eleven years ago.
After a fight with Jaycee, he and Gray had gone on the bender to end them all. Between their jealousy of her jackass boyfriend and their impatience wearing thinner by the second, they had to blow off some steam.
Unfortunately for them, Leila preyed upon their weakness, waiting until they were too far drunk to realize the trouble they were getting into. That night was still hazy to him, but the morning after wasn’t something he was likely to forget, no matter how much he wanted to.
In typical fashion, Jaycee had opened the door and entered the bedroom without knocking. Her feet hadn’t made it two steps past the threshold before she caught them red-handed with Leila. The devastation of what she’d been forced to see drained away her inner glow, extinguishing the light that was such a part of her. The memory of her agonized expression still made him cringe.
Not waiting for an explanation, or not wanting one, she had escaped with tears tracking down her face. He and Gray had chased her, barefoot and naked, but hadn’t been able to catch her. Almost two weeks passed before they w
ere allowed close enough to her to explain and defend themselves. And, even then, it was on her terms. She’d appeared on their doorstep at dawn, wanting answers, and they’d given them to her.
“Cade? Hon, are you there?” The duplicitous woman was trying to sound sultry, but she grated on him worse than when Jaycee clawed a chalkboard.
“I’m not your hon, Leila. What do you want?” His combative tone did nothing to hide his contempt for her.
She huffed. “Oh, well, I won’t bother you about Jaycee. Talk to you—”
He stepped into the trap undeterred by the knowledge that he would live to regret it. This woman only bothered him when there was something in it for her. “No! What about Jaycee? Is she okay? What the fuck did you do to her?”
A bogus gasp came from her. “Oh, it’s more what the fuck she is going to do to you and Gray.”
He rolled his eyes even though she couldn’t see, huffing his own disgruntlement at her wasting his time with unsubstantiated bullshit. She was nothing but a pain-in-the-ass troublemaker. “She isn’t going to do anything to us.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, baby,” she said with enough superiority that he became curious.
Cade growled. “Just tell me whatever it is you think you know.”
“Oh, honey, it is what I know. Jaycee has a plan to get even with you and Gray for playing her. What do you think about that?”
The cat was out of the bag. Goddamn it.
* * * *
Even after spending most of last night fucking his lovers raw, Gray’s cock remained hard and full. Breakfast with Cade had only made things worse. He’d been under control until Cade wrapped his perfectly shaped lips around his bottle of orange juice, swallowing down all of its contents. Gray’s thoughts flew straight to Cade’s mouth enveloping his cock and sucking him dry. A fantasy formed in his mind.
* * * *
Sitting back in his chair, Gray watched Cade stand up and skirt around the kitchen table before kneeling at his feet. Cade smiled up at him naughtily and said, “Breakfast time.”