Dangerous Exes (Liars, Inc. Book 2)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  Goo-Poh never talked about money.

  It was frowned upon.

  Especially in a church.

  So I expected her to either go on a hunt for holy water or spit on the ground, instead she looked up at him and slapped his cheek lightly. “You’re a good man.”

  My mouth hung open, and I almost swallowed my tongue when she followed that with a little cheek pinch. “Thank you.”

  “Well.” Goo-Poh pulled away from Jessie and crossed her arms to face me. “You need to pick a location in the next six hours to stay on schedule. Can you and your man do that, or do you need my help?”

  Jessie must have seen the panic in my eyes. He quickly pulled me to his side and said, “We’ve got it. I know you still have a lot on your plate, so let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

  “Find the location and I’ll stop off at the florist.” She pulled out an ancient-looking notebook, flipped through the highlighted pages, stopped, pulled out a green marker, and made a little check mark, then checked her wristwatch and wrote the time down. “Call me when you know.”

  And then she was shuffling off like she was getting chased by the cops.

  I sighed and looked up at Jessie.

  He choked out a laugh, coughed, and tried to hide his smile.

  “Not a word,” I said with clenched teeth.

  He nodded. “I don’t think that’s possible . . .”

  “Jessie, I’m warning you!”

  He placed his hand on my lower back and ushered me out of the giant sanctuary. “So, you learned all your highlighting from Goo-Poh?”

  I groaned. “You’re dead to me.”

  “Hey, what are you like at scrapbooking stores, does your brain actually explode or do you just orgasm right next to the washable markers?”

  I gave him a shove. “You can’t say orgasm in church!”

  “Orgasm.” He grinned cheekily. “See? Totally fine, not getting struck down, not—”

  A boom of thunder sounded.

  We both jumped a foot.

  “Shit.” He jerked me to his side. “It was supposed to rain today, this means nothing, but just in case I’m wrong and you’re right, let’s get out of here.”

  We ran hand in hand onto the street just as the first raindrops fell. More followed, and by the time we reached his car we were both soaked through.

  It was a warm rain.

  I lifted my arms and did a little twirl while he walked around to open my door.

  “Sorry.” I grinned.

  “Do it again,” he breathed.

  I tilted my head. “Do what again?”

  “Twirl in the rain.”

  “I wasn’t twirling,” I lied.

  “It was adorable.” He pulled me into his arms and then very slowly twirled me. “And you looked so damn free and happy in that moment that I wish I could have captured it.”

  “This guy,” I said out loud, pressing a hand to his chest. “What am I going to do with you?”

  He leaned down and brushed a warm kiss across my cheek. “Whatever the hell you want.” He kissed my chin, then my neck. “But if you’re in the market for suggestions, I have a few.” His hands wrapped around my waist and inched higher to my breasts, right there in the middle of the street.

  I didn’t care.

  “Oh? What kind of suggestions?” Goose bumps broke out across my skin as his teeth tugged my ear.

  “I’m finding I have this fantasy of you in red—all the time. It gets me so hard I can’t even think straight . . . but there’s a lot of lace, and I use my teeth to pull down your lingerie, and the sight of your ass facing me, well, let’s just say it’s enough to drive me insane . . .” He tugged my ear again. “But first—”

  “First?” My body was ready for him, hell, I would have said yes if he asked for a quickie in the back seat.

  “First”—he pulled away and sighed—“we have to find a place to get married.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Yeah, that.”

  “Goo-Poh gave us six hours, what are we going to do?”

  “You’re going to tell me your dream wedding . . . and I’m going to make it happen.”

  My heart thudded against my chest so hard I could swear he heard it. “But, Jessie—”

  “Let me give this to you.”

  He looked so earnest, so sincere, his eyes never left mine as I nodded and then whispered, “Okay.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  JESSIE

  We were closing in on the eleventh hour, and we’d yet to find an available space. Numerous texts from Goo-Poh kept coming in, reminding us that we needed to get married on that date for the blessing to take place. It sounded ridiculous, but the more anxious Isla became, the more I knew it was important. Besides, the public was going wild with the fact that I was getting married again, this time to a woman who made it her job to help celebrities break up their own marriages.

  We had one more stop. I could tell Isla was doubtful, but the place was new, and after texting Colin in a panic, he’d suggested it since he knew the owners.

  It helped that I was willing to pay anything.

  Hell, I’d give them my spleen if it meant Isla had a smile on her face.

  It made no sense.

  My reaction toward her.

  My feelings.

  The way my gut churned in protest whenever I thought of not having her in my life, the panic that ensued when I imagined walking into my kitchen and finding it clean.

  I shoved the thoughts away and pulled up to the building. On the outside it looked like a plain warehouse.

  “Are we meeting the mafia?” Isla joked while I wondered if I had the address wrong. I double-checked the text as Isla balanced on her heels, walked up to the one and only door in the front of the building, and rang the bell.

  The door opened, revealing an elderly woman who looked like she could be Goo-Poh’s sister, only older. She had gray hair at her temples and small, black spectacles that matched her black pantsuit.

  “I’ve been expecting you.” She held out her hands to Isla and tugged her inside, then eyed me up and down as if to say silently, Eh, you’ll do.

  I followed them into a large lobby with huge chandeliers, which opened up into a banquet hall that could hold at least five hundred people. White curtains covered the walls, lights of every blinding color filled the room.

  Three weeks ago this would have been my own personal hell.

  Lights everywhere.

  Color.

  Chaos.

  Instead, it made me smile.

  The universe had a weird way of doing things. My first wedding had been huge, everything was white—Vanessa had wanted it to be black and white and even instructed guests on what to wear.

  And yet here I was, staring at what looked like a leopard-print orange light on a white backdrop.

  Of course.

  Isla was off chatting with the woman in hushed tones, and then Isla hugged her and practically bounced over to me.

  “So?” Her excitement was contagious.

  She did a little jig. “She said they can fit us in on our date and at a discounted rate.”

  “Discount?” My eyebrows shot up. “How the hell did you manage that?”

  “She thinks her daughter-in-law is cheating, we made a sort of trade.” She put her hands on her hips. “So instead of paying ten grand for the day”—I shrugged at the amount—“you’re paying three!”

  “You didn’t have to do that.” I tugged her into my arms.

  “Just like you didn’t have to offer to pay, or propose, or—”

  I silenced her with a kiss, I didn’t want her remembering those things, the things I was forced to do, when if I could do them all over again I would have savored them more, I would have made them better.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket.

  I pulled away with irritation and reached for it.

  Why the hell was Blaire calling me?

  “Who is it?” Isla must have notic
ed my confused expression.

  “Your best friend.” I sent the call to voice mail. “I’ll call her back.”

  Isla’s phone started ringing.

  She pulled it out of her purse and sighed. “Blaire again, hopefully everything’s okay, I’ll just answer really quick.” She tapped the screen. “What’s up?”

  Her eyes narrowed at me. “Yeah, he’s right here, yeah, we were actually heading back to the house and—” She made a face. “Yeah, just meet us there.”

  She hung up and stared at her phone while crushing anxiety washed over my body, paralyzing me to my spot on the floor. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, she just sounded . . . pissed.”

  Fuck.

  “Did she say what about?”

  “Nah, probably a client or something. You ready?”

  “Yeah.” I stopped walking and pulled her against my chest. “Tell me again that you’re going to marry me.”

  Isla felt my forehead. “Kind of don’t have a choice there . . .”

  “Promise me.” I refused to let her go. “Promise.”

  Isla frowned. “I promise.”

  I kissed her hard on the mouth and prayed that it wasn’t the worst, prayed that it wasn’t Danica.

  And that I wasn’t going to lose the only woman I’d ever really been myself with.

  The only woman I had ever truly loved.

  Chapter Fifty

  ISLA

  Twelve.

  The number of times Jessie grabbed my hand and kissed my fingertips while we drove home.

  He took the long way.

  He stopped at yellow lights.

  And every few seconds his eyes would dart to mine like he was waiting for a bomb to drop on our car.

  Maybe he was nervous about getting married?

  He’d made me promise, so maybe he thought I was backing out?

  I was doing it again.

  Analyzing.

  Maybe he liked holding my hand.

  Maybe he liked kissing it.

  Maybe I needed to stop analyzing every moment and get my head on straight.

  Blaire’s car was already at the house. Jessie pulled into the garage and killed the engine, then stared straight ahead.

  “You coming?” I reached for my door.

  “Yeah,” he croaked. “Coming.”

  I found Blaire pacing in the living room. “Everything okay?”

  Her blonde head whipped around so fast I’m surprised she didn’t pull a muscle. “Yeah, totally fine, actually. I know we’re on a tight timeline, so I was thinking we should go wedding-dress shopping tomorrow?”

  I tried to tamp down the giddiness in my stomach but it was near impossible. Jessie came around the corner and kissed me on the cheek. “Just make sure she gets whatever she wants.” He pulled out a credit card that looked dangerously like the kind that has no limits and pressed it into my palm. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

  “Wait.” Blaire had a panicked look about her—then again, it was Blaire, she was high-strung, it was her nature. “Can I talk to you about wedding surprise stuff really quick?”

  Jessie paled. “Yeah, um, we can go into my office.”

  He kissed me one last time. “It’s been a long day. Why don’t you go take a bath?”

  “Don’t order me around,” I pouted, even though that was already my plan.

  He slapped me on the ass. “Go.”

  He gave me one last look—it felt like goodbye, it felt like my heart was getting ripped from my chest, and I had no idea why. Why he was giving me that look, why I felt like he was trying to say something.

  Hours later I’d realize what it was.

  Guilt.

  Sadness.

  Betrayal.

  It was the end.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  JESSIE

  No sooner had I clicked the door shut behind me than tiny fists were beating into my back over and over again. I leaned my arm against the door and grumbled, “Are you done yet?”

  “No!” Blaire punched me in the kidney. It hurt like a bitch. I winced and turned around to face her, to face what I’d done, what she knew. “I was rooting for you! Both of us were! You’ve changed, I know you have, so why the hell am I finding out that you’ve paid someone to spy on us and try to take us down!”

  “It’s not like that.” It was exactly like that. Shit.

  “Don’t lie to me, Jessie, I’m already pissed enough to pull out my Taser. You can thank your best friend for searching my purse before I got in the car.”

  Thank God.

  “Look, Danica isn’t exactly reliable,” I said. “She hasn’t returned any texts or calls, I’m threatening to sue, so pull whatever crawled up your ass out of the scary, dark place and stop hitting me!”

  Blaire smacked me in the chest again, then shoved me. “No! You don’t go behind Isla’s back, you’re not that guy. Did you think she wouldn’t find out?”

  I sighed and hung my head. “I was desperate.”

  “No. Shit.” Blaire said through clenched teeth. “Danica has everything, Jessie. And when I say everything I mean her little hacker abilities are even better than Abby’s.” She paced in front of me. “She has our confidential files, our records, she has social security numbers, bank account numbers, she has our entire corporation on a flash drive. She showed it to me!”

  “Fuck.” It was time to panic. “She signed an NDA, so she can’t go public with any of the information.”

  Blaire actually laughed. “You think she just wants to go public? Are you insane? She doesn’t want to go public, she wants to sell all our clients’ dirty little secrets to the highest-paying reporters in the country. She’s already gotten an offer for fifty grand from US Weekly.”

  Realization dawned. “How much did she ask for?”

  “You really don’t want to know.” Blaire sighed. “I didn’t tell Colin that part, because that would be like Colin to bail your ass out. This is on you, all of this. You set out to destroy Dirty Exes, well, congratulations, as of tomorrow at noon you just did. We may as well pack our boxes now, because our company is about to get sued by every high-profile client we’ve ever dealt with, including your ex-wife.”

  I hung my head.

  “You know why she started it, right?” Blaire whispered. “The company?”

  “Her ex,” I answered.

  Blaire shrugged. “After they broke up, he blacklisted her . . . she wasn’t invited to any more Hollywood parties, he stripped their joint bank accounts of anything and everything, locked her out of their house so she had to get a police escort to get her clothes packed, and even stopped making lease payments without telling her, so it would ruin her credit. He destroyed her, and she made something of herself. I never expected the same from you . . . it seems all men do in her life is make sure that she has nothing—while they have it all.”

  Blaire shoved past me and slammed the door after her.

  With shaking hands I grabbed my cell and dialed Danica’s number.

  “Please answer, please answer, please answer,” I mumbled.

  It went to voice mail.

  When it beeped, I made sure to speak slowly when I said, “Name. Your. Price.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  ISLA

  I got worried when Jessie didn’t come to bed. Even after such a short time, I was so used to him being next to me that when he wasn’t filling that spot, I automatically knew something was wrong.

  When I walked into the living room he was sitting there with an open bottle of wine, holding his phone in his hands like he’d just received devastating news. “You’re still up?” I made my way to the couch and sat.

  He didn’t look away from his phone. “Yeah, just . . . thinking.”

  “About the wedding?”

  His lips twitched. “Question . . .”

  “Oooh, are the two hours starting again?”

  “Smart-ass.”

  I stole his wine and took a sip. “What’s your ques
tion?”

  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat then tossed his phone on the table and looked across at me. “When we were in Cambodia, did you think about it?”

  Not what I expected.

  I’d actually felt something for him a year ago. He’d opened up just enough for me to see the man that everyone else saw. There was a frisson of awareness between us I ignored, and we were friends, up until he started blaming my company for everything. For weeks we’d all hung out together, and then the explosion that was Vanessa occurred—she fell out of the limelight then stepped right back into it by blaming Jessie.

  I glanced away then back at him as he took the glass from my hand and put it on the table next to his phone. “There were a few times I felt something between us. I ignored it, but it was there, and one night, after drinking way too much”—he smirked—“I thought about it. I thought about touching you, kissing you, and then I felt so damn guilty because there I was, still married, still trying to use Blaire as a way out, as my fallback, and there you were . . . you.”

  My throat went dry. “I thought about it.”

  His eyes flashed. “And?”

  “And the real thing is way better than the fantasy of these hands on my body.” I gripped his hands and then put them on my breasts and closed my eyes. “This feels like everything.”

  He squeezed and then pulled me onto his lap. “Go on a date with me?”

  I laughed.

  He slapped my ass. “I’m serious. I want to take you on a date, a real date . . .”

  “Okay.” I grinned. “Tomorrow night I’m—”

  “Nope, right now. And you just said okay, so no backing out.”

  I burst out laughing. “This seems very . . . spontaneous for someone who freaked over a blue wall.”

  “At least you didn’t paint it pink,” he grumbled. “And it’s growing on me . . . you’re growing on me.”

  “Aw, nicest thing a man’s ever said to me.”

  “Hey, weeds are hard to pull, I’m being sentimental!”

  “Maybe on this date you just kiss me and stop talking.” I gripped him by the shirt and slammed my mouth against his.

  He pulled away. “Sorry, but I’m not that sort of guy. It is, after all, a first date.” He stood and grabbed his phone, music suddenly filled the air, and then I was in his arms, dancing.