Dirty Exes

by Rachel Van Dyken

  I gave Isla a pleading look.

  She sagged against the chair. “Fine, go, have fun, don’t make any babies.”

  Colin froze.

  I froze.

  Isla frowned.

  He jerked me toward the back bedroom while Jessie was turned around, and then shut the door quietly behind us.

  “I’m clean,” he said between kisses. “I swear, I’m not sure why this never came up but—”

  “On the pill,” I answered. “We’re careless.”

  “So damn careless.” He groaned, lifting me into the air and gently pressing me back against the mattress. “I need to be inside you now, no time for anything but feeling your tight—”

  “Shh!” I pressed a finger to his mouth. “We have to be quiet.”

  “God, you’re pretty.” He kissed my finger and unzipped his jeans, his hands moving to my dress, hiking it to my hips, tugging my underwear down.

  He was right.

  No time.

  There was no time.

  He filled me so hard and fast I gasped, and then bit into his shoulder.

  “Fuck.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be . . .” He moved. “Do it again.”

  I bit him harder, he returned my bite with a thrust and then we were kissing, finding a quick release that hit me so hard I had to bite him again to keep from screaming.

  Chests heaving, we stared at each other. He grinned. “Three minutes, damn, we’re good.”

  “Or bad, depending on how you look at it,” I whispered.

  He kissed my laugh away, pulled my dress down, and stepped back, just as a knock sounded on the door.

  I ran to the bed and laid down like I was getting ready to sleep, while Colin took a deep breath, ran his hands through his hair, and opened the door.

  Isla gave him a flirty wave. “It smells like sex in here.”

  He laughed and opened the door wide just as Jessie turned around and frowned. Colin gave him a little shrug and Isla yawned, kicked off her shoes, and joined me on the bed.

  “Sweet dreams, ladies,” he whispered.

  He said ladies.

  I know he meant me.

  My body was still pulsing.

  My heart hammering.

  “He better be good to go,” Isla said, crawling into bed.

  “He’s the best,” I whispered. “I really like him.”

  “I do too, but don’t tell him that, he’s already cocky as hell.”

  I burst out laughing, then yawned. “I really am tired.”

  “I can’t imagine why.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Do you pull his hair?”

  “Isla!” I scolded. “Stop!”

  “I would.”

  I smiled into my pillow. “He’s like Tarzan. I’m his Jane. I want a tree house. It’s so hot I can’t even—”

  “Bitch, I hate you.”

  “And he likes it, encourages it, he’s . . .”

  A pillow flew across my face. “Stop! Now I feel old, old and sad, and pathetic. I want hot, sweaty Tarzan sex.”

  “One day.”

  “Yeah,” she sighed. “Someday.”

  But we both knew women like us rarely got that chance, women scorned, women who knew better, who saw the ugly, it’s like hitting the lottery to find someone who got it, who put up with our insecurities, our walls.

  I kissed her on the head and gave her a hug.

  And like a good friend, I ignored the tears in her eyes that spoke of a loneliness I knew too well.

  And an ache I felt deep in my soul.

  To be a part of a team.

  But feel like you’d never get picked.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  COLIN

  We were eight hours into our flight. Jessie and I had had our fair share of alcohol, which meant both of us were loose-lipped, which wasn’t good under the circumstances.

  Vanessa was sleeping, and the cabin was dark. The flicker of the movie was the only light.

  “Who is she?” Jessie asked. “The girl who’s put that permanent grin on your face?”

  “She’s . . .” I licked my lips and shrugged. “She’s mine.”

  “Must be nice.” He laughed bitterly and took another sip of his beer. “To have someone who’s yours.”

  Shit. “I didn’t mean it that way, Vanessa’s—”

  “The only person Vanessa loves is Vanessa, you know that’s how it’s always been, how it’s always going to be. She’s an island, I’m a fool for thinking she’d ever give me a lifeboat to reach her.”

  “Don’t you want to try? For old times’ sake? Isn’t that what you do, give the person you once loved the benefit of the doubt? Even if the person doesn’t deserve it? I guess I’m just trying to figure you out. You’re hot and cold with her.”

  Jessie shook his head. “We did try. It’s not working. We’re two different people, you don’t just get past that kind of betrayal, especially when she doesn’t have any remorse.”

  “I know.” I went to the bar and poured more whiskey into my glass. “But she’s still my sister.”

  “You never warned me,” Jessie whispered.

  I steadied myself. “Pretty sure I did, over and over and over again. You were in love.” I made air quotes. “Besides, you didn’t listen to me. Not when it mattered.”

  He hung his head. “I thought I knew better.”

  I grunted. “You saw something pretty and you wanted it because you’re Jessie fucking Beckett. She was another trophy, don’t pretend that you guys both weren’t using each other for the same damn thing. Maybe it started off good, but it went to hell about as quick as her acting and modeling career.” I shook my head. “You guys are like poison to each other, but I still want each of you to be happy. If it’s not with each other, that’s fine.”

  “Thanks, man.” Jessie lifted his glass and clinked it against mine. “I need to move on. I want to move on.” His gaze fell to the room where Blaire was sleeping.

  My Blaire.

  Mine.

  “Maybe wait until those papers are signed, man. Speaking of, everything on the up-and-up?”

  “Yeah.” Jessie yawned. “Next week, granted she signs.”

  “She will.” I hoped she would, hoped to God the PI stuff was going to be the last straw. The book she wrote was still doing well, and they’d divorce silently and tell the world in a few months via a press release. It was how things were done in our world.

  Jessie’s gaze lingered on the bedroom door and I wanted nothing more than to grab his attention away from the one woman he probably did want.

  He was too late.

  I hid a smug smile but it fell when Jessie’s shoulders hunched. “I should have never let her go.”

  Well, shit.

  I ran a hand through my hair and leaned back against the leather seat. “Look, man, hindsight is always twenty-twenty.”

  He snorted into his glass. “Think I don’t know that? It seems like my decisions in love and marriage always came back to her, wondering ‘what if,’ what would have happened. I knew I was a dick to her, I didn’t even give us a chance, and I can’t help but wonder if I had—would I still be here, in this situation.”

  I waited and then said, “Life is life, Jessie, wondering ‘what if’ won’t make the present better, it just forces you to live in a past that doesn’t exist.” I shrugged. “Focus on getting through this trip and move on, that’s all you can do.”

  “Move on.” He grinned into his glass. “Oh, I plan to. With her.” He nodded to the door.

  And the guilt piled onto my head so heavy and fast that I actually did it, I opened my mouth, to confess, to tell him everything. “Jessie, look—”

  The door jerked open, Isla sauntered out and stretched her arms over her head then winked at Jessie. “Tell me you have wine?”

  He scowled. “Why are you here again?”

  “Because you secretly love me and want to impregnate me?” She said it so casually I almost di
dn’t catch it and when it hit, I burst out laughing before Jessie gave me a middle-finger salute.

  “The last thing I want”—Jessie glared at her—“is to touch you.”

  “Sure.” She winked. Damn, the woman oozed confidence in a way that was lethal. In a way that typically caused guys like Jessie to give chase.

  But he wasn’t chasing.

  He was glaring.

  “Go wake up homegirl,” Isla encouraged me.

  But it was Jessie who hopped to his feet and bolted toward the room.

  “Fuck.” I held my head in my hands while Isla sat next to me and patted my back. “This isn’t going to end well, is it?”

  “You have any other best friends you can hang out with for the rest of your life?” Isla asked softly.

  “Very funny.”

  “I wasn’t kidding,” she said sadly. “Now find me some wine . . . your girl’s gonna need some too.”

  I stood, glancing toward the room and the door that was still open a crack.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  BLAIRE

  I’d slept like the dead and then dreamed that the plane was going down in flames. I woke up sweaty and disoriented, and then had a fitful time going back to sleep.

  Until I felt warm hands on my shoulders.

  And a nice body getting into bed next to me.

  I snuggled next to it.

  “Colin?” I whispered sleepily.

  The body next to me froze, and then a warm chuckle washed over me. “Why would I send Colin?”

  I jerked awake just as Jessie kissed the top of my head.

  It was wrong.

  All of it.

  Panicked, I pulled the sheet to my chest even though I was fully clothed, my eyes darted to the door.

  “Don’t worry,” Jessie whispered. “She’s sleeping.”

  “Jessie—” I pushed a hand to his chest, which only encouraged him to grab it and kiss my fingertips. “No, this isn’t right, your wife—”

  “Damn it, would everyone stop reminding me I’m still legally tied to her?” Our foreheads touched. “I don’t want her. It’s been over for months. We’ve both been unfaithful in our own ways.”

  That was news.

  And then I wanted to slap him. “That’s your choice, but I’m not going to be one of those people.”

  The minute I said it, I regretted it, because my entire job on this trip was to be the one catching him with someone else, or get caught with him.

  It was my chance to get out, to expose him.

  But it felt so wrong.

  With Colin a few feet away.

  Jessie Beckett in my bed.

  The one guy I’d fantasized about for years while being married to a lazy sloth who couldn’t even reverse cowboy because it hurt his back.

  This was supposed to be my reward.

  What kept me believing that something good was out there. Something incredible.

  And now I had it within my reach.

  But I knew I wanted something else completely.

  I didn’t want the Jessie Beckett fantasy.

  I wanted a freaking basement dweller with a man bun and snake tattoo.

  Holy shit. It felt so good to say it in my head.

  “See?” Jessie stupidly believed my smile was for him. It wasn’t. Maybe it never was. “Just relax, let me take care of you.”

  A knock sounded on the door and Colin walked in, saluting me with two fingers before glaring at his best friend. “Vanessa’s up.”

  “Fuck.” Jessie pulled away from me, then ran a finger down my nose. “This isn’t over.”

  I waved good-bye.

  The door shut behind him.

  I fell back against the mattress and groaned. “Was she really up?”

  “I may have kicked her feet,” Colin said in an amused tone before the bed dipped under his weight. Suddenly he was there. His scent wrapped around me, his fingers gripped mine, and I felt at home. Safe.

  I felt everything in his touch.

  His promises, his kisses.

  Him.

  “You okay?” he asked, kissing my neck, tucking my hair behind my head as his lips explored my skin.

  I turned to him and cupped his face. “I don’t want Jessie.”

  His grin turned lethal. “Oh yeah? What do you want?”

  “I’m only saying this because it’s hypothetical, but if you did happen to live in a basement”—I watched his grin widen—“I would still sleep with you. I’d probably move in with you and tell you it was the coolest basement ever, complete with lava lamp and Korn posters.” He bit down on his lip, his smile cracking even wider. “And I’d probably get a matching snake tattoo because damn it, when you love someone—”

  His eyes lit up and then he kissed me.

  I kissed him back.

  And didn’t stop.

  He pulled back between kisses. “So”—his tongue slid past my lower lip—“not even ten days in, and you feel all of that.” He kissed me harder.

  “I said hypothetically!” I argued.

  “Uh-huh.” He slapped my ass, then tugged my ear with his teeth. “I’ll make an appointment.”

  “What?”

  “For your matching tattoo, naturally it needs to take up your whole arm, and if you want, you can totally move into my basement, though I’ll warn you, it’s mostly a pool with a really nice bathroom.”

  “I think anyone would be thrilled to live in one of your ten bathrooms.”

  “Twelve.” He shrugged.

  I crossed my arms. “I wasn’t, I didn’t mean it like—”

  “Shhhh.” He pressed a finger to my lips. “I’ll keep your secret safe.”

  “But—”

  “That you fall fast and hard, with your whole heart, you don’t think, you stupidly lay everything at the guy’s feet and hope he doesn’t run your heart over with his truck.” He grinned. “It’s fucking sexy, your trust . . . in me. In this.” He brushed his lips against my mouth. “And it’s all I’ve wanted from you since you first crashed into my bar like you haven’t worn stilettos before.”

  I growled.

  “So hot.”

  The door opened.

  We broke apart.

  Not that it mattered.

  Since it was Vanessa.

  Hands on hips.

  Glaring.

  “Well, well, well, brother.” Her words dripped with venom. “You move on fast. What was it? Only a week or two ago when you had a few bimbos in your bed tweeting about your dick size?”

  “Huge.” I winked at her. “It’s huge.”

  I was already afraid she would expose me, but part of me knew I still had the upper hand—she needed me, she needed Colin.

  Colin let out a low chuckle. “What’s up, Vanessa?”

  “Just making sure the paid help”—she eyed me like I was poison—“is doing her job and catching Jessie in the act.” Her nostrils flared at Colin. “You always did like sleeping with the maids. Remember, blood is thicker than water, and if you tell Jessie about this you’re not just betraying my trust, you’re betraying your family.”

  She walked out.

  I threw a pillow at the door as insecurity washed over me again.

  Not enough.

  Not enough.

  Not enough.

  “Stop.” Colin braced his arms around me. “This is about her being bitchy because she can’t control the universe. Don’t make it about you.”

  I sighed and hung my head. “Okay.”

  “Now, about that tattoo—”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  BLAIRE

  I was exhausted even though I slept through most of the flight.

  By the time we made it to the van I was ready to take about ten naps.

  “This country is beautiful.” Isla somehow managed to sit next to Jessie in the front of the SUV. The security at the airport was so lax that it almost worried me, and then suddenly there were two black SUVs and people helping us with our stuff.

 
It wasn’t lost on me that Jessie tipped every single person who helped us, they bowed at him like he was the reason they would eat.

  And a part of my defenses slid away. He wasn’t a bad guy, not completely, he was just in a shitty position and made shitty choices.

  I was coloring him with the same pencil I used when I wrote horns over Jason’s face, and that wasn’t fair.

  He had good attributes.

  He just needed to stop being an ass and actually wait to drop his pants and show them off.

  Colin gripped my hand briefly in the ride.

  I laid my head on his shoulder.

  Jessie turned and gave me a funny look before Isla tapped his thigh and distracted him. “What’s that?”

  Jessie actually smiled at her. “Hey, can we make a stop?”

  The driver nodded and pulled over.

  Jessie held out his hand to me. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  Ten monks were in the middle of the street, people were bowing to them and giving them money.

  “This is how the monks support themselves,” Jessie said in a hushed voice. Colin, Isla, and I got out of the car with Jessie, while Vanessa must have stayed in the SUV.

  People, tourists, not locals, started noticing us.

  Mainly Jessie, I assumed.

  He jogged away only to return with rice and fruit. He put his hand on Isla’s back. “To show them the proper respect.” He helped her kneel.

  “But I’m not Buddhist,” Isla whispered.

  Jessie grinned. “Neither am I. I’m a human. This is how they make meals and take care of one another. It’s a sacred tradition. We give them money so they can eat. Imagine if Americans did the same with each other, what kind of world we’d live in.”

  Isla’s eyes filled with tears before she knelt in front of the first monk.

  Jessie gave her the food, and slowly the monks walked past, one by one. Jessie helped her hand out all the food. And for some reason it felt wrong to speak.

  We were all quiet on our way back to the SUV.

  Vanessa was asleep in the back, mouth open, snoring.

  Jessie took one look at her and hung his head, then nearly ran into Isla as they both tried to get in the front.

  He surrendered his seat with a small smile.

  She nodded and then gave him a side hug. “Thanks for that.”

  He exhaled, and then frowned like she wasn’t the psychopath she’d led him to believe she was. With a wink she took the front seat.