Married To Her Ex (a standalone novel)

by Kat Cantrell

  She rose and hooked one finger through the thong, the only article of clothing she still wore. “And I believe the deal was for me to do it naked,” she announced, and stripped off the scrap of lace in agonizing, provocative, slow motion. “Voilà. Naked.”

  Jesse’s eyes crossed. “You’re unbelievable.”

  Aftershocks rippled through his groin, and he could barely keep his head upright. He still didn’t know how she’d ended up in his lap but the resulting “side trip” hadn’t been anywhere close to the lesson in humiliation he’d intended. He was furious with himself for still reacting to her, for still caring enough to be furious. Up until the second he walked in and saw his wife, he’d have sworn she had no ability to affect him any longer.

  Let alone the ability to get him to come in her hot little mouth.

  He groaned. The image of her on her knees taking his full length into her throat would haunt him for a long time.

  “Fine. You have five more minutes. God knows, I don’t think I could survive longer.”

  With a victorious smile, she lifted the laptop’s lid and tapped the keys. She clicked on the TV and set the remote within close reach, the lines of her back luminescent in the low entertainment-quality lights.

  The beginning bars of vaguely familiar music played. When an aerial shot of the factory materialized on the high-definition screen, he forgot all about the annoying ache in his ribs. And his heart.

  “What is this?” he demanded.

  “It’s your new promotional campaign, to get you back your contracts, and it’s good, if I do say so myself,” she said smugly. “Be still and watch. The screen, not me, or I’ll have to start over.”

  Since looking at her flat-out hurt, he took the advice.

  Shot after shot of Outlaw’s day-to-day operations faded in and out, enhanced by a voice-over. Raw materials riding a conveyor belt and complex machine assembly with spinning gears and robotic arms. Stuff he saw every day, along with the rest of his employees, but no one else had this kind of access.

  Outsiders weren’t privy to the inner workings of his company. On purpose. “How did you get all the footage of the line?”

  “Layla helped me. Dolores, too.”

  She might as well have said supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. “Layla helped you? My Layla?”

  “Yeah, your Layla. Shockingly enough, they do teach you a thing or two in the MBA program. She’s really sharp and has good ideas, which I will deny I said if you ever repeat it.” Alexia laughed lightly, but the crease across her brow divulged the cost of the admission. “Now be quiet.”

  Strangely, he couldn’t keep his attention solely on the screen. Alexia’s nails were in her mouth and mussed hair spilled over her bare shoulders in a brown waterfall. Her ramrod stiff spine never relaxed. Strange how his gaze seemed more drawn to her face than her suburb body that she’d left on display for his viewing pleasure.

  The overdone and sappy commercial ended, and he started to get up, grateful it was over, but then Danny appeared, his demeanor professional and serious as he talked about what a great business owner his friend was. This was the same guy who could slam an entire beer in thirteen seconds yet still come off like a grownup on screen the next morning. It never ceased to amaze.

  Felix Rogers, one of his forklift drivers, stood next to Danny and spouted some nonsense about how nice Jesse was, and then Marisela Hernandez had the nerve to disobey a direct order by telling everyone he’d gone to the hospital to visit her when she gave birth to a daughter with a heart defect and that he had personally given her an extra month’s paid maternity leave.

  Unbelievable. That was supposed to be a secret. See if he did that again.

  One by one, people blurted out platitudes and half-truths about him. How much had Alexia paid these people to say this stuff? It was embarrassing.

  Dolores popped onto the screen. His forehead tightened. Even Dolores had defected. Tense to the bone, he watched her talk, waiting for some gem to pop out he’d expected to remain strictly between the two of them. She talked and talked and talked, yammering about his interview process and saying she hadn’t realized the skill it took to corral three kids. How could she not see that? Jesse’s mom had raised eight kids, which he’d witnessed firsthand until escaping to college. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out Dolores would be a stellar assistant.

  Dolores cried into a tissue on the screen, and he sighed. Yeah, she was way overdue for some flowers and a spa package.

  Alexia sneaked a glance at him, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. What was she looking for? Some sign that the over-romanticized sentiment oozing from the TV had brought about a change of heart? What colossal gall. As if she’d left a shard of his heart behind. He had nothing left to change.

  The interviews were the last piece of the presentation. As the screen went dark, she crossed the room and knelt by his feet, placing a hand on his leg. “I hope you liked it. Danny’s distributing the commercials and interviews to all the major news outlets, and Layla’s working the print. She was worried about oversaturation but—”

  “Why did you do this?” he asked harshly, jerking his knee out from under her hand. Touching him was not a good idea. “Is this supposed to be some sort of apology? I thought you didn’t do anything.”

  With a shuddery sigh, she leaned back, her luscious breasts shifting. He jerked his attention back to her face.

  “You sprang this deal on me, and I agreed only because I thought I was going to take my patent and leave. Almost instantly, you blew that out of the water, knocking down my defenses and proving I still had it bad for you. I got scared.” She paused and sniffed loudly. “So I called a college friend of mine who’s a reporter, and someone else intercepted the call. I swear I didn’t know about the acquisition. But it’s still my fault Outlaw’s being investigated, so yes. It’s an apology and an attempt to get your contracts back in one.”

  His temper, already spinning, veered dangerously close to erupting.

  Before he did something he couldn’t take back, he fisted his hands by his side. “You shouldn’t have done this. You have no right to create advertising for Outlaw without my consent. Since Ben was one of the interviewees, I’m assuming he was aware, for all the good it did. I’ll be sure he informs you of your legal rights in the future.”

  “Your reaction to all this is to inform me of my legal rights?” she asked, and her shoulders slumped.

  “It’s far better than what I’d like to say to you. I’d take it if I were you.”

  She jumped up, hands on her hips, chest jiggling. “No thanks. I’d prefer honesty. Tell me what you really think of all the hard work your employees and friends did to put this together to help save your company. Go ahead, I can take it. Can you?” she challenged.

  “My thoughts are directed at you, not the people in those interviews.” He stared at the wall instead of her flawlessly formed breasts, which had very recently rubbed up against his bare torso. Difficult to forget with them constantly in his face. “And get dressed. It’s distracting to have you bouncing around all over the place.”

  “Sure.” She pulled her clothes on rapidly. “Everyone on this earth exists to do your bidding, right?”

  With a dark chuckle, he said, “If that was true, you’d wear a French maid uniform with no underwear twenty-four seven and never open your mouth. Maybe then we’d actually have some type of a satisfying relationship.”

  Hurt deepened the lines in her forehead as she buttoned her shirt. “I know you’re angry, but you don’t mean that.”

  “You’re right. I’d actually prefer it if you never spoke to me again.”

  A small, frustrated scream rippled from low in her throat. He didn’t blink.

  “You win,” she said in a low voice. “I give up. So you can screw up and apologize, but I’m not allowed to? I can’t believe you missed the most crucial part of all this. Danny asked if he could interview me and I refused. You know why? Because this time it’s not about me.
I’m not here begging you for another chance, for forgiveness. I’m here to save Outlaw. Sure, I could have gone on for an hour about how much I love you and how fine and noble you are, but I let your employees speak for you. Please don’t force them to go down with the ship, strapped in next to your pride.”

  She spun and headed for the door.

  He catapulted off the couch, got a sharp, agonizing pain in his ribs for his trouble, and gripped her arm, not about to let that baloney go unchallenged. “You think I’m going to let my company collapse because of my pride?”

  She muscled out of his grasp, but halted and faced him, arms crossed. Which was good because he wasn’t anywhere near finished.

  “No one is going to watch your collection of sentimental BS and elect to give me back my contracts over an emotional outpouring by a couple of people they’ve never met. If you want to help, march over to the AG and do your striptease for him. You wouldn’t be the first person to trade sex for a favor in the court system, and having sampled the goods, I’d say you have a shot at getting the charges dismissed.”

  The crack of her hand connecting with his cheek startled them both.

  “I’ll ignore that once,” he said, his voice low as the connection point heated and his pulse pounded in his throat with needle-like jabs. “Don’t do it again or you’ll be sorry.”

  “I won’t if you won’t.” She glared at him. “If you wanted to degrade me, you succeeded.”

  But it hadn’t changed anything. His energy and temper drained all at once, and he lost sight of what this exhausting encounter was about. “I’m tired. Can we be done here?”

  A wave of defeat passed over her features. “Yeah. I don’t have anything more. I’m sorry it wasn’t enough.”

  She grabbed the door handle but didn’t pull it. As if an invisible tether kept her from ever truly leaving. They’d been bound together for a long time. So long it was impossible to imagine being cut free.

  The presentation, while misguided, had been a massive effort. Even he could tell that. She’d contacted Layla, whom she’d never liked. She’d done the presentation naked, like he’d asked, though it had been a request born out of frustration and pain. And okay, he’d intended to humiliate her. Just like what happened to him every day when he went to court to hear allegations against his company. Instead, she didn’t seem all that humiliated and the whole thing had made him feel petty.

  Maybe she really was trying to save his company. He’d seen her hunched over a laptop, framed by the cabana’s only window, and only misplaced sentiment had stopped him from sending Moki to kick her out.

  Against his will, it softened the hard bitterness he’d nursed for what felt like forever. Far too long.

  “Good bye, Jesse,” she choked out through a sob.

  It echoed in the room and in his head. This was it. He’d never have to see her again, never have to bleed to make her happy and still come up short.

  With a muffled curse, he tore her hand off the handle and spun her into his arms. One good-bye hug. That’s all. One.

  She stiffened. An eternity later, she brought her arms up in a tight circle around his waist, sinking into him. They fit together, cleanly, like the teeth of clockwork gears.

  God above, she felt good. The embrace went on. And on. He couldn’t step away, couldn’t let her go. She was his, faults and all. Her strength seeped into him, making him feel whole all at once.

  Pressing her nose to his shirt, she inhaled. And that’s when he realized the dampness against his skin was her falling tears soaking the fabric. He angled his head and rested it on top of hers, her silky hair skimming across his cheek. Most mornings, he’d wake to it tangled around him, and the faint scent of coconut lingered on his skin the rest of the day. He’d missed it. Loved it. Loved her. Why couldn’t things have worked out?

  Anguish welled up and over before he could stop it, and a few of his own tears leaked out before he could catch them. Fantastic. Alexia was turning him into a big wuss.

  Snapping her head back, she studied his face, incredulity apparent. “Are you crying?”

  He scrambled to put a few steps between them, studiously avoiding her sharp gaze as he throttled back the wave of longing.

  Finally, he dried up enough to speak without fear of his voice cracking. “Just answer one question. Did you initiate the investigation because of the acquisition or something else?”

  “Jesse.” She shook her head. “I didn’t do anything on purpose. It was an accident. I will admit it was easy to believe you wanted the patent more than you wanted me. But regardless, I’m proud of you for finally expanding. Like you’ve talked about since as long as I can remember. I wish we’d been in a place where you felt like you could have told me.”

  “Me too.” Sourness laced his words, and the analog clock on the wall ticked loudly in the gloomy pause. He should have come clean with her about it in the hospital. Outlaw would still be in trouble, but at least their fragile relationship might not be in such a sad state. “I have to ask something else. Something we should have addressed a long time ago. Why didn’t you ever file the divorce papers?”

  He’d been banking on the fact that she hadn’t because she still loved him. Now he wasn’t so sure and this time, he wanted to cut all ties.

  “I was so mad at you for leaving, and I couldn’t see a way to get over losing the baby. I had to be proactive, to control something in our relationship. So I had the papers drawn up. I didn’t actually think you’d sign them. But then you did and…” She shrugged. “I guess you could say you called my bluff.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. You did the same thing to me when you changed the deal. After dinner that night, when we were dancing. But I didn’t realize at the time. That’s why I gave you the patent in the hospital. I wanted you to have a choice. I wanted to know you chose me for me, not because I coerced you.”

  Her eyes grew watery again. “I love you. You, not the patent. Give it to me now, and I’ll rip it up. Maybe prove something the presentation couldn’t.”

  Over his dead body would she sacrifice the only thing she had left on the ashes of their relationship. His turmoil shot off the charts. “What, Alexia? What would it prove other than all this was for nothing in the end? We both end up with zero from this fiasco. Maybe it’s for the best.”

  “Not zero,” she countered quietly. “Door’s still shut.”

  “What do you mean, the door’s still shut?” he raged. “Only because I stupidly stopped you from opening it and…” He trailed off as her meaning hit him. “The panic attacks are gone?”

  She nodded, eyes bright.

  “How?”

  “I did a little soul searching the other night. Turns out I have one,” she said wryly with a raised eyebrow. “And I recovered yours too, in the filing cabinet, filed under B for baby.”

  No point in pretending to misunderstand. She’d obviously found the outfit and note. “You have no right to go rifling through my filing cabinet,” he said without much heat. Seemed like all his secrets were destined to come out.

  “Why didn’t you talk to me about the baby?” she asked.

  “You have to ask? There wasn’t a lot of talking going on back then,” he said, and his throat contracted. Hadn’t seen that coming.

  “Tell me now.” She took his hand and led him back to the couch. The softness of her touch transfixed him, as did the empathy radiating from her. “I’m not going anywhere. Unless you make me.”

  He should kick her out. Cross the room, yank the door open, and boot her right in the butt. Except he didn’t want her to leave. Maybe he should leave. Jump up off this couch and…what? Go back to his empty bedroom and hurt?

  Instead, he opened his mouth, and to his bewilderment, words fell out. “I was furious. Convinced you’d gotten pregnant on purpose. Only thinking about yourself instead of me and what I wanted.”

  She flinched, gripped his hand tighter, but didn’t interrupt. The frustration and terror and outright fury of those weeks slam
med him again.

  “But it was too late. I had to adjust, order myself to get over the shock and the panic so I could be an adult about it. I mean, people have kids every day, and there’s nothing special about them, so I can do it too, right?”

  He’d repeated it so often, he almost believed it. But it was a lie—obviously there was something special about it or you’d trip over people all the time like Dolores… like his own mom. He’d watched her raise a family and knew he could never be that selfless.

  But he would try for Alexia. He’d always been willing to try, but he’d done a crappy job of letting her see that.

  “It was the hardest task I’ve ever had,” he said softly. “But gradually it started being a part of me. I’m going to be a dad. A father. I repeated it until it didn’t make my hands shake. Until I wasn’t terrified anymore.”

  A sharp pain in the palm of his other hand snagged his attention, and he looked down to see blood welling under his fingernails. He swallowed and watched it for a minute. “The baby was there and then just… gone. How was I supposed to cope, when I’d spent all that energy getting myself to a point where I could accept it, to come to terms with my wrecked timetable, only to lose the baby and you at the same time?”

  Tears coursed down her cheeks and some compulsion drew his thumb to them. Blood mixed with the tears, coloring them a pale pink. An appropriate parallel for their marriage.

  Silence fell, but he didn’t let go of her hand. There was more, much more he needed to get out. He cleared his throat. “What you said earlier, about admitting you screwed up and trying to fix it. It’s really bad at the factory. People are going to lose their jobs. I’m going to lose the company. I can’t stop it and neither can you, but I haven’t given you any credit for trying. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She laughed softly. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be apologizing here. Didn’t you get the memo?”

  He stared at the TV. “You set the investigation in motion, but it’s not your fault there were discrepancies. It’s mine. You were a convenient target for my frustrations with myself. Ben will get Outlaw out of trouble with the court, but it’s probably not going to matter in the end. The distributors are still going to balk, if they haven’t already found new manufacturers by then. The Sattlewhite deal is off the table. I’m having a hard time accepting that I can’t pull Outlaw out of this hole.”