Pretty Filthy Lies: An Unconventional Love Story (Pretty Broken Book 2)

by Jeana E. Mann

  THE FOLLOWING Monday, it was well past midnight when my doorbell rang. I ignored it. Although I was exhausted, I’d been drifting in and out of sleep for the past hour. When banging replaced the doorbell, I cracked one eye and sat up. If whoever it was kept up their ruckus, the neighbors would certainly call the cops.

  “Hold your horses,” I grumbled. “I’m coming. I’m coming.” As I stumbled toward the door, I pulled on an oversized T-shirt.

  I lifted on tiptoe to peer through the peephole. Crockett stood outside my door, hands shoved in his pockets, a frown on his face. The last I knew, he was still in jail, awaiting trial. I’d never expected to find him at my doorstep in the middle of the night.

  I opened the door. He brushed past me into the kitchen, pulled a carton of milk from the refrigerator, and drank out of the open top. “Thank fuck you’re home,” he said. “My key doesn’t work.”

  “I changed the locks,” I said. His appearance unsettled me for a number of reasons. Chiefly because dealing with him required an enormous amount of self-control and mental effort. “What are you doing here?” I remained at the foyer, front door gaping open.

  “Good to see you, too, sis.” He peered over the top of the milk at me then shrugged. “I got released.”

  “No shit, Einstein. How?” Recovering, I shut the door and crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Don’t you worry about it. God, I’m starving.” After a quick perusal of the fridge, he grabbed a carton of leftover Chinese and began to pick out pieces of General Tsao’s chicken with his fingers. “Jail food is crap.”

  “When did you get out?”

  “Yesterday.” He carried the food to the sofa, where he collapsed onto the cushions with a heavy sigh.

  “You can’t stay here.”

  “Oh, come on, Kota. Just for tonight.” With a contented growl, he propped his feet on the coffee table and pointed the remote at the TV. “I spent last night on the street. You have no idea how weird that was. Did you know there’s, like, an entire homeless community living under the expressway bridge?”

  The idea of my baby brother sleeping under an interstate highway like some kind of hobo brought the sting of tears to the backs of my eyes. My resolve wavered and crumbled. I couldn’t turn him away, could I? My mother always preached forgiveness. How was I any better than Crockett? I wanted Sam to forgive me. Wasn’t I being a hypocrite—withholding forgiveness to one person while seeking it from another?

  “Fine. One night.” I rubbed my eyes, too tired to continue the fight. “Tomorrow you have to find somewhere else to stay.”

  “Sure. Thanks,” he replied through a mouthful of food. “You got any ice cream?”

  Back in my bed, it occurred to me that we had come full circle. Crockett was back under my roof. I was once again pining for Sam. How did this keep happening? The bedcovers rustled with each of my movements as I sought for a comfortable position and found none. Ten years had passed, and yet nothing had changed.

  When morning arrived, I woke Crockett with a shake of his shoulder. He scowled and rolled away. I shook him a second time with more force. Sam and Rockwell would be arriving any minute, and I needed Crockett out of the apartment before I left.

  “Get up.” I yanked the covers away and tossed them onto a chair. “I have to leave for work.”

  “Dakota,” he whined. “Come on. I’m exhausted.” I opened the curtains. Bright yellow sunshine puddled on his face. He threw a forearm over his eyes. “I’ll lock up when I leave.”

  “No, Crockett.” When he didn’t budge, I pulled the pillow from beneath his head and bopped him in the face with it. “You can’t stay here. I’m serious.”

  “Fuck.” He sat up, rubbing his eyes, hair limp over his forehead. “Fine. I don’t know where you expect me to go at this ungodly hour.”

  “How about to the Urban Employment Office?” I picked up his shoes from the floor and tossed them at him. “They have these things there called jobs. Maybe you could get one.”

  “I’ve already been down there. They don’t have anything.”

  “Then go back and ask again. And tomorrow and the day after.” I shouldered the strap of my purse and nudged him toward the door. “You can come back when you have a job.”

  Once he saw the determination on my face, he sighed and trudged down the hall to the elevator with me. We rode downstairs in silence. At the front door, he caught sight of Sam standing next to the car chatting with Rockwell. Crockett turned narrowed eyes on me. “So you’re back with him again?” The disapproval in his voice stirred my temper. “Didn’t you get enough of the Seaforths the first time around?”

  “Don’t start with me,” I hissed, keeping my voice low so Sam couldn’t hear.

  “Why not? You rag on me constantly.”

  “Everything okay?” Sam approached. His wary gaze flicked from me to Crockett and back to me again.

  “Hey, Sammy.” Crockett lifted his chin in greeting. “Long time no see.”

  “Crockett.” Sam stared back at him but didn’t offer his hand.

  “Well, I’m out, boy scouts. See you around.” Crockett turned his back to us and ambled down the street at a casual pace. I tracked him with my gaze as far as I could until he turned the corner, and wondered with a bitter pang if I’d ever see him again.

  Chapter 15

  Dakota

  WHEN I’D warned Sam about John MacGruder, I’d meant every word of it. He was shrewd, savvy, and every bit as dangerous as Sam when it came to business. Beneath MacGruder’s civil exterior lurked a man accustomed to winning. Sam had backed him into a corner, and MacGruder wouldn’t lie down without a fight.

  Over coffee and pastries, the three of us sat in the conference room of MacGruder & Sons. The polite conversation was over, and the war had begun.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” John said. “Deal’s off.”

  “We shook hands. You can’t back out now,” Sam replied, tone quiet and easy.

  To the untrained eye, the two men seemed friendly, casual. MacGruder leaned back in his seat, one arm thrown over the back of the empty chair beside him. He rested an ankle on his opposite knee. Sam loosened his tie then lifted his coffee cup to take a drink. The room crackled with testosterone and animosity, enough to lift the tiny hairs on the back of my neck.

  “Handshakes don’t mean shit. Pardon the language, Dakota,” John said with a small nod in my direction. “You know that, Sam. The only thing I agreed upon was to listen to your proposal.”

  Sam shrugged. “You’re still in a tight spot. You either have to sell to me or let my father ruin you. It’s just a matter of time.”

  The set of MacGruder’s mouth tightened. He ran a finger around the rim of his coffee cup. “So you’re drawing a line in the sand? Either join up with you or fall to him? Frankly, I don’t like any of those options.”

  “Look, John.” Sam leaned forward, features earnest. “My dad plans to drive you into the ground and take this company for nothing.”

  “You know what I think?” John’s face grew redder with each passing moment. “I think he sent you here to do his dirty work. Good cop, bad cop. You make the sweet offer. He makes the hard threats. Either way, he wins. And I’ll tell you right now, I’d rather go down in a ball of fiery flames than roll over and die to either one of you.” He slammed his fist on the table with so much force my coffee cup jumped on its saucer. I bit my lower lip and began to doodle in the margin of the paper.

  “Look. I’d rather have you on board with this, but I don’t need your permission to take you over.” The steely edge in Sam’s voice made my head snap up. I was a combination of impressed and repulsed by this latest side of him. “I’m giving you a choice on how this is going to go down.”

  “Don’t threaten me.” John’s voice shook. “You’re not your father. I don’t owe you anything, and I sure as shit am not scared of you.” He stood, his chair scraping across the floor like nails on a chalkboard. “Now, I think it’s time for you to go.”

>   Sam stood. Both men eyed each other, shoulders squared and chests expanded. It would’ve been comical if it hadn’t been so frightening.

  “Wait.” I put a hand on John’s sleeve. He glanced down at me, having forgotten I was even there.

  Sam frowned. “Let’s go, Dakota,” he said. “We’re done here.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said, amazed by my own boldness.

  Sam’s eyes blazed down at me, full of warning. His head shook by the slightest degree, imperceptible to anyone but me.

  I bumbled forward anyway. I turned to John. “Sam’s right. You’re in a tight spot. If you don’t sell out, you’re going to go under. I’ve looked at all the properties you’re sitting on, their demographics, the comp studies. You lost your ass on the last couple of deals.”

  “Dakota.” John’s eyes narrowed. Between his warning glare and Sam’s growing irritation, I was treading on shaky ground. “I appreciate your—”

  “Just hear me out,” I interrupted. “Maybe there’s a way for both of you to get what you want.”

  “Will you excuse us for a minute?” Sam gripped my elbow and pulled me out of the room and into the hallway. I trotted on tiptoe beside him, cheeks burning with humiliation. Once outside the room, he trapped me against the wall, eyes brimming with green fire. “What the hell are you doing, Dakota? I’ve got him right where I want him.”

  “He’s throwing us out. I wouldn’t call it a success.” I yanked my arm from his grip and stared back at him, jaw jutted in defiance.

  “It’s part of the game. I lowball him. He turns me down. Next week, he’ll be begging for a new offer.” Sam cast a fake smile at the admin walking past us, but his anger returned the second she turned the corner. He bent, nose inches from mine, and spoke in a harsh whisper. “Let me run my business. What part of that don’t you get?”

  “You’re screwing it up,” I hissed. “He’s not like other people. I’m telling you, if we walk out this door, he’s not going to give us another chance.”

  We glared at each other, chests heaving with conviction and attraction. The starch from his shirt mingled with the scents of shower gel and cologne. I drew in a heady lungful. This combination, along with the fire in his eyes, caused my panties to dampen. In spite of our dispute, I was more turned on than I’d been in ages. I wanted to fist a hand in his hair and yank his mouth to mine for a hot, wet kiss.

  His gaze dipped to my lips then lifted to my eyes. He looked inside me, so deep I felt naked and alone in an office full of people. My bones liquefied from the intensity of his scrutiny and the certainty that he was just as turned on as I was.

  “You’d better not fuck this up,” he said, drawing up to his full height. He tugged on the cuffs of his shirt and exhaled.

  “And what if I do?” I lifted my chin, faking the confidence I didn’t feel. “Are you going to spank me?”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” A hint of amusement curved his amazing lips. He touched a finger to the tip of my nose. “Maybe I will.”

  “Have a little faith.” I smoothed a hand over his lapel, trying to hide the surge of triumph rushing through my veins like a drug. “Just sit back and let me do my thing.”

  Chapter 16

  Sam

  THE CAR glided silently along the streets. Dakota sat in the corner, arms crossed over her chest, facing the window. I pretended to be checking emails on my phone, but I was really dissecting the emotions flicking across her face. They ranged in rapid succession from irritation and anger to embarrassment and disappointment. I could tell by the way she held her lower lip between her teeth that she was bracing for my wrath. Dakota had said her piece to MacGruder. He’d listened politely then asked us to leave. She thought she’d failed when in fact, she’d been brilliant. She’d suggested we work together, that maybe MacGruder might want to unload some of his properties in exchange for retaining control of a portion of his business.

  Dakota, being smart as well as pretty, had figured out what each of us needed from the deal. I needed MacGruder’s land to squelch my father’s stadium deal. MacGruder needed cold, hard cash to save his business. What Dakota didn’t know was that I’d leveraged every one of my personal assets and a few of Infinity’s to buy out MacGruder. By suggesting a compromise, she might have saved me from bankruptcy.

  I should’ve been panicked about my financial situation, but I’d learned long ago that the biggest risks resulted in the biggest payoffs. I was desperate for revenge. And as Maxwell Seaforth always said, a man with nothing to lose was the most dangerous of all adversaries. I had nothing to lose, and I was desperate as they came.

  I let Dakota stew on her aggravation for a few miles, certain she’d be unable to maintain silence for long. Nothing turned me on more than her fire. She never backed down from a good fight, even when she was wrong. When we were married, we’d fought hard and fucked harder. She shifted twice, the leather creaking beneath her with each movement. At last, she snorted through her nose, an adorable noise of irritation, and turned to face me.

  “Well, go ahead,” she said. ”I know you’re dying to say it.”

  “Say what?” I asked, looking up from my phone.

  “I told you so.” She wrinkled her nose.

  “I told you so,” I replied and returned my gaze to the phone, biting back a smile.

  “Is that it? No lecture? No big speech about letting you run your business?”

  “Nope.” I continued tapping out the reply to a group text from Beckett and Tucker, requesting my presence at the bar later for drinks.

  “I thought you were going to make me pay.” Her voice held a note of anxiety mixed with interest.

  Sexual electricity hummed between us. My gaze drifted to her leg, the long stretch of trim calf, her slender ankle, followed by a vision of how those legs would feel wrapped around my waist. “I will.” I liked keeping her on edge and, by the flush of her cheeks, she liked it too. “You can take that to the bank.”

  “When?” She inched closer until our knees touched.

  “Later.” I kept my head down, smiling while she huffed.

  “I hope I didn’t ruin everything. I really thought I had it.”

  In spite of my best efforts, I couldn’t resist taking her by the chin and pressing my lips to hers. She tasted sweet, like cotton candy. It was her lip gloss. When we parted, I licked my lips, savoring the sweetness, my cock instantly hard. “It’ll be fine.” I spoke with conviction, but my chest tightened with anxiety. How could I convince her when I couldn’t even convince myself?

  The car stopped. Rockwell came around to open my door. I got out, Dakota behind me, and came face to face with Dahlia. Her gaze lingered on my lips for an inappropriate amount of time before flicking to Dakota. She nodded in greeting then moved inside the building. I’d known Dahlia long enough to know something was on her mind, and I had a feeling it wasn’t good.

  I’d barely settled into my office when Dahlia appeared. With so many things on my mind, I didn’t have time for Dahlia and her petty games. I was eager to get back to the business of business.

  “What’s up?” I asked while powering up my computer. “Make it quick.”

  “What’s going on with you and Dakota?” She didn’t sit but stood in front of my desk, arms folded over her chest like a shield.

  “Nothing.” A quick flash of guilt swept through me, the same way I’d felt when I was caught stealing cookies from the kitchen as a kid. Only this time, I hadn’t stolen anything. I had taken what was mine, and it felt damn good.

  “You’ve got lip gloss all over your mouth.” She grabbed a tissue from the dispenser on the corner of my desk and held it out to me.

  I didn’t take it. Instead, I ran my tongue over my lower lip, savoring again the lingering taste of Dakota’s mouth on mine. “Not your business, Dahlia,” I said, returning my attention to the flood of emails pouring into my inbox.

  “It is my business when half the office knows what you’re doing with her. I mean, really
, Sam? You bring her to work every day. Rockwell takes her home at night. I turned a blind eye to the interns, but this is getting out of hand. At least you stayed under the radar with the others.”

  “Once again, not your business,” I replied, feeling the sting of irritation.

  “I’m only saying this as a friend. You don’t want a sexual harassment lawsuit, do you?” She shook her head, an expression of disappointment on her face.

  I sighed and sat back in my chair, closing my eyes for a few seconds to gather my thoughts. She wasn’t going to give up, and worst of all, she was right. The other employees were already talking; rumors were circulating. I’d seen the way they ignored Dakota and heard their whispers whenever we walked by.

  “She’s my ex-wife.” The confession slipped out much more easily than I’d anticipated. This was huge. I felt lighter almost immediately. The sooner everyone knew, the sooner I could quit pretending Dakota meant nothing to me.

  “You mean she’s the one?” The look of shocked disbelief on Dahlia’s face would’ve been comical if it had been any other circumstance. “Sam? What in the hell are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking this conversation is over.” I returned my attention to the computer monitor. “Shut the door on your way out, would you?”

  Chapter 17

  Dakota

  WHEN I got home that evening, I found Crockett sitting in the hallway, leaning against my apartment door. His clothes were smeared with dirt. A limp, greasy lock of his hair hung over one eye. I sniffed the air and winced when I got close.

  “You stink,” I said, waving a hand in front of my face.

  “And you’re ugly, but I still love you,” he replied. He got to his feet and watched while I unlocked the door. “Can I come in?”

  “Did you get a job?” I stared warily at him, torn between doing the right thing or the easy thing. Part of me wanted to give him a hug, tell him everything would be okay, and make us dinner. Another part of me knew I would only be inviting trouble for the both of us if I let him in.