Dangerous Exes (Liars, Inc. Book 2)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  He didn’t take the spoon.

  No, because this was Jessie sexy Beckett.

  He grabbed my damn wrist, wrapped his fingers around it tightly then pulled my arm forward and opened his luscious mouth—the one that probably licked the tears of all the virgins he’d deflowered—and wrapped it around the spoon. His tongue came out next.

  My eyes bulged a bit as he worked the spoon like he knew his way around a woman’s body and wanted me to know he knew.

  I flexed my legs.

  I clenched.

  I almost crossed.

  And then he was done.

  So I exhaled in relief.

  “Good,” he said, winking. “The ratio needs work.”

  He walked right by me into his property. Damn it.

  “Well.” I trailed after him. “We can’t all be perfect.”

  He flinched at my obvious jab, then turned around. “Two hours a day.”

  I almost dropped the peanut butter. “Two hours a day you work out?”

  “That too,” he said seriously. “But I have a proposition. Until this is all over with, whenever that is, we spend two hours a day getting to know each other. I won’t go into this the way I went into my last one.”

  “Oh? And how was that?”

  “Blind.” He said it so quickly I almost felt guilty for cursing him to hell a few minutes ago. “Colin warned me about his sister, but I was convinced I’d seen a different side of her, and well, I’m stubborn. I’d always wanted her and I was thrilled when the girl I’d always chased finally gave me the time of day.”

  It was more than I knew.

  More than Blaire had told me when Colin explained their relationship.

  He shifted on his feet and did a small circle like he didn’t know what to do with his massive body. “It won’t look good that I know nothing about you and you know nothing about me. If we want to sell it, I need to know everything, the good . . .” He licked his lips and turned, giving me his back. “The bad, the ugly . . .”

  “I’m a freak,” I admitted.

  He froze and then looked over his shoulder. “Care to elaborate or do you want me to guess?” His smile was back.

  I licked the peanut butter from my lips then smacked them together. “Guess.”

  “In bed?”

  I snorted out a laugh. “That would be your first guess.”

  He tapped his chin, slowly approaching with a sexy-as-hell gait before stopping in front of me. “In the kitchen?”

  “Nope.”

  “Shower.”

  “How are you a freak in the shower?”

  He burst out laughing. “That’s fair . . .” He circled and then stopped behind me, putting his hands on my shoulders. So silent. I wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. “By the looks of the place I’d say you’re a clean freak, but then so am I . . . not a thing out of place—”

  “Is our two hours starting now?”

  “Better now than never.”

  “Okay.”

  He guided me to the couch I’d had delivered from my apartment and then grabbed the blanket and put it over my legs.

  Did he know I always used that blanket?

  Why did I care that he cared?

  Why was I still staring at the blanket like he’d just given me his firstborn?

  “A freak . . .” He stared at my makeshift coffee table, eyebrows raised. “Well, I think I figured it out—you hate being late.”

  I gasped and quickly tried to hide my schedule for the week, but he had already grabbed it. “You do realize people don’t use paper anymore, or highlighters really? You could just put everything in your phone?”

  I snatched the papers away and held them to my chest. “I know, but what if I lose my phone?”

  He gave me a blank stare and then smiled wide. “So this is your backup.” He lifted his hands and made air quotes. “Just in case?”

  “Your air quotes are insulting.”

  He did them again as he said, “So, this backup schedule, is it the only one? I mean what if your house burns down?”

  My eyes widened in panic.

  He grabbed my wrist. “Okay, I believe you, no need to make copies.”

  I was already itching, thinking of the worst.

  “Isla”—he tilted my chin toward him—“I won’t judge you if you do. And since you let me in on the secret, I’ll even let you use the copier in the house, just don’t sit on it butt-ass naked and leave evidence.”

  “Fun ruiner,” I joked, suddenly feeling lighter than I had all night.

  “Well, we did say rules needed to be established. I’ll say that’s rule number one.”

  “Rule two can be no walking around in socks without shoes, I hate socks, they seem unclean.”

  He stared me down. “What if they’re clean socks I put on while looking for my shoes?”

  “What if you wait to put on your gross socks until after you locate your shoes?”

  “Ah, an answer for everything.” He was so close to me I could see the flecks of gold in his clear blue eyes.

  I shrugged and backed against the couch. “So, what are we going to do for another”—I checked my watch—“hour and forty-two minutes?”

  His eyes dragged down my body before returning to my face. “I could think of a few things.”

  I gulped.

  But he didn’t act on anything and instead nodded to the TV. “We could binge-watch a show, I’ll even let you make little structured discussion sheets with a highlighter . . .”

  I smacked him on the leg as my eyes lit up.

  “Oh God, I love that you’re actually excited about taking notes.”

  “It’s calming!”

  “So why don’t you color? It’s the new thing! Coloring books, markers . . .”

  “It’s like coloring.” I adjusted the blanket. “With labels.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You have a label maker, don’t you?”

  “It only makes sense, so I don’t have to look inside my containers.”

  “Or drawers?” he said.

  I didn’t answer.

  He moved so fast, one minute he was sitting next to me, the next he was in my bedroom, a look of extreme disappointment on his face. He shook his head and pointed to the label on the top drawer of my dresser. “Lingerie.”

  My face burned red.

  He licked his lips. “What? You think you might forget it’s the first drawer?”

  I crossed my arms. “Really want to get into this, Mr. Black-and-White Everything—”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “So how about that show?”

  “I pick first?”

  He walked with me back into the living room. I grabbed my laptop and popped it open.

  “No TV?” He frowned.

  I shrugged. “No need.”

  I didn’t realize how close we’d have to sit.

  Or how good he would smell.

  Or how many sex scenes would be in the new American Gods show.

  But there it was.

  Sex.

  Me.

  A too-hot blanket.

  And Jessie’s massive body next to mine.

  I fell asleep that way, against something warm.

  And woke up with a blanket covering my body and a smile on my face.

  Chapter Fifteen

  JESSIE

  Two weeks ago, if someone had told me that I’d be walking into Tiffany’s ready to pick out a ring for my new fiancée, I would have laughed in their face and then gotten drunk at the nearest bar.

  Marriage hadn’t been good to me.

  It had been a nasty little bastard I never wanted to face again.

  And yet, there I was.

  Hand in hand with possibly the most intimidating woman I’d ever met, pasting a fake smile on my face.

  Fuck how history repeated itself.

  “You don’t have to look so excited,” she said through clenched teeth, and then she winked and wrapped her arms around my neck and just hung there, her white
blouse open enough for me to see her right breast and pale, silky-smooth skin. “I’ll let you cop a feel if your smile reaches here.” She tapped the side of my temple and grinned wider. “Come on, pumpkin, it will be just like junior high only this time the girl is letting you, and you aren’t begging for a look at her boobs.”

  I wrapped my arms tightly around her waist. “What makes you think I had to beg?”

  She scrunched up her nose. “I had you pegged as the creepy nerdy kid who stared at girls during lunchtime while playing with Star Trek action figures—am I that far off base?”

  I leaned down and brushed my nose across her cheek as I whispered in her ear, “Try GI Joes.”

  Isla licked her lips and gripped my biceps. “They mentored you well.”

  I was smiling before I realized it as she clung to my bicep like she was getting ready to take a swing from it and shout to the world how big, bad, and strong I was. The longer I thought about it, the harder I smiled.

  “There it is.” She released my arm.

  My smile fell.

  Vanessa had never touched me because she wanted me—at least that’s what I’d come to realize—she touched me because she wanted something from me.

  There was a big difference in the way a woman touched you for her needs, or touched you for your own.

  Isla touched me for me.

  “Alright.” Isla tapped her ear as someone got out of a car and took a picture of us. “You got your earpiece in?”

  “I still don’t understand why I need Colin to coach me through a fucking proposal, I know how to propose.”

  Isla covered her smile with her hand. “So what was your plan then? Let me guess, get down on one knee, say something like I can’t imagine my life without you?”

  I felt my face heat. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Everything,” she huffed as I opened the door for her and pressed my hand to the small of her back.

  “How so?”

  One of the managers weaved her way toward us, a tight bun pulled low on her head, her lipstick bright red, and her eyes lasered in on us with such intensity I almost saw dollar signs in her gaze. I’d called ahead to let them know we were coming, but beyond that, everything needed to look real, like we were just looking.

  Isla turned and faced me, her eyes searching mine. “Because, Jessie, life is supposed to be shared, it’s a partnership. Things don’t work out when you feel the need to fully depend on that other person for your own happiness. The fact is, you should be able to imagine your life without the person you love—the difference is, you shouldn’t want to. Get it?”

  My jaw went slack as the manager clasped her hands in front of us. “I’m Janie, I’ll be personally escorting you around our lovely store this evening. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve already prepared a few of our favorite pieces for your inspection.”

  I almost snorted at the word inspection.

  What? Like we were buying a house?

  After the first price tag, I imagined I could buy three houses, but it didn’t matter, this was part of it. Besides, unless Isla fled the country, the ring was going to be returned.

  Maybe I’d handcuff her every night to my bedpost just in case.

  I squirmed at the thought.

  Heat filled my veins, causing a bead of sweat to run down the back of my neck. I cleared my throat as Janie pulled out another ring.

  “Shit, that’s a lot of money,” Colin said in my ear as I inspected the three-carat piece. It had a center princess-cut stone in a vintage two-prong band, but it felt too . . . normal.

  And our situation was anything but normal.

  “I like this,” Isla said in that professional voice I was starting to hate. It seemed fake, like she was trying to please everyone else in the universe but herself.

  “It’s not her,” I found myself saying without hesitation, and Janie and Isla shared a look.

  “He’s sweet,” Janie said while Isla narrowed her eyes at me as if to say What’s the big deal? Just pick a ring out!

  “You think you know me so well . . .” Her voice held a teasing note, a challenge.

  I crossed my arms. “I better since I’m sharing a life with you, isn’t that what you said earlier?”

  Her face flushed before she motioned to the rings. “Then pick.”

  The gauntlet was thrown.

  I stared at the rings, everything was simple, elegant, unique, like the shiny façade she put on every single day in order to do her job.

  But it wasn’t her.

  It was missing something.

  Like life.

  I exhaled and nodded to Janie. “I want something with a different color, antique, trendy, something that stands out, that wants to be heard.”

  Isla paled next to me.

  I took her hand and squeezed it.

  Janie smiled. “I think I have exactly what you’re looking for.”

  She pulled out another set of rings, and before she even set it down, I pointed. “That one, right there.”

  Janie practically clapped her hands and started jumping. “The Soleste Pear, yellow diamond surrounded by white diamonds—one of our most unique rings. Though typically they only go up to a two carat, the one you’ve set your eye on is nearly four carats.”

  Isla looked ready to pass out.

  “Four carats,” I repeated out loud while Colin cursed in my ear like he was the one having to shell out a shit ton of money for a fake engagement.

  But the moment felt . . . right, as I picked up the ring and faced Isla. Her hand shook as I slid the ring onto her finger. “Perfect fit.”

  Janie’s sigh was loud enough to get the attention of the entire store.

  Slowly, I bent down on one knee and held on to Isla’s small hands.

  I had no idea why I was shaking right along with her.

  Why I suddenly had no idea how to use the words floating around my brain, or why my tongue stopped working all at once.

  Colin cleared his throat in my earpiece. “Tell her she’s beautiful, she’s the only woman you see and—”

  “Isla.” I ignored his protests about going rogue. “Share this life with me, not because I can’t do it on my own—but because I can’t imagine going another day without you by my side, without waking up next to you, touching you, laughing with you. I want you to belong to me, the way I already belong to you. Please say yes?”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Didn’t think you had it in you.” Colin sounded surprised.

  Isla quickly gave her head a shake, rose to her feet, and pulled me in for a brief kiss before whispering against my lips, “Yes!”

  Janie cheered as clapping and whistles sounded around the store. Isla leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Good job, Colin.”

  Rejection was swift.

  I deflated a bit.

  And swore in that moment I’d do anything so she’d never find out the truth.

  It wasn’t Colin saying those words. Prompting me.

  They seemed to come from somewhere more terrifying.

  More confusing.

  A place that felt like my heart.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ISLA

  I toyed with the ring on my finger, twisting it around and around. It was soothing, the continuous movement, and yet every time my fingers touched the giant rock, I wanted to look down.

  Fought the desire to stare at my left hand in awe.

  Wayne had never bought me a ring. We were supposed to pick it out together. But he was always too busy.

  I dreamed of having an actual Tiffany’s experience, one where a gorgeous loyal man stood by my side, then fell to his knees with adoration and told me to pick whatever I wanted. It seemed so romantic to have someone take care of me like that, and now, now that I had it, I wanted to cry, because it wasn’t real, none of this was, and for a fleeting moment, I closed my eyes and told myself it was, because it felt good to be treasured, desired.

  The only person in my life who knew about m
y dreams was Blaire, which meant this was her first brilliant idea.

  Encouraged by Colin.

  Begrudgingly accepted by Jessie after a few minutes of begging on their end while I downed another cup of coffee.

  When I woke up this morning, I had one plan.

  Go to work, annoy the hell out of Jessie, have a relaxing yoga session, then go home and open a bottle of wine.

  Instead, I was riding in a Tesla toward West Hollywood for a late bite to eat with Jessie so we could be “seen.”

  Colin and Blaire were meeting us there.

  My nerves were already shot.

  And my hand felt heavy.

  “You’re quiet,” Jessie said as he parked at The Catch. I’d only ever eaten there once but was excited to fill the weird-feeling void in my stomach with something of substance.

  I unbuckled my seat belt. “Sorry, just thinking.”

  “Bullshit,” Jessie teased. “That’s the look of a plotter right there, better get that planner out and highlight some things.” He had the nerve to touch my cheek with his finger.

  I smacked his hand away and tried not to smile. “No touching.”

  “I just spent over six figures on a ring, I think I should be at least allowed to touch your cheek.”

  I smiled over at him. “Imagine what you could have touched had you spent twice that?”

  I was teasing.

  I knew it.

  He knew it.

  Regardless, the air was suddenly sucked from the car as we stared at one another, breathing became more difficult as seconds of silence ticked by. Why? Why was he so impossible to resist?

  Jessie was the first to regain his composure. “Just don’t follow me into the bathroom or do any of your crazy PI shit, we’re supposed to be in a loving relationship.”

  I snorted. “You even know what that looks like?”

  It was a low blow, but he threw me off balance, made me feel panicked and out of control—something I would never get used to.

  “This coming from the girl who’s never even been married?” Jessie whistled as he slammed the door shut, leaving me in the car by myself.

  I deserved that.

  And then my door opened and he offered his hand.

  I took it and stood. He jerked me to his chest, my head nearly knocked out his chin.

  “Just leave crazy Isla in the car,” he said.