Dangerous Exes (Page 26)

He winked and eyed the front of my open blouse. “I saw a lot of things with those binoculars.”

“Pig.”

“Stop deflecting.” He moved around the island, put one finger under the glass, and started moving it toward my lips. “I promise, this is my gift in life.”

“Making people choke?” I said sweetly.

“Didn’t choke last night, did you?”

My face went hot. “N-no.”

“Drink.” We were chest to chest. I wasn’t breathing, was I breathing? “I promise, you’ll not only like it, you’ll ask for more.”

“Doubtful,” I said in a breathy voice.

He shrugged and fired right back, “Trust me.”

I hated that I did.

I hated that when I looked into his eyes I saw no maliciousness, just . . . kindness. Ugh, he needed to revert to his jackass ways fast before I fell head over heels and begged him to impregnate me with the next NFL star.

I needed logic.

Order.

My aunt.

I needed to visit my aunt.

She’d know what to do.

She practically balanced other people’s chi by just existing!

I didn’t plug my nose even though I wanted to. I tilted my head back and drank, then swallowed.

“So?” He looked so proud of himself I wanted to dump the shake over his head. Whatever the hell it was—it was good.

“It’s . . .” I shrugged. “Drinkable.”

“Drinkable,” he repeated. “If it was white like a vanilla shake you’d say it was the best thing to pass those lips of yours.”

“Not the best thing,” I said without thinking, causing the sexual tension to skyrocket so fast my vision blurred.

His body moved toward mine. He pulled the glass from my hand and set it on the counter, his arms moved, and I was pinned against the granite. “Oh yeah?”

I licked my lips, still somehow tasting him there, greedy for more. I leaned in, he met me halfway.

The doorbell rang, jolting us away from each other.

“Expecting company?” I laughed nervously.

He pushed off the counter and ran his hands through his hair, then made his way to the door, jerking it open so hard I thought it was going to splinter in his right hand.

“Sir.” One of the guards I’d seen the other night was talking in hushed tones. He eyed me and nodded, kept talking to Jessie, then hung his head and left.

Jessie kicked the wall with his bare foot at least three times, then slammed the door, opened it, and slammed it again.

I jumped as he kicked the door again then slumped to the ground in a hunched position.

“Jessie?”

“Not now, Isla.” His voice was barely a whisper.

I made my way to him and knelt down only to have him hold up his hand for me to stop. Hurt, I backed away.

“Vanessa must have seen the show last night.”

I flinched at the words, because yes, it had been a show, but both of us knew there was more hanging in the balance than that, we were completely blurring the lines. And he was an equal participant in that.

“And?” I prodded.

He stood and faced me. “You fucking said this would go away? Let’s get engaged, you said, let’s get in the spotlight, show our love!” His voice rose until I was backing away from this man I didn’t know, this angry, out-of-control man. “She must have gotten pissed that people were switching sides, because she just dropped a bomb . . .”

I was afraid to ask.

“She said we separated because I asked her for an abortion. Yup, said my career was more important, it’s all over the news.”

“But it’s not true!” I could kill that woman. “She was the one who got the abortion without telling you.”

Jessie narrowed his gaze on me. “Specu-fucking-lation. Isn’t that what you said? People would rather root for my downfall than my success, and she’s just made sure I’m never coming back.” He wiped his face. “Shit.”

My first reaction was to cry.

My second was to get even.

Head held high, I walked to him. “I’m a PI, this is what I do, Jessie. I’ll get her confession, I’ll expose her lie.” I crossed my arms. “All you gotta do is let me.” Anxiety filled my chest at the thought of more work, but if I didn’t do this, we’d lose everything. Everything.

“You’re the reason I’m in this situation.”

“So let me continue to help you out of it,” I fired back. “We’re already getting married, what’s a little espionage on top of that?”

“You’re going to spy on her and your ex? The one you hate? The one who would recognize you in a heartbeat if you got too close? Not to mention Vanessa?”

I shrugged. “I’m a professional, of course I’m not going to spy as me when necessary, but with Vanessa, why not spy out in public? She’s already suspicious.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re serious?”

“Engaged by day.” I flashed him my ring. “Spy by night.” I held up my hand like I was swearing an oath. “What do you say?”

He stood and crossed his arms, staring me down before saying, “You should have been an army general.”

I grinned. “Thank you.”

“Wasn’t a compliment.”

“Yeah it was.”

He snorted and then opened his mouth, his face looked sad, repentant, but I kept my emotions on lockdown, I didn’t want his apology. I’d already seen how quick he could turn against me.

Our two hours. Those were ours.

But that wasn’t life.

And this wasn’t reality.

“I’m going to go visit my aunt and then head to work. I’ll text you later and we can have a powwow and make a game plan with Blaire, alright?”

He frowned. “Look, Isla, I’m—”

“See ya.” I flashed a smile I didn’t feel and fled the house. I drove across town to Aunt Betsy’s retirement home.

When I pulled in, I was fighting tears.

By the time I made it to her apartment, they were streaming down my face. I knocked on the door.

She jerked it open. “You bring coffee?”

“No.” I sucked my tears back in.

She shrugged. “Take off your shoes.”

I tossed them to the side and walked to the living room, where she had a pot of tea and two cups already on the table. “Sit.”

The plastic on the couch made a comforting noise as I sat and faced her. She grabbed the plastic-covered remote and clicked down the volume. “Why are you crying?”

I shrugged. “It’s a long story.”

“Does it have anything to do with that man?”

The way she said man almost sounded like a curse.

“Uh, yeah.” I was wearing my ring on my left hand. She’d be hurt if she thought I got engaged without her—then again, her favorite show was TMZ, so she probably already knew. “We’re kind of engaged.”

She sniffed. “And you did not tell your Aunt Betsy you were making sex with him because?”

“We aren’t ‘making sex.’” I used Jessie’s dumb air quotes.

She slapped my hands down. “You engaged, Isla! Of course you are making the sex! That is what you do! You lay down, you put your legs high into the air, and—”

“Ohhhh, Goo-Poh, we had the sex talk years ago.”

“I refresh your memory!” She seemed so excited about it that I almost felt bad.