Dangerous Exes (Page 45)

She lowered the wine list and reached her hand across the table. At first I thought she was going for her water, but she kept moving. I gripped her fingertips and immediately a pulse of heat sizzled between our palms.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“What are you sorry about? I mean other than the chickens.”

She bit her lower lip like she was thinking and then pursed her lips. “I’m sorry for last night.”

“We had sex four times last night. Please don’t be sorry,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

She released my hand and smacked my arm. “That’s not what I’m talking about. I guess I’m just sorry about not trusting you.”

I held my breath.

“I do,” she said in a small voice. “I’m trying. I want to. I . . . trust you.”

I almost jumped out of my seat and threw a fist into the air, instead I went with “Thank you.”

My first mistake was being too engrossed with Isla to check my surroundings.

My second mistake was thinking that I could get away with a lunch date without being noticed.

“Hey.” A woman with a low-cut crop top walked up to our table and started jumping up and down. “You’re Jessie Beckett!”

“I am.”

Isla pulled her hands away from me.

“And you!” She turned to Isla, shocking the hell out of me. “How dare you!”

“Excuse me?” Isla looked between me and the girl.

“Homewrecker,” she muttered. “I can’t believe you’d break up—”

“Okay.” I stood. “I think it’s time for you to go, and for the record, my wife was cheating on me, and the lady you just insulted was the one who, though in a backward way, discovered it for me—”

“But—”

“Leave.” I gritted my teeth. “Before I call the police.”

“Asshole,” she said under her breath before stomping off.

Yeah, I’d made a scene.

I was still shaking.

“Jessie.” Isla reached for me.

I sighed and stared at her outstretched hand, then took it. I wasn’t that guy, the one who yelled at fans. The one who lost his fucking mind in public.

That wasn’t me.

I’d been trained by Vanessa to keep calm in front of others, always smiling, always fake.

“Thank you,” Isla whispered. She stood and pulled me into her arms and then braced my face with both of her hands. “You know, you’re pretty protective of the woman who ruined your life.”

I kissed the inside of her right wrist and whispered back, “You didn’t ruin it—you saved it.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

ISLA

“This is . . .” I put my hands on my hips while Jessie looked ready to strangle Goo-Poh where she stood.

I didn’t want to offend her.

But the last thing I wanted was to get married in the old church with its red carpet, red pews, red walls, and weird-looking wooden cross hanging down the middle.

It reminded me of a vampire book.

And not a good one.

“This is where your parents were married, where I was married, this was where—” Goo-Poh stopped midsentence when the ancient minister walked into the sanctuary. He looked like he’d been around since the beginning of time, had a long white beard, and was missing every hair on his head. He had more wrinkles than a bulldog, and something about his inability to walk more than two steps without taking a break didn’t give me confidence that he would make it through a ceremony. “No,” Jessie breathed out next to me. “Hell no.”

“Careful, you’re in a church.”

“Am I? Because I think I saw a dungeon on the way in, and the pastor looks pale enough to feed off the souls of anyone who walks past the door.”

I snorted out a laugh, the minister was just . . . very . . . old.

Ancient.

“His heart may legitimately stop during the ceremony,” Jessie whispered. “How’s that for memories?”

I smacked him in the stomach. Goo-Poh made her way back over to us, her face a mask of worry as she pressed a hand to her mouth like she was holding back tears. I’d only ever seen her cry twice, both times my fault. “It is not available until two weeks from now, but we’ve already chosen the dates and the bridal bed has been delivered. I’ve ordered food.”

Yeah, that was news to me.

What food exactly did she order?

Did I even want to know?

“Goo-Poh.” Jessie stepped forward and wrapped a massive arm around her small frame. “I have an idea, feel free to shoot it down—”

“I probably will.”

“I know.” Patient, patient man. “But you only get married once . . .”

He cringed.

I inwardly groaned.

“Start over,” Goo-Poh ordered. “I don’t like how the conversation is going, choose your words carefully. Now, begin.”

My skin started to itch as Jessie cleared his throat and then locked eyes with me while speaking. “Isla deserves something elaborate, something as classy as her—why don’t we let her pick, and I’ll foot the entire bill.”

Goo-Poh never talked about money.

It was frowned upon.

Especially in a church.

So I expected her to either go on a hunt for holy water or spit on the ground, instead she looked up at him and slapped his cheek lightly. “You’re a good man.”

My mouth hung open, and I almost swallowed my tongue when she followed that with a little cheek pinch. “Thank you.”

“Well.” Goo-Poh pulled away from Jessie and crossed her arms to face me. “You need to pick a location in the next six hours to stay on schedule. Can you and your man do that, or do you need my help?”

Jessie must have seen the panic in my eyes. He quickly pulled me to his side and said, “We’ve got it. I know you still have a lot on your plate, so let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

“Find the location and I’ll stop off at the florist.” She pulled out an ancient-looking notebook, flipped through the highlighted pages, stopped, pulled out a green marker, and made a little check mark, then checked her wristwatch and wrote the time down. “Call me when you know.”

And then she was shuffling off like she was getting chased by the cops.

I sighed and looked up at Jessie.

He choked out a laugh, coughed, and tried to hide his smile.

“Not a word,” I said with clenched teeth.

He nodded. “I don’t think that’s possible . . .”

“Jessie, I’m warning you!”

He placed his hand on my lower back and ushered me out of the giant sanctuary. “So, you learned all your highlighting from Goo-Poh?”

I groaned. “You’re dead to me.”

“Hey, what are you like at scrapbooking stores, does your brain actually explode or do you just orgasm right next to the washable markers?”

I gave him a shove. “You can’t say orgasm in church!”

“Orgasm.” He grinned cheekily. “See? Totally fine, not getting struck down, not—”

A boom of thunder sounded.

We both jumped a foot.

“Shit.” He jerked me to his side. “It was supposed to rain today, this means nothing, but just in case I’m wrong and you’re right, let’s get out of here.”

We ran hand in hand onto the street just as the first raindrops fell. More followed, and by the time we reached his car we were both soaked through.