“Thank God you said it,” she’d replied and gone to grab a bottle of champagne from her fridge. “Let’s drink to a long and happy friendship.”
Attending the wedding as his date was a kindness on her part, and here he was, ignoring her in favor of a woman who’d sashayed away without a backward look.
“Sorry. Juliet’s always been able to get under my skin.” How many times had she made a dig at him that caused him to retaliate in just as juvenile a manner? Anytime the two of them got within five feet of each other, the missiles began to fly.
Rachel cocked an eyebrow. “Is that right? Funny, when one of the problems with us was that I couldn’t rile you up. Ever.”
“That’s because you’re a sane, sensible woman who doesn’t try to pick fights.” Though their harmony didn’t extend to dancing—moving with her around the dance floor took a little work because she was shorter by half a foot. And seriously, that was no excuse when Gabe and Charlotte were pulling off pure grace despite their height difference.
Juliet had probably hexed him into being a klutz. Because irritatingly, it had been effortless to dance with her—she fit his body perfectly. He’d been viscerally aware of the plump fullness of her breasts pushing against his chest, the generous swell of her hip just inches away from his palm, the way her back dipped so beautifully.
It made a man think about kissing the curve of her spine.
As for her cleavage... Jesus! Lord save him. He’d had to keep his eyes rigidly over her head or he’d have been staring at her breasts like a lech. Maybe his brothers were right. He needed to get laid.
Except his body only wanted one woman.
The one who was a burr under his skin, an aggravation that wouldn’t stop.
Rachel laughed again, all sweetness and no sarcasm. It was nice. He should react to nice. Instead, he reacted to dagger words and patently insincere smiles designed to provoke.
“I dunno, Jake.” Rachel’s gaze was acute, that of an investigative reporter at the top of her game. “Maybe you need a woman who unsettles you. Life would never be boring.”
He shook his head. Firmly. Very. “Trust me, Juliet doesn’t ‘unsettle.’ She overturns, disrupts, capsizes.” A tornado had nothing on Juliet. “The only time Calypso got into trouble at school, it was because she was smoking in the bathroom with Juliet.”
Scowling, he tried to locate the object of his thoughts in the crowd, finally spotted her dancing with one of Gabe’s single rugby friends. “She should come with a Bad Influence warning above her head. In red neon.” And why was she smiling at that hatchet-faced bruiser with genuine sweetness when all Jake got was snark and fury?
Rachel chuckled. “Oh my God, you sound so shocked and staid. I’m going to start calling you Grandpa Jake if you keep that up.”
Great, now Rachel was comparing him to an octogenarian too. Clearly Juliet’s influence was catching, even from a distance.
“Funny thing is,” Rachel said with a small frown, “the face of your sexy nemesis is so familiar. I could swear I’ve seen her before.”
Jake didn’t jog Rachel’s memory. Some things were off-limits even when he and Juliet were annoying each other. But he should’ve known that Rachel’s brain was too much of a steel trap for the information to elude her for long.
“Oh my God.” A dangerous brilliance on her face. “She was married to Reid Mescall.”
“Rach, you won’t—”
“Gossip isn’t my beat,” she said at once. “Also, I’d never use a private family affair to pass on a tip to another reporter.”
Well aware of her airtight ethical boundaries, Jake exhaled quietly—and tried not to look in Juliet’s direction. Did she have any idea how many wives her dance partner had left in his dust? Four at last count was what Jake had heard. The man obviously had serious moves, because even a mother couldn’t love that face, which had taken more than one beating.
Maybe Juliet went for rough rather than clean-cut.
Rachel’s voice brought his attention back to the woman in his arms. “I knew Reid was an idiot the first time I interviewed him, back when I covered sports, but having seen his ex in the flesh and having seen the friends she keeps—says a lot about a person, that—I can now state categorically that Reid Mescall is a major idiot. Imagine not doing everything you could to hold on to a knockout like her.”
Jake had zero disagreement with Rachel’s conclusion. Juliet’s ex-husband was a prize idiot. But not for the reasons Rachel had listed. No, Reid was an idiot for a whole other reason—the same reason Jake had never tried to get between Calypso and Juliet—Juliet’s capacity for fierce loyalty.
That time when Calypso got caught smoking with Juliet, Juliet had tried to take all the blame. In the end, she’d taken enough of it that the school hadn’t put anything on Calypso’s record.
Calypso had fought Juliet over that in front of Jake, but Juliet had been adamant. “You’re going places, Cals. Another demerit won’t much change my record, but it’ll mess up yours. I’m doing this—you back me up.”
“Jules—”
“You back me up, Callie. And when you’re a rich fancy-pants lawyer, come bail me out when I get in trouble.”
Any man who not only gave up that kind of loyalty but rewarded it with a smear campaign? Well beyond an idiot and straight into asshole territory, Jake thought as the song came to an end and another single male asked Rachel for a dance. As an amenable Rachel moved off in the guy’s arms, Jake checked on Esme—who was having a grand old time running wild with the other children—then went hunting Jules.
He was starting to think she’d ditched the reception when he finally saw her seated in a hidden alcove with a giant slice of wedding cake on a saucer. She cut into it with a fork as he watched, slipped the tines into her mouth. Her lashes drifted shut, her lips pursed; he could almost hear her moan of pleasure.
His cock twitched.
No, no, no. He couldn’t twitch for Juliet.
Yet he haphazardly grabbed a slice of cake for himself before going over to join her in the alcove.
She glared at him. “This is my spot. Go. Away.”
“I don’t see your name on it,” he said and took a seat. The alcove wasn’t that big, and his shoulder brushed hers, his hip pressing into a lush feminine curve. He was crowding her on purpose. Because the thing was… he wanted to fight with Juliet.
Dangerous as it was, he hadn’t felt this alive in a long, long time.
Her eyes flashed. Then she elbowed him under the guise of getting comfortable.
“Oof.” He rubbed his ribs.
“Oh, did that hurt?” She pointed her fork in his direction. “So, so sorry.”
Jake was grinning when his father appeared nearby. “Son,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt, but Uncle Tama wants to get home and his car isn’t starting.”
“I’ll have a look.” Jake took the keys his father held out… before he turned to Juliet and said, “It’s dark out. Mind coming and holding the torch for me?”
Joseph Esera broke in. “Oh, I can do that.”
“No, Mr. Esera.” Juliet’s smile was warm and generous. “It’s your son’s wedding. Stay, enjoy. I’m sure it won’t take Jake long to fix things.” She kept up that smile as Joseph patted her on the shoulder and told her she was a good girl before he walked away to tug Alison into a dance.