How to Marry Your Frenemy (How To Rom Com Series Book 1) Read online

“What did you think I was looking at?” I asked.

  Liam shook his head. “Where’s Cole? Or Lincoln? They’ll listen.”

  “Cole is still at his office,” I said. “He’s the boss man, remember? He had to be a tough guy and go out on his own. And Lincoln is balls deep in his brother’s wedding. Don’t even get me started there. I’ve never seen a guy so involved in a wedding where he isn’t the one getting married.”

  “Remind me not to ask you to be my best man,” Liam said.

  I slammed my right hand to his left shoulder and squeezed.

  He lowered his shoulder and groaned in pain.

  He had a bad shoulder from a car accident when we were seventeen. It cost him his chance at a possible baseball career. And it cost me my first car and some money for the fines for being stupid, thinking I could speed up around a curve that was literally called Accident Bend.

  “That fucking hurt,” Liam said as he rubbed his shoulder.

  “Look at me,” I said. “I’ll be your best man. I’ll stand up there and joke about not having the rings when I’ve had them all along. I’ll stand up and give a toast and tell everyone the story of how you bought pills to make your dick bigger and they turned out to be nothing but vitamins.”

  “Fuck, man, don’t you dare…”

  I laughed. “But first, you have to find someone to marry.”

  “Jackson. I’m engaged.”

  I waved my right hand. “The first one doesn’t count.”

  “Just because you-”

  “Hey,” I said. “You’re my best friend. There are few things I’ve had to cope with over the years with you. Some decisions that have been questionable. But this one…”

  “Don’t say one bad thing about Miranda,” Liam said. “You’ve never given her a chance.”

  “I can read people, Liam,” I said.

  “No. You judge. That’s not fair.”

  “I didn’t tell you not to marry her,” I said. “I didn’t tell you not to throw that ring on her finger. That’s your call.”

  “So, what, you’re not going to be at the wedding?”

  “You’ve been engaged longer than you’ve had hair on your balls, brother,” I said.

  “Fuck you, I have not,” Liam said. “You live in fear, Jackson. Everything you do is fear based. And you know it.”

  “So we came out for drinks to do this?” I asked. “Bickering like an old couple?”

  Liam looked back at the beauty that was still eye fucking me.

  “I know why you came,” he said. “I should have known.”

  “I had a long day today,” I said. “Big meeting soon. Getting things in order.”

  “Getting things in order by drinking and picking up a woman?” Liam asked.

  “It helps to… cleanse the palate.”

  “I don’t think you know what that means,” Liam said.

  “Oh well,” I said. I grabbed his shoulder again. “Hey, listen. Who am I to give relationship advice, right? Long term for me is sticking around until nine the next morning. I’m sorry I didn’t hear what you were bitching about. I’m sure it had something to do with Miranda. You know my take on things. I love you like a brother. But I’ll never keep my mouth shut.”

  “Do you ever think maybe that’s why you’re single? Why you never… you know… the way things worked out?”

  I could have punched Liam in the mouth.

  He would have hit me back.

  We would have been tossed out of the bar.

  Miranda would get pissed at him and hate me even more.

  So I let the comment slide.

  “You can pay for my drinks,” I said. “I have business to tend to.”

  Liam shook his head as I walked away from the bar.

  I approached the blonde beauty with the birthmark and she turned to look at me.

  “Do you have a birthmark I need to kiss?” I asked without hesitation.

  “What? That’s kind of personal, isn’t it?”

  I inched closer to the bar and smiled at her.

  “Then let’s get personal, sweetie.”

  Chapter Two

  Callie

  The salad on my desk looked like a patch of grass that needed to be cut. All I knew about salads was that iceberg lettuce tasted better than romaine but maybe wasn’t as healthy. Oh, and that spinach had a weird taste. This salad had other leaves in it that I swore were things you were told not to eat if you were outside. Greens that tasted bitter and had sharp edges and hooks. A freaking rabbit would look at this salad and wiggle its nose, looking for a burger.

  And fries.

  With a creamy chocolate milkshake.

  I shut my eyes and put my head back and let out a long groan.

  That’s right… take me into your mouth, you whore…

  Damn, I needed a chocolate milkshake stat.

  “Um, Callie?”

  I whipped my head around and Misha stood at the doorway to my office.

  “Misha,” I said. “What are you still doing here?”

  “I’m not leaving without you,” she said. “You’ll stay all night. And that’s crap.”

  “It’s called working for what you want.”

  “Jackson doesn’t have to do that.”

  “Forget him,” I said. “I have to work harder than him.”

  “Because you’re a woman.”

  “That, and because his uncle owns the company.” I pointed to Misha. “But don’t get me wrong, Misha. I know what I’m up against. I don’t back down from a challenge. Everyone around here always said I got this job as a favor. Right? Because Jackson and I were kind of maybe friends. No. It wasn’t that at all. I walked into Vince’s office and handed him a multi-million dollar deal during my interview. He told me if I made it happen, I’d have a job. This was all made for me, by me. Got that?”

  I had closed right in on Misha.

  She was super skinny, short, with hair that was black and always down. She had a birdlike face. It was tiny and cute. And she wore big glasses, but not in that ironic way that so many people did nowadays.

  It was just her face, glasses, and her style.

  She swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay.”

  I looked around and curled my lip.

  The offices were all made of glass.

  There was no privacy, except for Vince’s office.

  That’s how he designed the office. He thrived off competition. And that didn’t bother me one bit. I liked that everyone could stare at my ass as I walked by. They could certainly kiss it too when I got the promotion that hung so close in the distance.

  I’d be above Jackson - finally.

  It wouldn’t matter that his uncle owned the investment company.

  Jackson would have to answer to me.

  And after all the years of playing nice, being friendly to his face… it would be done. Over with.

  If he thought for one second I didn’t know what he said behind my back and what he tried to do to my career, he was out of his mind.

  “Callie?” Misha whispered.

  “What?” I snapped at her.

  She gasped and stepped back.

  Christ…

  I realized how I must have looked at that moment.

  Standing over Misha thanks to my blood red heels. I felt like my chest was puffed out, my hands balled up into fists. Like I was going to fight Misha.

  I sighed and deflated back down to size.

  I stepped out of my heels and my feet gave a collective thank fucking god.

  You know, screw men.

  They got to wear comfortable shoes. They had a bit of leisure to their attire.

  Not me.

  It had to be a different kind of clothing each day. I had to look one hundred percent ready for war.

  Yet there were days when Jackson stumbled in with his tie undone, shirt half unbuttoned, his hair messy. A complete slob.

  And you know what he did?

  He ran his hand through his hair and - voila - he looked pe
rfect.

  I hated men.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to Misha. “I just get-”

  “Hungry,” she said. “Er, hangry.”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “I’ve got you covered,” Misha said.

  She hurried away and came back with a brown paper bag with grease stains on it.

  “You didn’t,” I said.

  “Oh, I did,” Misha said.

  “You went all the way down to Willie’s?”

  “Yup,” she said. “Cheeseburger. Fries. Milkshake.”

  “I could kiss you right now, Misha,” I said.

  I went to my desk and sat down.

  “I knew you’d need this,” she said. “You’re killing yourself. This deal is going to work. Not even Jackson can mess it up.”

  “You say that…,” I said.

  I bit into the cheeseburger and I shut my eyes and groaned.

  I washed it down with a gulp of the milkshake.

  I moaned.

  Three seconds later I felt my ass already starting to get bigger.

  “Are you okay over there?” Misha asked.

  I opened my eyes. I swallowed. “Don’t judge me. It’s been a long time.”

  “Since you’ve had Willie’s?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “And… an actual willy…”

  Misha snorted. “Um, if you’re calling guys dicks willy’s then you’re in big trouble.”

  “At this point I feel like putting an open for business sign between my legs,” I said.

  “Please, don’t do that,” Misha said.

  “I wouldn’t. I’ve just been working a lot. I’ll get what I need soon enough. Trust me. I’m going to nail the deal, throw it in Jackson’s face, put Vince on the spot for the promotion… and then I’m going out and finding a guy. And you know what? I’m going to buy him a drink. Grab his tie. And tell him that he’s my bitch for the night.”

  I bit into the cheeseburger with force.

  The second bite was better than the first.

  I attacked the meal with purpose.

  And believe me, I felt guilty for it.

  Which made me mad at myself.

  I wiped my mouth when I was done and sat back in my chair.

  “That’s not going to feel good later,” I said.

  “Stop,” Misha said. “You only care about your weight right now because Jackson put his hands up and walked by you sideways last week.”

  “No,” I said. “I’ve been… I don’t know. I’m not young anymore.”

  “Oh, stop it,” Misha said.

  “You know, I can fire you.”

  “Do it,” Misha teased.

  I grabbed a folder from my desk and stood up. “Instead of firing you, you’re going to listen to what I have for the meeting.”

  “Again?”

  “Again,” I said. “I’m making this work. This is my baby.”

  “Okay, let’s hear it then,” Misha said.

  “Also, before I forget, make sure you get the apartment thing figured out,” I said. “If I have to live with Sheila and her only wear a thong Pilates gimmick for another month, I’m going to gouge my own eyes out.”

  “I’m taking care of it,” Misha said.

  I grabbed the milkshake and sucked on the straw so it made that annoying gurgling sound.

  Then I smacked my lips together.

  Jackson was not going to get credit for this one.

  He wasn’t going to get in my way of this promotion either.

  He was nothing more than a frenemy and I couldn’t wait to see him beg as he groveled before me for his job.

  Chapter Three

  Jackson

  “Angela… I’m going to call you angel,” I said as I leaned against the bar.

  “Does that mean I can call you devil?” she teased as she continued to swirl her hair around her finger.

  I gently touched her wrist and pulled her hand away from her hair.

  I then tucked her hair behind her ear and took notice of her earrings.

  “Two piercings, huh?” I asked.

  “That a problem?”

  “No. I’m just following the story.”

  “What story?”

  “You’re a tough businesswoman,” I said. “Yet you let these subtle hints of who you once were show through. Playing with your hair, that’s your comfort. You’re nervous around me. You’re not sure if I’m some asshole looking for a quickie in the bathroom or if we’re going to be telling our kids about how we met.”

  “Oh yeah?” Angela asked.

  “Am I wrong?”

  “I’m not answering that.”

  She smiled.

  I leaned toward her. “The bathrooms here are really nice.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she purred.

  I gritted my teeth.

  I loved the chase. The cat and mouse. The lion and the prey.

  Dancing in circles for hours knowing what the payoff would be and what it would feel like.

  There was no room for error or doubt.

  I wouldn’t mess this up and there was no way Angela wasn’t going to be joining me for a little bedtime fun.

  I’d gladly call for a ride to her place and leave her a sleepy mess of sex and be gone by morning.

  Or maybe I’d stay and have coffee with her.

  She was definitely the type to have coffee with the next morning.

  “Keep going, Jackson,” she said.

  “Now that’s what I like to hear,” I said. “Say that again.”

  “Stop it,” Angela said with a laugh.

  She playfully slapped my arm.

  I inched closer to her.

  “The earrings,” I said. “You won’t take that second piercing out. It means too much. Sure, it’s a reminder of that time at the beach when you got that second piercing done. Probably just around sunset. What, maybe, sixteen?” I snapped my fingers. “No. Fifteen. Right before all that pretty innocence was taken. And you were with your cousin. You both got your ears pierced like that. You both said no matter what you would never take them out. Right?”

  Angela looked ready to cry. “You’re…”

  “Spot on?” I asked. “I have a gift.”

  “It’s not perfect,” she said. She fanned herself. “But wow…”

  “Well, then tell me the story, sweetie. This isn’t all about wild sex. That comes later. Let me into your soul first.”

  Cheap? Yup.

  Angela looked at me. Her eyes were a dark blue color. “It was at the beach. Well, on the boardwalk. East coast though. With my best friend. Sharon. We weren’t supposed to get them done. Her aunt took us. My parents were really mad about it.”

  “See?” I asked. “I was close. And now you and Sharon don’t talk. Like for ages. Right?”

  “Try death,” Angela whispered.

  “Oh, fuck. I’m sorry about that, sweetie.” I touched her hand. “Losing someone is so hard. My father died when I was sixteen.”

  “Jackson, that’s terrible,” Angela said.

  I inched even closer to her. “Look at us, Angela. This is just… it feels so right, doesn’t it? It’s easy to talk to you.”

  “Maybe it’s the drinks,” she said.

  That was the first hint at her putting up a wall.

  Which was fine with me.

  I didn’t give up easily.

  I brought my tool belt. A hammer and chisel to get through the wall.

  If it was too thick, I’ll get a ladder and climb it.

  Still won’t work?

  I’ll get my airplane and fly it over the wall and jump out of the plane.

  I was too stubborn to just let a playmate go to waste.

  “Maybe it is the drinks,” I said. “Or maybe it’s the fear.”

  “Fear?”

  “You’re afraid of me, sweetie. You like the way I make you feel. You want to know how someone you just met can make you feel the way you do. You’re tempted to join me in that bathroom over there. We both kno
w it. And you want to know what I feel like… everywhere…”

  I brushed my lips to her cheek.

  She let out a sigh and then giggled.

  A woman giggling was like seeing your apartment after traveling for a week. You knew you were home and you knew nothing could bother you now.

  So kick back, relax, and just be yourself…

  I touched her hair again and kissed her cheek.

  “You tell me when to stop, Angela,” I whispered.

  The tip of my nose moved across her cheek to her ear.

  I nuzzled her ear and she giggled again.

  I wasn’t done yet.

  I moved down to her neck and she carefully turned her head. Being a little shy and wanting some control in this situation. It was adorable.

  My tongue grazed her skin and I pulled away.

  “I can’t,” I said to her.

  “What?” she asked.

  She looked up at me with surprise.

  “You just talked about someone you lost,” I said. “So did I. This is grief now, sweetie. I fucked this up. If we fuck each other, it’s not going to be the right way.”

  Angela was even more surprised. “Wow. You’re…”

  She stood up and grabbed my shirt.

  I put my hand to hers. “Angela…”

  “We’re at a bar after a long day, Jackson,” she said. “We both know what we came here for. And if Sharon were still alive and here, she’d tell me I have two choices. Either I fuck you in the bathroom, or she does…”

  Do you have a picture of her? If she’s hotter than you…

  I blinked fast.

  Even for me that last thought was a little too far off the edge.

  Angela pressed her body against mine.

  Our eyes burned like a wildfire.

  My right hand slowly touched her hip. Then around to her ass. Pulling her tighter against me.

  Fuck, she was ready to dry hump me right against the bar with a bunch of people around us.

  She was going to be a delight. She hadn’t been fucked in a long time. She was going to come so many times and so hard she’d need to sleep for a week to let her body recuperate.

  I lowered my mouth down to hers.

  Just before my lips touched hers, a hand appeared between our mouths.

  “I’m just here to get a drink,” a voice said.

  I turned my head.