Because in a weird way, it made sense.
I turned around in his arms.
I kissed him for her.
I kept him for me.
Epilogue
Knox
“You did good.” Ian sat back against the giant-ass desk in his downtown Seattle office building. Wingman, Inc. was doing well. They didn’t just own floor space; they owned the entire damn building.
“Thanks.” I leaned forward and clasped my hands together. “I’m glad Slater worked out for the last half of the semester.”
Ian tilted his head. “And things between you guys… Are they better?”
“Is this therapy?”
“Cocky little shit. Why do you think I hired you?”
“Because I’m better looking?” I heard a laugh behind me as Lex, his business partner, walked in and took a long sip of his coffee.
“Oh, don’t mind me.” Lex held up his hands in innocence. “I was just enjoying my eavesdropping.” He sat on the park bench that Ian kept on one side of the office. Rumor had it that was where Wingman, Inc. had been born, but how was I supposed to know?
Ian cleared his throat. “You earned your position with us, but don’t get too comfortable. I can still fire your ass.”
“Noted.” I stood and held out my hand.
He gripped it and smiled. “VP of Marketing and Development. How’s it feel?”
“It feels like I should get a bonus.” I pulled him in for a hug.
“You’re lucky we’re related, cousin. And you’re lucky that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree…” He sighed. “Fifty.”
“Dollars?”
Lex choked on a laugh again.
“Thousand,” Ian clarified with a grin. “Signing bonus, and for putting up with my shit for four entire years. I have all the paperwork ready to go. You start Monday. Oh, and family dinner tonight.”
“Wow, it’s like you’re finally letting me in the inner circle.”
Lex stood and gave me a pat on the back. “Circle? Yes. Inner sanctum? Hell no.”
“Thanks.” I shook his hand too and grabbed the portfolio from Ian’s hands then turned around and walked out the door toward my future.
And the waiting girl talking with Ian’s and Lex’s wives outside.
Shawn’s hands were animated as she started telling a Blake story then Finn and Leo walked up with Slater and put their arms around all the girls.
“One…” I whispered. “Two—”
“Get your hands off my wife!” Ian shouted from the office.
Leo and Finn didn’t listen. Then again, they looked at Ian as more of a friend than anything. He was the one who’d seen our potential and given us jobs, and the story didn’t end there.
After all, they still had one more year left with Slater.
While I was mentally preparing for my future.
My future with Shawn.
And whatever else that meant as long as she was by my side.
“Hey…” I pulled her into my arms and kissed her on the mouth. “You ready to go celebrate?”
“Are you ready?” she countered with a smirk.
“What’s that? That smile you have right now?”
“We’re all going to Dave and Busters!” she announced proudly.
“YES!” Slater jumped into the air.
I hung my head. “Last time we almost got kicked out.”
“Because…” Shawn tugged my hands. “…you got too upset and threw a basketball at Finn’s face.”
“Finn was cheating,” I pointed out. I would have yelled, but this was my new workplace, and I was about to take on the role of boss to some of these people. “Besides, why are we going there for my celebration dinner?”
“Finn promised to play fair,” Shawn pointed out. “And I want a rematch. Remember what happened last time you won?”
I grinned so hard my face hurt. “So, if I win again…”
“Exactly.” She wrapped her arms around my neck then whispered against my ear, “Don’t you want to play?”
I swallowed my excitement and kissed her instead. “Oh, I’ll play.”
“Thought so.” She winked. “See? So, it really is the best place to celebrate.”
“Yeah.” I grabbed her hand as we waved goodbye and made our way to the elevator. “It really is.”
If you or someone you know is struggling with addiction there is help, you aren't alone.
SAMHSA’s National Helpline: https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline
Wingmen Inc
Can’t get enough of the WINGMEN?
See where it all started!
The Matchmaker’s Playbook
Wingman rule number one: don’t fall for a client.
After a career-ending accident, former NFL recruit Ian Hunter is back on campus—and he’s ready to get his new game on. As one of the masterminds behind Wingmen, Inc., a successful and secretive word-of-mouth dating service, he’s putting his extensive skills with women to work for the lovelorn. But when Blake Olson requests the services of Wingmen, Inc., Ian may have landed his most hopeless client yet.
From her frumpy athletic gear to her unfortunate choice of footwear, Blake is going to need a miracle if she wants to land her crush. At least with a professional matchmaker by her side she has a fighting chance. Ian knows that his advice and a makeover can turn Blake into another successful match. But as Blake begins the transformation from hot mess to smokin’ hot, Ian realizes he’s in danger of breaking his cardinal rule…
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The Matchmaker’s Replacement
Wingman rule number two: never reveal how much you want them.
Lex hates Gabi. Gabi hates Lex. But, hey, at least the hate is mutual, right? All Lex has to do is survive the next few weeks training Gabi in all the ways of Wingmen Inc. and then he can be done with her. But now that they have to work together, the sexual tension and fighting is off the charts. He isn’t sure if he wants to strangle her or throw her against the nearest sturdy table and have his way with her.
But Gabi has a secret, something she’s keeping from not just her best friend but her nemesis too. Lines are blurred as Lex becomes less the villain she’s always painted him to be…and starts turning into something more. Gabi has always hated the way she’s been just a little bit attracted to him—no computer-science major should have that nice of a body or look that good in glasses—but “Lex Luthor” is an evil womanizer. He’s dangerous. Gabi should stay far, far away.
Then again, she’s always wanted a little danger.
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Dirty Exes
Get ready for Dirty Exes!
Featuring Ian’s sister — meet Ian in Wingmen Inc!
About the Book
They’re serving up some red-hot revenge. A sizzling series from #1 New York Times bestselling author Rachel Van Dyken.
Blaire has never quite gotten over Jessie Beckett, the ex–NFL star whose kisses were hot enough to ignite the entire Eastern Seaboard. When he chose work over her, Blaire was left brokenhearted. Why else would she have married a skeezy two-timer, just to divorce him less than a year later?
Now Blaire is getting even by becoming one half of Dirty Exes, a PI firm fully committed to humiliating cheating jerks. If only the new jerk she’s been hired to uncover wasn’t Jessie Beckett himself.
Exposing Jessie isn’t going to be easy, especially when she still daydreams about his sexy smile. Further complicating matters is Colin, Jessie’s best friend. He’s gorgeous, a little bit cunning, and willing to help Blaire get the inside scoop on Jessie—for a price.
Now caught between two men—one totally right and the other totally wrong—Blaire will need to decide just how much she’s willing to risk…and whom sh
e’s willing to risk it for.
Releasing June 5!
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Excerpt
“Bingo,” I whispered and quickly plugged in my fiber-optic camera. God bless iPhones and all the little gadgets that come with them. As quietly as possible, I climbed the ladder and shoved the camera up through the gritty metal hole.
“Come to mama,” I whispered as my adrenaline spiked.
Isla said she’d lure him out of the restaurant with the promise of a quickie, and the cheating idiot—the one who really needed to learn how to shop in his own garage, if you get my meaning—was clearly all over it. What was it with men who thought that money made up for their overactive sweat glands and jowls the size of my ass?
“God, you’re a beautiful woman,” lying, cheating bastard crooned in a gravelly voice that reminded me of those antismoking commercials. My face twisted with disgust while I recorded. The angle was perfect, and the street lights may as well have been spotlights on his eager face.
“Awww.” My best friend and business partner shrugged a shoulder and forced a laugh. She tugged down the front of her dress, and the cheater took one look at her breasts and made a choking noise. Apparently he had an overactive salivary gland too. “You’re such a nice guy. How are you not married?”
“Just haven’t found the right woman, I suppose.” He toyed with the black material near her right nipple, flicking it with his swollen and heavily ringed pointer finger. I kept myself from throwing up.
“Is that so?” She leaned in. “How is that even possible?”
“No idea.” He leaned in.
Oh, honey, I appreciate the dedication but he probably tastes like an ashtray. Don’t do it, don’t do it. I briefly contemplated closing my eyes so I wouldn’t have to witness any forthcoming kiss. Only a best friend would notice the slight grimace Isla made before backing up and sliding a manila envelope out of her bag and shoving it into his chest.
“What’s this?” He chuckled at the envelope while she made a gagging noise and wiped her mouth. The guy hadn’t even kissed her, yet her body was in distress, poor thing.
“You got it?” She looked down at the sewer cover.
I moved the fiber-optic cable up and down in an affirmative motion.
She smirked at him. “You’ve just been served. You’re also on camera, so say hi to your wife and the rest of the Dirty Exes, our live Facebook group. And while you’re at it, you may as well say goodbye to half of everything you own according to the prenup you signed three years ago. But you know what? Half doesn’t seem nearly enough to put up with your shit.”
I cackled.
His phone buzzed.
“Better answer that, I’m pretty sure that’s your soon-to-be-ex-wife just making sure you’re aware that she saw the live video.” She smiled triumphantly. “Oh, and nice doing business with you.”
With great effort, I removed the sewer lid then heaved myself up the rest of the way. The cover felt like it weighed twenty-five pounds, and I nearly smashed my fingers in the name of catching another cheater. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
“You smell.” Isla scrunched up her nose when she waltzed over to me. “But you’re dedicated, I like it.”
“It was the only way to get close enough,” I grumbled and made an effort to dust off my damp clothes even though I knew it was in vain. When she’d texted she’d be meeting the target, I’d been headed back to my apartment, so I was ill prepared for sewer sightseeing even though I knew it was a possibility, considering the location. Can one ever be completely prepared to do something like that? The answer is no. Just. No.
“You bitches!” The Cheater ran toward both of us—lips curled in disgust, his eyes beady, angry little lasers, hand raised—like he was seconds away from attacking us with his cell phone.
Instinctively, I reared back and let my fist fly. Knuckles connected with flesh, and he whimpered and went down like the loser he was.
“Blaire!” Isla groaned. “You can’t just punch our clients’ husbands.”
“I slipped,” I lied. “Besides, it was self-defense! He’s twice my size and he made a threat!”
Isla just shook her head at me.
“He charged us! With his phone! That’s not normal behavior, plus it looked like he intended to use it as a weapon.”
I may have anger issues.
“Who the hell are you people?” Cheater was on the ground, covering his face with his hands. Oh hell, was he crying?
I stepped over his sad, pathetic body and grinned. “The Exes.”
Isla looped her arm through mine and then dropped our black-and-white calling card on the ground. It was our final punch to the gut. Not only did it serve to warn our targets that we were watching . . . always watching, future clients who randomly found our cards called us based on curiosity alone. We grew our social media presence by being selective and only taking high-profile clients. Business was booming.
“Have a good night.” I waved and shoved my phone back in my pocket.
Isla sucked in a breath. “So, pizza?”
“Fries,” I countered.
“Pizza.” She narrowed her eyes like she was thinking.
“Wine,” we said in unison.
“Oh, lookee here.” She pulled a bottle out of her giant Mary Poppins purse and waved it in front of my face like it was totally legal to drink while walking down the street.
“You have glasses in there too?” I laughed, poking my head in her giant bag.
She was already pulling them out.
Of course.
Always prepared, Isla was.
“And a screw top.” I pointed. “Best date of my life.”
“Isn’t it though?”
“She’ll get more than half.” I nodded as Isla poured my red Solo cup to the rim. “You know you didn’t have to seduce him, he was well on his way to dropping trousers near the dumpster.”
“Our clients expect dedication. Yours was the sewer, mine was his mouth and body.” She scrunched up her nose. “Same thing, different locations.”
I shuddered. “So true.”
Isla stopped walking and lifted her cup in the air. “To another successful divorce.”
I clinked my cup with hers. “Men. Women. People of LA, you’ve been warned: the Exes are here, so keep it in your pants—”
“Or panties!” Isla giggled.
I tilted my head and continued, “Or get it chopped off.” I scrunched up my nose. “Too far?”
She hesitated and then tilted her head. “I was thinking more along the lines of running all male penises over with a car, but most are so small I was having trouble figuring out the specifics.”
I doubled over in laughter. “Yeah, I’ll drink to that. And don’t worry, I’m sure the longer we do this the more creative your imagination will get.”
A couple passed us by. As I watched them kiss, I ignored the pang in my heart.
Just like I ignored the longing that came with it.
Stupid heart.
“You’re happy, right?” Isla asked. She was my other half. If the other half oozed sexuality and confidence. Most days I was lucky I even put on mascara and remembered to wash my hair. I was so focused on retribution, on not focusing on the past, that I was barely staying sane. I wanted to be that woman, the one who told the world where to stick it—I just didn’t know how to do it without acknowledging all the parts of myself that were still broken, still hurting. Because that meant I had to actually admit it happened, it was real, and I was alone.
An impasse, that’s where I was at.
“Of course!” I said loudly, realizing she was waiting for my response, and like an idiot I was peering into my wine cup like it was a magic 8 ball that would give me all life’s secrets if I just stared hard enough. Her eyebrow arched, and I could tell she wasn’t convinced. I took a deep breath, forced a soft smile, and said it again. “I’m really, really happy.”
I just had to repeat it.
And then add
in two reallys.
She gave me a confident nod and wrapped her arm around me. “Good.”
And that was it.
Except it wasn’t.
Because a part of me was still thinking about that couple, about the look in her eyes when he kissed her, and about the way it felt to be kissed.
A really good kiss.
One that stunned you into silence. One that stole your breath and made you swear that if you died in that minute, it would be okay. A kiss that made you believe that maybe, just maybe, the world wasn’t all bad.
That maybe love existed.
It was that kind of kiss.
And I realized in that moment, with a jarring sense of insecurity, that I’d only ever been kissed like that once in my entire life.
And it wasn’t my ex-husband who had done it.
Releasing June 5!
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Acknowledgements
I say this every time. Because it's true every time, maybe as I get older I'm realizing it more and more, just what an amazing Gift from God to be able to do what you love day in and day out. To be able to interact with people all over the world. To have this opportunity to create worlds and characters is something that I'm so thankful for. I thank God every day and I'm so thankful to the readers, bloggers, humans in the world that read my books and support me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I always miss people when I say thank you. Mainly because it takes a HUGE community of bloggers, publicists, agents, publishers, marketers, etc to get a book born and shipped out into the world.
Thank you to Nina, Jill, Becca, Ang, and Jena. The amazing team behind all the things that go on! I would be lost without you guys, quite literally, we all know that’s what happens every time I go to New York, someone has to babysit because streets confuse me and when you can't see the sky… well HOW DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOU ARE? And I only got lost that one time on that fifty-two block walk to the 9-11 museum. Worth it.