Liars Like Us (Morally Gray Book 1)

The moment I walk through the doors of ValUBooks, I understand why they’re so successful.

It’s not the delicate scent of vanilla and orange blossom piped through the AC system. It’s not the gleaming white travertine floors or the elegant, modern furnishings. It’s not even the huge coffee bar or the charming floral displays or the attractive, uniformed staff who all look as though they were recruited from a Ralph Lauren catalog.

It’s how everything comes together into one seamless, elegant whole so beautiful, it could make a bibliophile weep with joy.

And the books. Sweet home Alabama, the sheer number of books displayed boggles the mind. This place could give the Library of Congress a run for its money.

I stand starstruck in the entrance, gazing around with dazzled eyes, until an annoyed customer brushes past me, muttering under her breath about idiots blocking doorways.

Then I shake off my awe and start to hunt.

Walking briskly, I make my way around the perimeter of the store first, peering down aisles and peeking around display stands. I don’t catch sight of a tall man in black anywhere, so I keep looking, taking the glass elevator to the second floor to scan the travel, history, and children’s sections. Still nothing.

I have no idea what I’ll say to him if I do find him, but I’ll worry about it when the time comes.

Maybe he went out a back door?

Growing agitated, I hurry through aisle after aisle until I round a corner and slam into an immoveable object blocking my path. It’s young guy in a T-shirt and jeans, reading the book open in his hands.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!”

Breathless, I stumble back. Scowling, he turns to see who crashed into him so rudely. Our eyes meet, and we both freeze in shock.

It’s Ben, my ex.

He looks exactly the same as the last time I saw him. Mussed brown hair that needs a trim. Denim-blue eyes fringed by long lashes. Boyish good looks made even more charming by the dimples creasing both cheeks.

We stare at each other for one long, frozen moment, until he says gruffly, “Hey.”

Hey?

Fucking hey?

That’s all he’s got to say after disappearing without a word, breaking my heart, and leaving me with a permanent case of insecurity?

My pulse throbbing through my veins, I take a step back, inhale a shaky breath, and swallow around the rock in my throat.

“Hi, Ben.”

Awkward silence. Ah, how excruciating. I might as well have jumped into a pool of hungry sharks for how this feels. My heart might just bleed out all over this nice shiny travertine floor.

For a man who dumped me in such a brutal fashion, his expression is curiously soft. He looks me slowly up and down, his eyes both warm and wistful, as if he’s remembering something he once cherished that he lost.

But he didn’t lose me. He threw me away like trash.

He ghosted me, the heartless prick.

Heat scalds my cheeks and ears. My heart throbs under my breastbone. He’s lucky we’re in a bookstore and not a hardware store, because I’d grab a hammer from the nearest shelf and have a go at his balls.

I should walk away, but I can’t. I’m rooted to the spot as if I grew here.

He says softly, “How are you, Em?”

Fury washes over me in a hot, violent wave. I snap, “Oh no, you didn’t. You did not just ask how I am.”

Boy, that misty, sentimental look sure took a hike real quick. He frowns at me, shaking his head in annoyance.

“Wait. Just hold on a second before you start yelling at me.”

“No, I don’t think I will. I think I’ll start yelling nice and loud so everybody way over in the checkout line knows what a dick I think you are. In fact, I think I’ll scream it at the top of my—”

He grabs my arm and drags me around the corner into the aisle, then pushes me against a shelf of books and stares down into my face with a look of extreme concentration.

His voice hushed and urgent, he says, “I didn’t want to do it, okay? I never wanted to leave you.”

Caught off guard, I blink. “Are you saying I made you leave? I drove you away, is that it?”

Frustrated, he shakes his head. “No. That’s not it at all. Listen, I’ve wanted to call you a thousand times. I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped caring about you, Em.”

Confused, upset, and sick to my stomach, I cover my mouth with my hand.

He draws a breath. “I wanted to tell you everything, and I should have, I know I should’ve. But—”

His eyes widen. His face turns the color of ash.

He’s looking at my hand. The hand I’ve pressed over my mouth.

The hand with my wedding ring on it.

He takes an abrupt step back and swallows hard.

“Yes, I’m married. Did you think I’d wait around the rest of my life to see if you’d ever call me again?”

His silence is electric. I can tell he wants to say something, that he’s fighting with himself about it, but whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.

He slowly sets the book he’s holding on top of the others on the shelf beside my head, then turns his back and walks away.

I watch him go in disbelief.

Just before he turns the corner of the aisle, he stops. He hangs his head, seems to deliberate for a moment, then looks over his shoulder at me.

His eyes dark and his voice tight, he says, “It was good seeing you, Em. Take care.”

He leaves me standing alone with the knife he buried in my chest, wishing I’d never set foot in this stupid place to begin with.

I spend the rest of the afternoon locked in my office in a gnarly funk. I know I shouldn’t let it get to me, but seeing Ben so unexpectedly was a shock to my system. And not only did I get no answers that would help me understand what happened between us, I ended up with more questions than before.

Nothing about our encounter makes any kind of sense.

I go over and over it in my head, swinging back and forth between hurt and anger, until finally I exhaust my emotional reservoirs and come out on the other side feeling numb.

Deciding to take my mind off the situation by throwing myself into work, I call the landlord to ask him if he’d be willing to sell the building. When I get him on the line, he sounds like he’d rather be getting a colonoscopy than talking to me.

“Hello, Emery,” he says stiffly. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi, Bill. I wanted to float an idea past you to get your input.”

After an oddly long pause, he says, “What is it?”

“I was wondering if you’d ever consider selling the building.”

“Sell? To who?”

“To me.”

Another strange pause ensues. I know my rent check cleared this month, thanks to Callum’s trust fund, so I have no idea what his problem is.

He says carefully, “I…would have to think about that and get back to you.”

My laugh is dry. “I’m good for the cash. I know you probably don’t believe that, considering my payment history, but I’ve recently had what you could call a change in circumstances. Money is no longer a problem.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t talk right now.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, when do you think you might be able to tell me if you’ll sell? Because I’m going to invest in upgrades, but I don’t want to do it while I’m leasing—”

He cuts me off with, “I’ll get back to you as soon as I can,” and hangs up on me.

I sit at my desk, staring at the phone in my hand, wondering what the fuck is the matter with everyone.

Or is it all my imagination? Am I making mountains out of molehills? Am I creating drama where there isn’t any?

After all, I am the queen of overthinking.

Maybe Bill wasn’t acting strangely at all. Maybe he was just busy. And maybe the mystery man I saw outside ValUBooks was just some dude waiting for his wife shopping inside. Maybe I only wished Ben looked wistful and forlorn when he saw me, but what he actually looked like was embarrassed.

Maybe all that “I never wanted to leave you” nonsense was nothing more than excuses he made up on the spot to avoid a scene.

Which was a good call, considering I was about to do just that.

Aggravated with everyone and everything, including myself, I dig around in the bottom drawer of my desk until I find the whiskey bottle. I sit there taking swigs from it until Viv knocks on the door.

“Come in.”

She opens the door, sees me sitting there with a bottle in my hand, and sighs.

“Don’t judge me.”

“That’s what you always say when you know you’re doing something stupid.”

“Whiskey isn’t stupid. It’s a necessary food group. What’s that envelope you’re holding?”

She walks over to my desk and hands it to me. “A courier just delivered it.”

The return address shows it’s from the CDTFA.

Just what I needed today. Another disaster. The tax board probably doubled my fine.

But when I rip open the envelope and pull out the sheet of paper inside, I’m shocked to discover it’s a letter from David Montgomery saying there was, in fact, an error on their end.

The current balance due on my account is zero.

“Everything okay?”

Smiling, I look up at Viv. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but yes. This deserves a celebration.”

“If you take another sip from that bottle, I’ll hit you over the head.”

“God, you’re uptight for someone so young.”

She leans over the desk, snags the whiskey bottle, then turns and walks toward the door, saying over her shoulder, “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

I call out after her, “You’ll never know because I’ll never admit it.”

But as it turns out, she’s right. I leave work early, go to bed early, and wake up with a clear head and a brighter outlook than I had the day before. I decide it was good that I ran into Ben, because now at least I know he’s the same jerk he was when he left me all those months ago. No explanations, just another abrupt exit.

I’m lucky we never got engaged. He’d probably have stood me up at the altar.

I won’t waste any more time thinking about him.

I won’t waste any more time obsessing over whatever Callum’s hiding from me either. Let the moody billionaire have his secrets. I’ve got my own life to worry about.

Two nights later, I’m awakened from a dead sleep when Callum picks me up from the guest room bed and carries me down the hallway to the master bedroom.

“You’re back.” Groggy, I rest my head against his shoulder. My legs dangle over the crook of his arm.

He doesn’t respond. I feel the tension in his corded muscles, sense a certain heightened stress in his mood, and wonder if something’s happened.

“You okay?”

“No. But I will be as soon as I’m inside you.”

His voice is a low rumble of need that makes me shiver in anticipation. It also reminds me of something I neglected to tell him before.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“Remember when I was listing all the things I like about you?”

“No,” he lies, a smile in his tone.

“Whatever. Anyway, I forgot to mention your voice.”

“What about it?”

“It’s incredible. All velvet, smoke, and honey, like expensive whiskey. If this billionaire gig of yours ever dries up, you could make a living as a spicy romance audiobook narrator.”

“Did you get into the liquor cabinet tonight, darling?”

I smile at hearing my nickname and snuggle closer to his chest. “It’s nice when we’re not fighting. You should disappear for days on end more often.”

He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “My mouthy little lamb. Fuck, how I miss you when I’m gone.”

My pulse goes haywire. My body flushes with heat. A strange combination of hope and nervousness makes me hide my face in his shirt collar. “You do?”

“Yes.”

His firm answer gives me the courage to ask, “Even though you only married me to save your inheritance?”

He squeezes me closer against his body. He doesn’t answer, but the way his heart pounds against my cheek sets my soul on fire. I whisper, “I missed you too. This big old castle gets lonely without its bad-tempered beast.”

“Why don’t you call me when I’m away if you get lonely?”

“Because asking that stupid batphone to call Daddy gives me hives.”

Chuckling, he strides through the door of his bedroom and heads straight to the bed.

“Where did you get that thing, anyway? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I have a friend who gets all the latest techy gadgets.”

“Like James Bond.”

“He’d love it that you said that. Now be quiet and get ready to spread your legs for your master.”

I groan. “Oh no. Not that master stuff again.”

“Do you want me to make you come or not?”

When I grumble in annoyance, he says, “That’s what I thought,” and lays me down on the bed.

I stare up at him as he strips off his clothing. Moonlight spills through the windows, highlighting his hair and skin in a pale, ethereal glow. My chest grows tight with emotion as I watch him.

He’s beautiful, this mysterious stranger I married. A beautiful enigma who walks through the world as if he owns it, wearing all his secrets like a second skin.

I don’t know if I’ll ever really know him, if he’ll ever let me in to discover whatever he’s hiding behind those gorgeous eyes, but in this moment, it doesn’t matter.

All that matters is this addictive attraction we share, this strange passion that seemed to appear out of nowhere and burns hotter every time we’re together, searing me down to the marrow of my bones.

“I love the way you’re looking at me right now,” he murmurs, staring down at me.

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like you’re mine.” Even through the shadows, his dangerous smile shines. “Now get on your hands and knees like a good girl and show me how much you missed me with that pretty mouth.”

I sigh. “Callum?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“You don’t really think you’re the boss of me, do you?”

His laugh is low and sinister. “Tell you what. Let’s find out.”

He rolls me over onto my belly, holds me down by the back of my neck, and spanks me smartly on the ass until I’m breathless and squealing, his dark laughter the most heavenly music in my ears.