by Reese Ryan
Wes regretted his word choice nearly the moment he’d uttered it.
This would be a business trip. Plain and simple. He wouldn’t spend the next six months fighting her on every decision they had to make about the tournament. Which celebs to invite. The selection of celebrity chefs. Which bands to hire. Themes. The schedule.
Bree knew volleyball tournaments. She’d competed in plenty of them, competitive and exhibition. But if he could give her a better sense of the venue and what he and Liam were trying to accomplish, she might come around and stop fighting him.
Wes tilted his head, taking her in. This might be the worst idea he ever had. Bree was smart and beautiful. Yet, she was a fierce competitor. Everything about this woman made him want her.
He gripped the sides of the hot tub, determined not to move, when what he really wanted was to take her in his arms and kiss her again. Then take her to his bed.
The physical attraction was enough to battle, but what worried him most was his growing need to be in her company. He felt at ease with Brianna. Her company was a welcome antidote to the anxiety he felt over his mother’s illness.
If they could get past the awkwardness of what had happened in London, maybe they could be friends.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun.”
She raised her gaze to his. “And we’ll have separate rooms?”
“Of course. I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise.”
“Fine.” Bree stepped out of the hot tub and dried herself off. She wrapped a towel around her body and secured it. “Email me the itinerary.”
She didn’t wait for his response, so he didn’t offer one. He only hoped he wasn’t making another huge mistake that would land both of them in hot water.
Chapter 7
“You agreed to do what?” Bex’s voice blared through the speaker on Bree’s cell phone, which was propped on the bathroom sink as she detangled her shoulder-length, curly hair. It was a task that took far longer than she cared to admit. “Have you lost your freaking mind? You’ve got a thing for this guy. Or are we still pretending that you’re over him?”
“Hey, you’re the one who said do whatever it takes to make this work. That’s what I’m doing. Or have you forgotten the plan?” Bree responded, her heart racing. Not because she was arguing with her best friend. Because Bex was right, and they both knew it.
“I know what I said, but I also know you. The girl who wears her heart on her sleeve, and who is really attracted to this guy.” Bex sighed. “I don’t get this guy. First, he tells you he doesn’t believe in anything serious. Next, he’s inviting you to spend a week with him exploring North Carolina. What the hell? Is this some kind of sick mind game?”
“Doesn’t seem like his style. Besides, now that I’ve had time to think about it, he’s right. I need a better understanding of the locale. Maybe I’ve been approaching this the wrong way.”
“See, that right there is what I’m talking about. He’s got you doubting yourself. I thought the plan was to see him as a competitor. The enemy.” Bex’s Yorkshire terrier, Sheba, barked frantically in the background. Her friend was likely pacing the floor and gesturing wildly, working the poor thing up.
“And don’t we always say we need to know our enemy in order to defeat him?”
“If you really mean it, it’s a good plan,” Bex conceded. “But it feels like you’re trying to convince yourself. Are you sure this isn’t just about spending some alone time with Wesley Adams?”
Bree stared at herself in the mirror for a moment before dropping her gaze to the phone. “I’m sure.”
“Then good luck, but you call me the second you feel yourself falling for this guy. I’ll knock some sense back into you, even if I have to fly out there.” The smile was back in her friend’s voice.
They both laughed. “Promise.”
“Good. Anything else I should know about?”
Bree’s gut churned. Was she that transparent?
She hadn’t told Bex about the messages from her ex. Bree knew how her best friend would react. Without knowing some of the uglier details of the breakup three years ago, Bex had been ready to take a bat to Alex’s precious car.
It was just a few voicemails and a text message. He’d get bored and give up when she didn’t respond. So why get Bex upset for nothing? Besides, she didn’t want to talk about Alex. She’d given him three years of her life, and he didn’t deserve another moment of it.
“Everything is fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Brianna Evans,” Bex said. “But whether it’s Wes or something else that’s bothering you, I’m here when you’re ready to talk.”
Bree ended the call and hoped like hell that everything would be all right.
* * *
Wes leaned against the hood of the car, his hands shoved into his pockets as he waited for Bree.
An entire week together. Alone.
What had he been thinking when he proposed this trip?
That there was no way in hell Bree would agree to his request. If he’d bet money on it, he’d have lost his flat back in London and everything in it, because Bree called his bluff. Which left him no choice but to go through with it.
Not one of my better ideas.
Nor was it part of some calculated grand plan. He’d planned this trip two weeks ago, only he’d intended to travel solo. After two decades of living abroad, he was out of touch. He needed this research trip as much as Brianna did. Besides, time on the road alone would’ve given him a chance to clear his head, still spinning from the reality of his mother’s illness.
Then there was the dark truth that he didn’t dare admit, not even to himself.
He wanted an excuse to spend time with Bree.
A small part of him hoped that the competitive spirit that made Bree Evans a world class athlete would prompt her to accept his challenge.
Wes glanced at his watch. Five minutes past their scheduled departure.
Maybe she planned to leave him waiting—her retribution for how he’d treated her in London.
Served him right. He’d been an ass, even if he’d done it for the right reasons. Then he heard her voice.
“Sorry I’m late. My mom called as I was leaving.” Bree pulled a small carry-on bag behind her. Slim, dark-wash jeans hugged her luscious curves. She wore a red-and-white striped blouse with a wide band at the waist.
“Is everything okay?” He opened the trunk.
“She needed to vent. My dad retired late last year, and he’s driving her crazy.” A tentative smile settled on her glossed lips.
“That all you’re bringing? We’ll be gone a week, you know?”
“I have everything I need. When you schlep your own luggage as much as I do, you learn to pack light.”
Bree eschewed his offer to take her bag. She lifted the small, black bag into the trunk. The band at her waist rose, providing Wes with a glimpse of the tattoo on her lower right side. A vibrant, purple butterfly landing on a lotus blossom rendered in a deep, rich shade of pink. He’d seen dozens of glossy photos of Bree online and in magazines. That tattoo hadn’t been in a single one. He would’ve remembered. So it was a recent addition. Or maybe she’d always had it airbrushed out of her photos.
What does it mean?
Asking was out of the question. Might as well confess he’d been gawking at her. Not a good move at the outset of their strictly business road trip.
“You’re traveling light, too.” Her voice broke into his thoughts.
“I’m a simple guy.” He closed the trunk and resisted the inclination to open her car door. After her insistence on handling her own luggage, he doubted she’d welcome the action. Instead, he gestured toward the car. “Shall we?”
“Sure.” An uneasy smile curled the edges of her mouth. The bravado s
he’d shown earlier was gone, if only for a moment.
It was a feeling he knew well. They weren’t on the road yet, and already the tension crept up his spine.
“Have you eaten?” When she indicated that she had, he slid behind the steering wheel and secured his seat belt. She did the same. “Good. We can hit the road right away. Got a long drive to Asheville.”
“I’ve always wanted to visit there.” Her smile deepened into one that lifted her cheeks and lit her eyes from within.
There’s that smile. The one he remembered so fondly from their night together in London.
“Good, because we’re spending two days there.” Wes turned the ignition, then headed onto the road.
“I noticed.” She waved a copy of the trip itinerary he emailed her because she’d insisted on one. It was pretty vague. Just a list of the cities he planned to visit and the dates they’d be there. “You’re not a man of many details, are you?”
Wes laughed. “You’d be surprised to learn that I’m known for my attention to detail. It’s an essential skill in planning and promotions.”
“So this list is purposely vague?” She held up the sheet again.
“I was going for Man of Mystery. Apparently, I’ve failed miserably.” He smiled. “So you’ll just have to take my word for it.”
Bree’s laughter warmed his chest. “So, Man of Mystery, what will we be doing in Asheville for two whole days?”
“Everything.” He wished he could rescind the word when her shoulder stiffened and her cheeks turned crimson. “I mean, there’s a lot to do there. Two days will barely scratch the surface. Got a few activities planned, but I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”
“Fair enough.” Bree stuffed the piece of paper back into her purse, then dropped her bag on the floor. “How long until we’re there?”
“It’s nearly a six-hour drive.”
Her eyes widened in protest. For a moment, he thought she might bolt from the moving vehicle. He held back a chuckle.
“Don’t worry, we’ll stop for lunch in Raleigh. Give you a chance to stretch your legs out and sample some of the best barbecue in the state.”
“Raleigh’s in central North Carolina. So will we be having Eastern or Western-style barbecue?”
“Someone’s been doing her research.”
“You said I didn’t know enough about the state.” She shrugged. “I decided you were right.”
They were silent for a few minutes, then he asked the question that had lingered in his mind from the moment she agreed to the trip.
“So...why’d you change your mind about joining me on this trip?” Liam would accuse him of looking a gift horse in the mouth. Still, he needed to know.
“Other than the fact that you asked me?” She stared out of the passenger window.
He grinned. “Yeah, besides that.”
“Partly because you didn’t expect me to say yes. Partly because you were right. We can’t beat the Miami or LA tourneys at their own game. We must focus on what sets Pleasure Cove apart. I need a better understanding of the location in order to do that.”
“Is that why you haven’t gone home between the meetings?”
She didn’t reply right away, and he nearly regretted asking. What business was it of his if she hadn’t returned home? Yet, when Liam mentioned it, in passing, he couldn’t help wondering why she’d stayed.
“Sorry, it’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s fine. I just wondered how you... Ahh, Liam.”
Shit.
Should’ve kept his mouth shut. Now she’d think they were a couple of gossiping men. “We talked while I was in London. He mentioned he saw you at lunch.”
She nodded thoughtfully, though he wasn’t sure if she accepted his explanation or was simply acknowledging that she heard it. “I was able to conduct all of my meetings via phone or email. Since I had no pressing issues back home, I stayed put. It gave me a chance to familiarize myself with the venue and some spots around town.”
“And what do you think of Pleasure Cove?” He was glad to sway the conversation from the fact that he’d been keeping tabs on her.
“The town or the resort?”
“Both.”
“The town is idyllic. Charming. There’s an eclectic mix of locally owned shops and eateries along the beach and downtown. I admire the fact that they’ve kept the big-box stores and chains at bay. A lot of those small, quaint shops couldn’t stay afloat if they had to compete with them.”
“You have been getting to know the locals. And what you say is true. But their reluctance to change also left the town outdated, almost losing its relevance except with the handful of tourists who’ve been coming here for years, many of them since they were kids. A lot of the old guard fear the evils of commercialization, but the town and its economy needed the shot in the arm that infusion of cash brought.”
“I’ve heard a few debates about it in town. So I understand the careful balancing act we have to do. We have to find a way to bring in the masses without pissing off the locals. That’s why I thought a family-friendly event would work best. It’s something everyone in town could enjoy.”
It was too early in the trip to get into a heated debate about the format of the tournament again. Bree took the hint and changed direction.
“That reminds me, I think we should source goods and services for the event locally. It won’t be feasible in every instance, but it may buy us some goodwill with the locals. Besides, it’s just the decent thing to do.”
“Great idea. My go-to vendors are all in the UK. I need to build a database of stateside vendors anyway. I’d love to patronize local shops.”
“Good to know you don’t disagree with all of my ideas.”
Don’t take the bait, man.
An uncomfortable silence settled over the car. Wes turned on the radio and focused on the road.
Maybe their trip wasn’t off to a stellar start, but he had seven days to convince Bree they were on the same side.
Chapter 8
By the time they arrived in Raleigh, Bree was restless. Their conversation had been cordial, but thankfully there hadn’t been much of it during the two-hour drive up I-40W. She’d taken a series of business calls.
Wes probably thought she was being rude. If he did, she couldn’t blame him. Under normal circumstances, she would’ve waited until she arrived to take the calls in private. However, the creative department for her biggest sponsor—a major athletic-wear line—was in a panic.
Already three weeks behind schedule getting to production, her latest sportswear line hit another snag. The team was in crisis mode.
“We’re here.” Wes pulled into a recently vacated parking space on the street.
“Perfect timing.” Bree hit Send on the follow-up email to the call that had lasted nearly an hour. She shoved her tablet in her bag. “I’m done with work and I’m starving.”
“Me, too.” Wes stepped out of the car and came around to open her door. A wide smile lifted the corners of his sensuous mouth as he extended his hand to her.
Bree slipped her hand into his. A slight shiver trailed up her arm and his scent enveloped her.
She’d been aware of his masculine scent as they rode in the car, but it was subtle. Standing toe-to-toe with him, she was enraptured by the scent. She inhaled the notes of lavender, orange and patchouli, her eyes fluttering closed for the briefest moment. Bree withdrew her hand from his and stepped away, hitching her purse on her shoulder.
Wesley’s gaze dropped to the stretch of skin the movement left exposed at her waist. His eyes traced her tattoo. A butterfly alighting on a lotus blossom. Warmth filled her cheeks.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. It’s a beautiful tattoo. The colors are exceptionally vibrant, and it fits you.”
“Thanks.” She tugged down her blouse.
You are not attracted to him. You are not attracted to him. You are not...
Who was she kidding?
Of course she was attracted to Wesley Adams. He was tall, dark, handsome and incredibly fit. A fact not hidden by the gray, lightweight sweater he wore over a pale blue button-down shirt. His dark eyes, framed by neat, thick brows, seemed to stare right through her, exposing her every thought and emotion.
Bree folded her arms and nodded toward a redbrick-and-glass building that looked like a converted warehouse. “This the place?”
A stupid question, but she needed to say something. Anything.
“You bet.” Wes placed a hand low on her back as he steered her out of the way of a group of people who’d spilled out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk. “Just wait until you try the chopped barbecue and fried okra.”
Bree tried to ignore the heat seeping into her skin and the way her body reacted to his touch.
“Not a fan of okra. It’s so...slimy. Human food should not be slimy.”
The laughter that rumbled in his chest vibrated against her shoulder. “I don’t disagree. In fact, the only way I’ll eat it is fried.” He ushered her inside.
“I’m not eating anyone’s okra.” Her tone was definitive.
“That’d be a shame, ’cause our okra is awful good.” A gorgeous blonde with sparkling blue eyes flashed her brilliant teeth in a good-natured smile.
“I’m sure it is.” Bree tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s just not my thing.”
“We got a menu full of options. You’ll have plenty to choose from.”
They settled into their booth and Bree scanned the menu.
“We can order whenever you’re ready.” Wes sipped his water.
“You haven’t touched your menu.”
Wes grinned. “Don’t need it. I know exactly what I want.”
* * *
He hadn’t intended to, but as Bree studied the options, her gaze buried in the menu, Wes took the opportunity to study her.
