Seducing the Bridesmaid

by Katee Robert

  Having been on the receiving end of his charm, Regan couldn’t blame her. Even knowing better, she had still wanted to bask in his presence. Thank God she was far too stubborn for any of that nonsense.

  The article went on to detail the women Brock had been seen with and project who might be on his arm next. Hmmm. She closed out of it and went down the list, but each link was more of the same. There was next to no information on what Brock did at McNeill Enterprises, other than listing him as the VP. Which meant she was right—for all intents and purposes, he held a figurehead position.

  Shocking.

  With a laugh, she closed the laptop. She’d pegged him right. He was rudderless, and he didn’t show any signs of changing that any time soon. Still…

  “Damn it.” She grabbed her phone and swiped through her contacts.

  It rang only once before a cheerful female voice answered. “Regan! I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy trying to convince this software designer that he’d be happier in New York that I haven’t actually seen my city in two weeks.”

  Addison laughed. “You poor thing, getting to travel all the time.”

  “I seem to recall you telling me that it would take a crowbar and half a ton of dynamite to get you out of New York.” Her appreciation of the city was one of the things they’d bonded over when they first met.

  “What can I say? I love it here, and I don’t have time to leave even if I wanted to. Speaking of which… Aren’t you in the middle of nowhere for your sorority sister’s wedding? Why are you calling me? I suppose it’s too much to hope for that some cowboy has swept you off your feet and you’re announcing your engagement?”

  The image of Brock shirtless in that chair seemed determined to imprint itself on her brain. He was no cowboy—and he wasn’t engagement material—but he’d definitely made an impression. “Nothing like that. I need some information.”

  “Right now? You’re supposed to be on vacation and having a little fun.”

  A shiver rolled through her as she remembered the feeling of Brock inside her. Damn. Even the memory was enough to make her want to crawl back in his lap for a second go-round. “Trust me, I’m playing plenty while I’m here.”

  “I expect the dirty details when you get back.”

  “You know, if you played a little more, you wouldn’t have to live vicariously through me.” It was the same thing she’d said countless times before.

  As expected, Addison gave her the same response. “I don’t need to play. I’m happiest when I’m making other people happy. But stop trying to change the subject. Who’s the lucky person you need info on?”

  Logan. But when she opened her mouth, it was a different name that came out. “Brock McNeill.”

  “The usual?”

  “Yeah, I need to know all his dirty little secrets.” Though she was sure that list would be longer than her arm. God, why had she bothered listing him at all? He wasn’t the one she wanted. Regan bit her lip, hating the way her heart sped up at the thought of him. Wrong. It was so wrong. “And I need the same on Logan McCade.”

  “Will do. I don’t suppose this is for pleasure instead of business?”

  “It might be.”

  “Holy crap, has Regan Wakefield finally found a man who’s making her think of settling down?”

  “I won’t know until I get more information, now will I? And Addison, thanks.”

  “Anytime. You know that.”

  “Talk to you soon.” She hung up and dropped her phone onto the desk. What the hell was wrong with her? She shouldn’t be spending any of her time and resources on Brock, no matter how much she’d enjoyed the sex.

  Finding out more about Logan was the goal.

  She frowned at her complete lack of excitement over the thought. It must be because she hadn’t really had a chance to talk to him. Once she did, things would click into place.

  Regan picked up the helpfully detailed itinerary she had no doubt Julie was responsible for. Tomorrow was the scavenger hunt. The perfect opportunity for getting close to Logan and figuring out if they had spark potential.

  Plan firmly in place, she headed for the shower—no way could she sleep with the scent of Brock on her skin. It made her body feel hot and achy, wondering what it would have been like to let him actually get his hands on her. She shook her head. It didn’t matter how good he made her feel, he wasn’t the settling-down type, and that’s what she wanted now that thirty was on the horizon.

  Why was she even thinking about this? He’d had his taste, and now he’d move on to greener pastures. And it seemed like he’d done this kind of thing enough that she could be sure things wouldn’t be awkward while she did the same. Just in case, though, she’d avoid him as much as possible for the rest of the week.

  No need to overcomplicate things.

  Chapter Four

  Regan should have known she’d run into Julie at the gym at such an ungodly hour in the morning. Her best friend had always been something of an overachiever, though she’d balanced it out with a wicked wild streak in college. After her sister died, though, the wild child disappeared, replaced by an almost manic need to please everyone she came in contact with. Regan kept hoping she’d snap out of it, but grief could be a strange emotion.

  Immediately, she could tell something was up with Julie, though apparently it wasn’t anger at Regan for switching room keys on her. Which meant she’d had a brilliantly good time with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous the night of the bachelorette party. But the way Julie was sprinting on that treadmill meant that either things had taken a turn for the worst…or they were going too well. She raised her eyebrows. “Uh-oh. She’s madder than a wet hen.”

  “Now who’s going Southern?”

  Was what she’d done with Brock written on her forehead? “Correction. I’ve gone Southern.” Images from last night flashed through head, the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her, every muscle in his body standing out as he fought not to touch her… The look of rage on his face when she walked out on him. Ugh. She pushed it away, wishing she could push away the uncomfortable feeling twisting her stomach as easily. It was over and done with. “Now I’m going West. It’s like my own version of the Gold Rush.”

  Somehow Julie managed to keep a straight face. “Panning for orgasms.”

  “I couldn’t have put it better myself.” Though she had no idea how anything with Logan could live up to last night. Not when Brock managed to do with one look what most men could do with an hour of good, hard work.

  She really needed to stop thinking about him. “I need a… What are those things called? The scrubby ones made out of metal?”

  “Sweet baby Jesus, Regan. Steel wool? How have you managed to survive as long as you have without it?”

  “You already know the answer to that.” She laughed. “I don’t clean. Not when I can help it.”

  “Isn’t that the truth? I still remember the life forms that your leftovers created in our fridge while we were gone on spring break during… What year was it? Sophomore?”

  “Junior. We made the pledges clean it.” It had been a simpler time in a lot of ways, though her stress level had been through the roof. “It wasn’t my fault! It was in the middle of midterms and that old witch Cliver gave us two papers to write on top of it. I don’t think I slept for a week.”

  “No one was sleeping after they got a look at the fridge. It was scarier than a snowstorm in the middle of July.” Julie glanced at the clock on the wall across from them. “I have to go. I’m late!”

  “You’re late, you’re late, for a very important date… With Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous?”

  She slammed the stop button. “That’s over and done with. Deader than a doornail. I have to clean up after last night’s party.”

  “You know, I think there’s someone who does that for a living. Oh wait, I know what they’re called—housekeepers. Why don’t you slow down, let someone else carry the b
urden, and actually enjoy yourself?”

  Julie gave her a look like she was crazy. “I am enjoying myself. Taking care of people makes me happy.”

  Yeah, but who’s going to take care of you? Regan didn’t say it, because she knew Julie would just laugh her off. But she watched her best friend rush out of the gym, and she worried.

  She kept running for a while after Julie left, her thoughts circling totally unhelpfully. It was only around mile four that things started to fall into place. The scavenger hunt would be pairs of people searching for whatever the hell Kady had come up with on the list. So she’d dress to kill and work at catching Logan’s eye for a little alone time. From there, it’d be cake.

  If there was one thing Regan knew how to do, it was sway a man into seeing things her way. And right now, her way included Logan and a date.

  She slowed to a walk and then stopped altogether. After wiping the sweat off her face, she headed out. A shower and a full-on primp was on the books, so she’d need all the time she could spare.

  When the elevator opened on the floor below hers, she almost cursed aloud—she wasn’t the vainest creature on this planet, but if you walked out of the gym looking pretty, you were wasting your time there. She hadn’t planned on giving anyone a good look at her sweaty self.

  Obviously she should have taken the stairs.

  Then Logan stepped into the elevator and she wanted to curse even more. This was not the impression she’d planned on making when she said she was going to catch his eye. Frustrated, she pasted a smile on her face. “Logan. Fancy meeting you here.”

  He frowned for half a second, as if he didn’t recognize her. Then his hazel eyes widened. “Regan. Nice to see you. Going down?”

  Only last night on Brock. She looked away, wishing she could banish memories of him as quickly as they popped into her head. “Nope. Up.” She took in his rumpled clothing—the same clothing he’d been wearing last night. “You look like you’ve been getting into some trouble.”

  “Nothing like that.” His smile was nice, though she couldn’t help comparing it to a certain Southern boy’s. “I was up late working.”

  Well, hell. She had to admire a man who had that kind of commitment to his business. Working late nights was the name of the game for most of her week—the Chinese takeout down the street from her apartment knew her by name and order before she even opened her mouth.

  What had Logan been working on? She started to ask, but the elevator dinged again, opening on her floor. “This is my stop.”

  “It was nice talking to you.”

  She backed through the doors. “Maybe we can talk more during the scavenger hunt.”

  “That’d be great.”

  As the doors shut, she sagged against the wall. So much for leaving him wanting more. She should have taken off her tank top before she left the gym so she didn’t look like something an alley cat dragged in. Then at least he would have been distracted with all the skin she’d have been showing and ignored the rest of her. Even as she considered it, she wondered what the hell she was stressing about? As she walked into her room, Regan yanked out her ponytail holder with more force than strictly necessary.

  She wasn’t a precious little princess who dressed up so men would tell her she was pretty and fall at her feet. She wore the clothing she did for her, and because it was just another kind of armor. Like it or not, people judged her on the way she dressed, and failing to look professional could cost her a client.

  If seeing her in some sweaty gym clothes was enough to make Logan blow her off, then he was an idiot.

  Still… No reason to give him another reason to think twice.

  She dug through her suitcase, coming up with a dress she’d bought a few weeks ago that hugged every curve. The texturing changed it from skanky to sexy, but it didn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination. Combine it with a killer pair of heels and Logan would have to be dead not to sit up and take notice of her.

  …

  Running into Reed didn’t do a damn bit for Brock’s mood. He’d wanted some time alone to stew about what happened last night, to finally put it out of his head. It had been obvious when he saw his friend leaning against the side of the building that he had something on his mind. They weren’t the types to pour out their hearts, but a man wore a certain look on his face when dealing with woman problems.

  Low and behold, he’d been as snarly as Brock had ever seen him. “Told you she was trouble.”

  Yeah, he had. And Brock had ignored the underlying advice to steer clear of her before, and he was going to keep doing it. “Trouble is a significant underestimation.”

  Reed glanced at him in surprise. “Did you swallow a dictionary last night?”

  Christ. “I can use words longer than one syllable when I put my mind to it. When did everyone start thinking the opposite?”

  “You mean, when did you start giving a shit?”

  “That, too.”

  Reed shrugged. “Maybe it’s the altitude.”

  “Altitude indeed.” He wished he could blame last night on something so simple, but it’d be a dirty lie. He’d been on the losing side as soon as he followed Regan out of the bar. “Any man with half a brain would give that woman and her fool heels a wide berth.”

  “I’ve never known you to shy away from a challenge. Hell, you jumped off that cliff at the rock quarry when we were thirteen even when Colton refused to.”

  “This isn’t a challenge. This is impossible.”

  Reed snorted. “Is that really going to be enough to stop you?”

  Of course he’d say that. Growing up, he’d always been the reckless one, the one who made the questionable choices and the first to jump into any situation. Through it all, Brock had been hot on his heels. Reed and Colton were a staple of his childhood, the two kids who had never expected him to magically transform into a clone of his older brother. Every time he’d had a blowup with his parents, they’d been there to take his mind off things.

  And Reed…he had his own cross to bear. Even if Brock had been in danger of forgetting that, all it would take was a quick step to that hot night when they were twelve, and he had sneaked out to recruit Reed for some prank or other. What he’d seen when he got to Reed’s house had changed the course of his entire life.

  Brock rubbed a hand over his face. He’d never told Reed about the company he formed five years ago—or why—and today wasn’t going to be the day he came clean. Today was about figuring out what the hell he was going to do about Regan. “She’s a damned force of nature.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “Well, hell, when you put it that way.”

  “You’re just looking for a reason to chase her. You don’t need one. Get chasing.”

  Brock grinned, thinking back to Regan’s dog reference last night. “Wuff.”

  “That’s more like it.”

  He glanced at his watch. “It’s getting to be that time.” As much as he wasn’t looking forward to the scavenger hunt, he wouldn’t miss the chance to see little miss city girl wandering around in the woods. Anything that put that woman off her game was a good thing in his book.

  “Go on ahead. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  He never had. Reed might have made some fucked-up choices a few years ago, but it was the wake-up call he’d needed to get his life together. He still wasn’t the poster boy for well-adjusted, but Reed had been there for him over the years, even if they hadn’t talked about the reason Brock needed someone to lean on. Colton was gone nine months out of twelve, and while he made their summers full of good times, it was out of sight, out of mind when they were kids. But Reed never left. He was always willing to sneak out and walk aimlessly around town when Brock was feeling trapped by his father’s demands, or to come up with some crazy thing to keep them both distracted from the homes they had to go back to.

  Brock knew he was lucky to be born into the family he was, but he constantly felt strangled by his father’s expectations. Weighed down
by the fact that he’d never be Caine. His older brother did everything right, and no matter how hard he tried, he never measured up.

  So he’d stopped trying.

  Shit, he hadn’t meant to take that little trip down memory lane. Brock decided to take the long way through the grounds to where they were supposed to meet for the scavenger hunt. He needed time to get his game face on, because he had to figure out what the fuck he was going to do about Regan.

  Why should he do anything at all? She’d had her fun, and she couldn’t be clearer about not wanting anything to do with him again. Why not stop kicking a dead horse? It would sure as hell make his life a lot simpler.

  He rounded the corner to find a group of women gathered. There was the pretty blond cheerleader type who’d caught Reed’s eye, the quiet redhead, Kady with her almost-bride glow…and Regan.

  He let himself look his fill, taking in the waves in her hair that had to have taken some serious time to create, the dress that hugged every curve and made him wonder if she were wearing panties underneath, and those damned heels. He’d never cared one way or another for the shit women wore on their feet, but something about her bright-red heels made him picture how she’d look in nothing but them.

  Kady said something and Regan shot a panicked look his way. He took the opportunity to grin at her. If anything, she seemed even less pleased. Good. At least he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable here.

  As the group dispersed, the little redhead wandered over. She had the distracted look of someone with something serious on her mind. “Hey, Irish, a penny for your thoughts.”

  The redhead, Christine, he thought her name was, made a face. “As if I haven’t heard that one before.”