by Katee Robert
Annoyed with herself all over again, she shoved off the covers and climbed to her feet. Her muscles tightened in protest, but they weren’t sore enough to keep her from the gym right now. She’d just take it as easy as possible while still burning away thoughts of a certain country boy.
Regan pulled on her last pair of shorts and tank top. If she kept this up, she was going to have to do laundry sooner rather than later. Putting the worry out of her mind—and wishing she could do the same with the rest of the thoughts circling her head—she pocketed her hotel key and marched down the hallway to the elevator. Unsurprisingly, there was no one up and about at this ungodly hour. If she was lucky, she’d have the whole gym to herself.
The elevator took long enough to get to her floor that she actually considered the stairs, but then she was on her way down. A little bit longer and the steady pounding of her feet would drive away everything pricking at her. She wished she could blame the edgy feeling making her twitchy on the scare during the scavenger hunt. It had been years since she’d set foot outside of a city, and she hadn’t been prepared for how much it would shake her. She’d thought she had a handle on her intense…dislike…of nature since she’d hit a few resorts, but a beach was a far cry from all those freakish trees.
The reminder of how easy it was to make her powerless made her want to lash out just to prove she wasn’t. It wasn’t a rational response, hence her repeated trips to the gym. A bout of sweaty sex would work even better for getting her back into fighting shape mentally, but every time she thought of it, her mind conjured up thoughts of Brock. Falling back into bed with him would cause more problems than it’d solve, so the gym it was.
She shuddered and pushed open the door, making it three steps into the room before she realized she wasn’t alone. Sophie was on the same treadmill Julie had taken yesterday morning, and the determined expression on her face made Regan wonder what she was running from—or running toward.
Maybe one day she’d actually learn to keep her nose out of other people’s business… But today wasn’t that day. Not when whatever Sophie’s problem was might detract from hers.
She waved and stepped onto the treadmill next to her. “Hey.”
Sophie did a double take. “Hey, Regan.” Her gaze coasted from Regan’s feet to her ponytail before she seemed to realize what she was doing and blushed. “You look different.”
Which was why she didn’t make a habit of socializing with people in gym getup. It wasn’t great for her image. This week, she’d already run into more people than she wanted to while covered in her own sweat. Brock hadn’t seemed to care, though. Hell, the look he’d given her before she walked away the last time had nearly curled her toes. And that was after a hard run.
Sophie turned back to her treadmill. “Sorry. That was rude. Forget I said anything.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m just in a weird headspace right now and not exactly fit for polite company.” She rolled her shoulders and keyed up the treadmill, setting it to a fast walk to warm up. Once her muscles got going, she’d see about actually running. “Besides, I’m not one of those smug bitches who gets done up to head to the gym. If you’re not sweating, you’re doing something wrong.”
A smile twitched the edges of Sophie’s lips. “I don’t think half the women at my gym got that memo.”
“Mine, either. I can’t figure out whom they’re trying to impress. Most of them have wedding rings.” And as soon as she’d started walking and chatting, the woman had relaxed a little. She still didn’t look completely comfortable, but she also didn’t seem like she was going to bolt out of the gym at the first sudden move Regan made. “I have a theory.”
“What’s that?”
“They’re not trying to impress men—they’re trying to prove they get banging bodies just by showing up. Women like that live on the shame of people around them.”
Sophie frowned. “That seems kind of harsh.”
“It is.” And she’d make no apologies for that. But it was obviously time to change the subject now that she’d gotten the woman talking a little. She shot a look over. “You know, I’d suspected you were hiding a banging body of your own under those artfully baggy clothes. I approve.”
She hunched her shoulders and then gritted her teeth as she seemed to force herself to stand straight. “I’m not quite there yet. Not like you.”
“Me? Honey, I’d kill for an ass like yours.” She grinned. “So, you were awful quiet the other night. Is there a groomsman you have your eye on? I think it’s pretty clear Reed’s spoken for thanks to our Julie, and I’m all over Bro—holy shit, I mean Logan, but that leaves two highly eligible bachelors.” Goddamn it. Had she really just said that aloud?
She blushed again and stammered, “I-I… Why would you think that?”
“Why wouldn’t I think that?” No need to mention that her response confirmed Regan’s suspicions. Shy little Sophie had her eye on someone. “Come on, spill. I can keep a secret.”
Sophie’s phone rang before she choked on whatever she was about to say and she practically dived for it. “Yes?” She frowned. “When? Oh crap, that’s not good. I’ll be right up.” She clicked off and gave Regan a worried look. “Christine and Tyler are missing.”
Regan looked at her phone, but it stayed stubbornly silent. By the time she glanced back at Sophie, she was off her treadmill and heading for the door. She turned back right as she pushed it open. “It was…nice…talking to you.”
“Yeah, you, too.” She heard the door shut, but she was busy picking up her phone. No missed calls, texts, or smoke signals. Why the hell had Sophie been called in to help? No offense to the woman—she seemed really sweet—but she wasn’t exactly toting around a Girl Scout sash full of survivalist badges. There was no way she was better in the outdoors than Regan.
But they’d called her in despite that.
She tried to be rational. Everyone and their dog knew how she felt about the woods. Obviously they wouldn’t want to waste the time holding her hand when they were looking for Christine. But… She could have sat back in the lobby and bullied up some hot chocolate and coffee or something. Though Julie had most likely already taken care of it. And Kady was no doubt spearheading the search with the same tenacity that got her the big accounts. Sophie… God only knew what Sophie was there to do.
They didn’t have a use for her.
It hurt, probably more than it should. Needing the distraction, she upped her speed until her tired legs could barely keep up the pace. Running herself into the ground wouldn’t solve the problem, but hopefully it would give her the emotional distance she so desperately needed.
…
The ringing phone brought Brock out of a really fantastic dream involving Regan, naked and desperate in his bed. He cursed as he rolled over and eyed the alarm clock on the nightstand. “Somebody better be dead for them to be calling me at six a.m.” He grabbed his cell phone. “What?”
“Tyler and Christine are missing. Reed’s out there with the maid of honor, Julie, right now, but we need all the manpower we can get on this.”
Instantly, he was awake. “How long have they been gone?”
He could hear the frustration in Colton’s voice. “We don’t know. Not everyone finished the damn scavenger hunt, so we just assumed they’d gone off to do their own thing. But neither of them made it to their rooms as of four this morning, and Kady is freaking out.”
“I’ll be in the lobby in five minutes.”
“Thanks, man.”
He hung up and reached for his pants. It took less than two minutes to dress and be out his door. He knew he looked a little worse for wear with his hair sticking out in all directions…and then cursed himself for caring. What did it matter if he ran into Regan? She’d already made her decision about them.
Colton met him in the lobby, Kady by his side, both looking worried. “Any word?”
“No,” Kady said. The phone in her hand trilled, and she nearly fumbled it in her attempt to get
it to her ear. “Yes? Oh, thank God. We’ll meet you in the lobby.” She ended the call. “Julie found them.”
“Good.” He hadn’t really had a chance to talk to Tyler, but the guy seemed decent, if a little overprotective. He could get that, though. He didn’t like the thought of anyone messing with Sophie.
Speaking of… Brock’s attention narrowed in on her as Sophie stepped out from the shadow of the hallway to the lobby. He frowned. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she had the flushed look of someone who’d recently had sex. Yes, he could blame it on the fact she’d obviously just been in the gym…but there was a heavy-lidded look that only came from one thing. What the fuck? Who the hell was sleeping with Colton’s baby sister? He’d whup their ass.
He started toward her, but then Reed stormed into the lobby, quickly followed by Julie, the maid of honor, and Tyler carrying Christine.
Immediately, all hell broke loose.
Julie was trying to plan…something, at the top of her lungs with Kady, while Reed glowered at her. Uh-oh. Brock knew that look, and it meant nothing good. Then Christine struggled out of Tyler’s arms and nearly toppled when she tried to walk. He moved forward to catch her, but Tyler was already there.
Christ. Maybe he should just take a few steps back until this sorted out. He backed up and dropped into a nearby chair. There was still the question of who was desecrating Sophie, and that required his attention more than a couple of grown adults who seemed just fine, aside from Christine’s ankle.
Logan wandered over with an oversize to-go cup of Starbucks and took the empty seat next to him, wincing slightly as he settled into the chair.
“Buddy, you’ve been spending too much time behind your fancy desk if a scavenger hunt leaves you sore.” Petty, but he was feeling pretty fucking petty where Logan was concerned. What was so great about him that made Regan lose her damn mind whenever he showed up?
The worst part was that he knew exactly what a woman like Regan would see in Caine 2.0. He was handsome enough, successful, and polished in a way Brock had never quite managed on his best day.
“Yeah,” Logan said, and shot a look toward Sophie. “It’s like someone kicked my ass and left me for dead.” Sophie blushed and hustled over to the group fussing over Christine.
Holy shit, Logan and Sophie? He’d already fantasized about slugging the guy in his too-pretty face, and now the urge turned tangible…except Logan’s eyes followed Sophie across the room, and there was something in his look beyond conquest or lust. Something unsettled and, well, fuck it, captured. Yeah, you recognize it because you stared at the same goddamn pathetic look in your mirror this morning.
He pushed that thought out of his head, and put the impulse to do bodily harm on hold. Frankly, Logan falling for Sophie would simplify things for him. If he’d figured out the dynamics between those two this easily, it wouldn’t be long before Regan learned the score, and then she could back the fuck off Logan’s jock, thus clearing the way for him.
But if Logan broke Sophie’s heart, or gave her a moment’s trouble, Brock would gladly deliver the next ass-kicking, and Golden Boy would be sipping his Starbucks through a straw.
Julie spoke up, pulling him from his violent musings. “We’re going to need flats for all the bridesmaids. We can’t have Christine being the odd one out. Preferably silver to match the dresses.” She looked around. “Where’s Regan? I need my shopping expert.”
Brock was moving before he made a conscious decision to. He stepped forward, putting himself in her path. It was the surest way to get her attention, and if he’d learned anything from being around Julie, it was that once she got moving, it’d take a brick wall to slow her down. “I’ll find her. Silver shoes. Got it. Anything else?”
“N-no. Thank you, Brock.” She patted him on the shoulder and gave him a smile that was so bright it nearly singed his eyeballs. “Bless your heart. I’m sure Regan can figure out sizes.”
Southern women. Sweet as pie until they’re pissed, then it’s all shotguns and setting shit on fire.
“What’s her room number, darlin’?”
She rattled it off, and then she was moving again, turning back to Christine. That was all the dismissal he needed. Doing his damnedest not to examine his motivation too closely, he strode to the elevators and took one up to Regan’s floor. No doubt she’d be asleep at this hour, and with good reason. No one in their right minds got up with the sun when they didn’t have to.
Except when he knocked on her door, she answered it fully clothed and covered in sweat. Apparently she’d taken another trip to the gym. Regan frowned when her gaze landed on him. “If I didn’t make myself clear yesterday—”
“Tyler and Christine spent the night in the woods.”
“I know. I was on my way down to help find them.”
“Don’t worry, they’re back and they’re fine.” He waved that away. “The long and short of it is that Julie sent me to ask you to buy bridesmaids’ shoes in silver. And flat.”
She rubbed a hand over her face. “Shopping. I can do shopping. I need to shower and eat something—no stores will be open for a few hours anyway.”
“Great. I’ll do the same and meet you back here in an hour for breakfast.”
“Not necessary. This constitutes an emergency, and you’ll only slow me down.”
Brock laughed. “If I slow you down, drinks are on me tonight.”
“Stop trying to get me drunk. You got laid once. That’s all there is.” She glanced back into her room as if searching for something, but then sighed. “I don’t have time to argue about this. Be ready, or you’re getting left behind.”
Chapter Eight
Regan managed to power through getting ready and loading up a plate of fruit and yogurt without letting herself think too much. The list of things she wasn’t thinking about only grew as time went on.
About her conflicting feelings over Brock, which led to conflicting feelings over pursuing Logan.
About the fact that not a single one of her friends had thought to call her to search for Christine. It still hurt that no one asked her for help until they needed someone to shop.
She picked at her food before finally shoving the plate away. A smart woman knew her strengths and played to them. Julie knew what she was doing when she asked Regan to take care of the shoes. If Christine couldn’t walk well, heels were out of the question. Regan was the best woman for the job.
But it also made her feel the most expendable. Julie couldn’t afford to leave the resort with the wedding coming up so quickly. Kady was the one getting freaking married. Sophie… Sophie had the nasty tendency to fade into the background, and Regan was pretty damn sure that was just the way the little brunette liked it.
Stop it. You did not just get picked last for the kickball team. These are your best friends. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.
Brock dropped into the seat across from her, his plate piled high with waffles, bacon, eggs, and sausage. He nodded, but seemed content to let her eat in peace.
Except she wasn’t eating. She was indulging in a pity party.
Regan really should be too old for this shit. She was a professional. Getting her feelings hurt over something that was probably unintentional was stupid. So she made an effort to push it to the back of her mind and to eat. She needed the calories after all the time she’d spent in the gym the last twenty-four hours.
The reason for all that running was sitting across from her, and he was enamored with his bacon from the look on his face.
This was also her damn fault. If she hadn’t opened that can of worms at the bar with Brock, she wouldn’t be losing sleep thinking about how unbelievably good his chest looked without a shirt covering it, or how easily he made her forget herself when he got his hands and mouth on her. It was those memories—and fantasies—that had driven her into the gym at the tender hour of five-thirty.
By all rights, she should be so freaking exhausted that sex should be the last thing on her mind. It�
��s too bad life didn’t work out like that. Her hormones had minds of their own, and they were currently focused on Brock.
Stupid hormones.
Her fork scraped bare plate, and she looked down in surprise. While she’d been brooding over him and his freakishly sexy smile, she’d finished her food.
“You’re done. Good. Let’s go.”
His plate was clean, too. She stared. “How the hell did you finish that so fast?”
“I’m a growing boy.” He grinned, those laugh lines carving dents in his cheeks. Thank God she was sitting or she might have fallen over in the face of the sheer amusement in his expression. Brock turned those sparkling dark eyes her way. “You’d think you’ve never lived with a man.”
She didn’t figure now was the time to tell him she really hadn’t. For Regan, college had come first, and she’d been too concerned with work and keeping the scholarships that supplemented her parents’ contributions to worry about a boyfriend serious enough to live with. Not to mention if it was a choice between a guy and her sorority, she would have happily turned any boy down.
Then it’d been moving back to New York and fighting her way up in her field. With the eighty-hour workweeks, there’d barely been time to meet her local friends for a drink now and then, let alone hold down anything more serious. For God’s sake, she couldn’t even keep her potted fern alive.
So she pasted a smile on her face and pushed her chair back. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Maybe you’re just developing a soft spot for me.”
No way. She led the way out to the parking lot and looked around at the sea of vehicles. “I don’t suppose you rented a car.” It was a minor detail she hadn’t considered. She’d had a car pick her up at the airport so she didn’t have to bother with one.
She probably should have thought of that before marching out here.
But he pressed his hand to the small of her back, guiding her to the row of cars on the left. “This way.”
