Baiting the Maid of Honor (Wedding Dare #2)(22)

Chapter Nine


His and Julie’s association was far from over.

Reed crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the brick building. He’d given up on sleep sometime around four in the morning and had decided to make himself useful. He still couldn’t believe how he’d gone about making himself useful, but it was too late to change it now.

Irritation rumbling in his throat, Reed dragged a hand down his face. He had a serious problem and the crisp mountain air was doing precious little to fix it. How exactly had he managed to f*ck up a chance to spend the week in Julie’s bed? On the surface, the answer was deceptively simple. He’d opened his mouth and let the worst possible post-orgasm sentiment known to man escape. Truthfully, though? He still wasn’t 100 percent sure he hadn’t done it on purpose. She’d thrown him for a goddamn loop, going from skittish good girl to a heck-I’ll-try-anything-once sex goddess in mere minutes.

The girl he’d assumed to be an uptight Georgia debutante took regular pole dancing classes. Enjoyed them. If he ever got the image of those legs wrapped around a pole out of his head, he might have the chance to register surprise.

Lord, the things they’d done. Things she’d initiated. He’d never, ever, expected it from her. And damn it if that wasn’t what made it so f*cking hot. Everyone’s favorite, lovable Goody Two-Shoes turned into a very bad girl under the right kind of touch. His touch, specifically. The thought made the ever-present fire in his belly burn brighter, even as he reminded himself how dangerous that type of thinking could be. He didn’t have a claim on her. He didn’t want or need any emotional entanglements, especially with some upper-class daddy’s girl with a wardrobe that likely cost more than his car. Yet the thought of unleashing all her pent-up sensuality, coaxing it to life, then walking away at the end of the week made him…oddly anxious. Okay, sickeningly so.

When his intention had been simply to get under her skirt, stamp an expiration date on the outrageous attraction he felt for her, everything had been so incredibly simple. Show the spoiled, uptight brat what real passion felt like and walk away without a single regret. Someone hadn’t passed the memo on to Julie, however. Or maybe she’d gotten it, and he’d decided to ignore it instead. Now that he knew what lay underneath the top coat of perfect polish, he saw way too much when he looked at her. As if one glimpse at the Julie beneath now made it impossible for him to see the other one.

Yet after what they’d done together, to each other’s bodies, she’d turned right back into the vulnerable girl she’d been walking into the forest. She’d wrapped her arms around him and he’d…felt something. Right before panic set in.

He didn’t cuddle or reassure. He didn’t dole out sweet nothings. He didn’t get close to women, or anyone for that matter, save his two closest friends. And it would be a cold day in hell before he whispered sweet nothings in one of their ears. Even after such a short acquaintance, he sensed Julie knew this about him. So why she’d gone and hugged him, held on to him tightly as if she wanted to absorb him, Reed couldn’t guess. He supposed his panic stemmed from the fact that he’d liked her arms around him. He’d wanted to gather her up against his chest and sink back into the water. Let them both recover for a while as they drifted. God knows, he’d needed a damn minute after what she’d done to him. He still hadn’t completely recovered.

Instead, he’d recognized the dangers of giving in to the urge. This insanity between them needed to find a way to remain casual. To begin with, they were far too different. He didn’t even say the word “relationship” out loud. Julie, being less experienced than him, could easily mistake sex for something more. She would start expecting things from him. Things he didn’t have a hope in hell of getting right. Growing up, he’d had no example to go by. His parents had been enemies right up until the point his mother died. Even before she’d been diagnosed with cancer, she’d simply been a shell. Made that way from constant criticism—a product of his father’s alcohol-fueled hatred. No. It would be up to him to make sure he and Julie didn’t go any further than casual. It would only lead to disappointment. He would only lead to disappointment, because that was all he’d ever learned how to deliver. It was in his blood. Just look at how he’d gone and offended her two seconds after…

Jesus, after what she’d done with her mouth.

Why then did he wish like hell he could go back in time and pull her closer in that spring?

One thing he harbored zero doubts about? The week wouldn’t go by without him having Julie again. Even now, he wanted to go pound on her door and demand to be let in. If luck was on his side, she slept naked so he’d have nothing to stop him from f*cking her where she stood.

He shook himself when he saw Brock approaching, looking nearly as frustrated as he felt.

“What the hell are you doing up this early?”

Reed raised an eyebrow at Brock’s tone, so different from his usual teasing drawl. “I could ask you the same question.”

“Well, keep it to yourself, because I haven’t got a damn answer.”

“I could hazard a guess.”

“Same goes.” Brock practically threw his body against the wall to join Reed. “You reckon there’s something in the water in Colorado that only the women are drinking?”