Baiting the Maid of Honor (Wedding Dare #2)(5)

Julie saluted with her glass. “Southern boys.”

Christine abruptly pushed her chair back, looking paler than before. “I-I need some air. I can’t breathe in here.”

Regan tried to st Christine with a hand on her arm. “How much did you drink?”

“Apparently not enough,” Christine responded. She and Regan had a hushed, heated conversation before Regan let her go. Christine made a beeline for the exit.

Concerned over her friend’s abrupt departure, Julie stood to go after, but was stayed by Kady’s sudden reappearance. “Girls, come on over and meet the groomsmen. Hands off the groom himself, but otherwise it’s open season.”





Chapter Four


Reed watched his little blond pixie shake hands with Logan, the best man he’d met a little over an hour ago. He’d seemed a decent sort, but Reed suddenly couldn’t stand the sight of him. Not with the way she looked up at him, a flirtatious smile playing at the edges of her lips. She, being the one who’d been putting him through an excruciating round of torture ever since she let him pull her hair out on the patio, forcing a sexy-as-hell sob from her delicious-looking mouth. Now her smooth, mile-long legs were on display for every male in the vicinity to ogle and fantasize about. It wasn’t working for him.

He’d been dreading the idea of this loud party. Making small talk with people he’d likely never see again once this week ended. He’d even considered heading back to his room and waiting for a less formal event to make his entrance. The last thing he’d expected was a blond bombshell to moan her way into his head, making him hard as a rock in the process.

She’d run away from him too soon, disappearing before he could ask her…what exactly? If she’d be willing to hike that dress a little higher and let him see how long those legs went on for? He’d love to ask her that question. Just to see if she’d give him that same sexy pout she’d intended as a set-down outside. The one that turned him on like hell instead.

Matter of fact, her dress did seem shorter than it had on the patio. Was it his imagination or had she hiked it up to drive him insane?

If she gave him the slightest encouragement, he’d have sucked that pouty lower lip between his teeth so he could swallow her next moan. Explain to her in no uncertain terms the effect her legs were having on him and every man inside the goddamn restaurant, before tugging the dress up over her hips and giving her a physical demonstration.

Such urgent need for one particular woman was completely unlike him. His outward demeanor warned off all but a certain type of woman and she did not, in any way, shape, or form, fit that description. Reed’s tastes tended toward women who could take a little manhandling. Begged for it, even. Oftentimes, women sensed his overwhelming need for control, struggling to be let loose inside him, and they approached him first. Being that Reed preferred keeping his conquests impersonal, fast and hard suited him perfectly. So did never looking back.

This being the case, the fact that he’d felt a flare of panic when she’d run from him didn’t sit well. He’d actually battled the urge to go after her. His desire to return to his room had ceased to be a possibility. Instead, he’d rounded the building and entered the Osprey Lounge, already anxious to see her again. Those gorgeous legs, elegantly crossed, had drawn his eye immediately and he hadn’t looked away once since then.

With her manicured hand resting on Logan’s forearm, she tossed back her head and laughed, flawless skin catching the candlelight. His fingers curled into his palm and squeezed. First, when the hell had he started noticing trivial details like candlelight? Second, she might not be his type, but if she didn’t stop laughing and flashing those wide blue eyes up at Golden Boy, he was going to carry her out of the lounge draped over his shoulder kicking and screaming.

It had been a long time since he’d felt his control slipping. He’d left that aspect of his personality behind him long ago before joining the force in Atlanta. After shedding his hell-raiser image, his energy had been channeled into work. Nothing riled him. Until her. Hell, he didn’t even know her name and had only spent a few minutes with her. What the hell was the matter with him?

“Easy now, big boy,” his best friend Brock drawled at his elbow. “There are enough bridesmaids for each and every one of us poor, wretched souls.” He tipped back his beer, eyes full of humor. “How would you feel about a midweek swap?”

Reed jerked his chin toward the pixie. “Name.”

“Now, how would I know? We haven’t been here but five minutes.”

He cast a skeptical look at his friend, who rarely entered a room without gathering stats on every available female.

Brock rolled his eyes. “Julie Piper. Maid of honor. Five foot…six? Hard to tell in those heels. Cute little peach of a thing, ain’t she?”

Reed grunted. “No swaps.”

“Hell, you’re no fun.” Brock feigned disappointment. “You planning on letting her sweet-talk Logan all night or you going to make a move?”

Julie’s gaze collided with his before flitting away once more. The simple look had the aftereffect of a sucker punch to the jaw. “When I’m ready. She’s not going anywhere with him.”

“Is that right? I know a woman with a plan when I see one.” He tipped his beer bottle in Julie’s direction. “That one’s got a plan.”