Best Man with Benefits (Wedding Dare, #4, McCade Brothers, #3)(36)
He’d barely taken a step when Regan sauntered over, sleek and graceful as a panther, and smiled up at him. “I believe we’re partners.”
Were they? He had no clue how tonight’s dance lesson was supposed to work. Frankly, he hadn’t counted on sticking around long enough to find out—which didn’t sound much like best man behavior. Try to get with the program.
He mustered up a smile, said, “That we are,” and guided her into the dance floor while scanning the room for Sophie. As usual, Regan looked like she’d stepped off the cover of a magazine—all calculated perfection, but undeniably eye-catching. He knew these kinds of women. He worked with them. Admired them. From time to time even slept with them. But tonight, Regan’s carefully tousled waves made him imagine Sophie’s dark, silky hair tumbled over his chest in beautiful disarray as she kissed her way down his body. Regan’s glossy, painted mouth filled him with a hunger for the taste and texture of Sophie’s full, pink, utterly naked lips.
The woman in his arms presented the world with a shiny, chip-resistant shell, but he recognized a veneer when he saw one. He’d stared at his own often enough to know. Sophie didn’t have the veneer. She was brave or honest enough to put her true self out there, vulnerabilities and all, which probably accounted for why she preferred the company of people she knew and trusted. He wanted—needed—to be one of those people.
He moved Regan around the dance floor on autopilot, all the while searching for Sophie.
Tonight’s instructor—some fussy guy with a fake French accent—swept up and “corrected” their stance, but Logan barely noticed the man’s coaching because he finally spotted Sophie across the dance floor. He nearly tripped over his own two feet at the sight of her. She wore a short, sexy red dress that showed off every mouthwatering line of her body. A body Brock currently had plastered against his under the guise of dancing with her.
Oh, hell no. Country Boy had better back off or…shit, Regan was talking to him.
“So, Kady tells me you own your own business? That’s very impressive.”
After the day he’d had, his business was about the least engaging topic imaginable, but he plastered on his company smile and gave her his attention. She was trying to be social. The least he could do was make the same effort. After a few minutes of chitchat, he’d excuse himself and go cut the f*ck in on Country Boy.
“Says the successful headhunter,” he replied, hoping to turn the conversation back to her. “You looking to poach one of my executives?” Then, because he caught a glimpse of Sophie looking up at Brock with her big, bottomless brown eyes before they moved out of his line of sight, he spun Regan around.
Regan’s moves were as smooth as the rest of her. She smiled and commented that she didn’t know enough about his business. He recognized it as an invitation to dive into a topic she assumed he’d be interested in discussing, but he couldn’t make himself play along, so he volleyed the conversational ball back at her. “Professional curiosity, of course?”
She really was smooth, or his rough edges were showing, because she picked up on his reluctance and changed course completely. “Maybe I’m considering taking up mountain climbing?”
He nearly burst out laughing at the image of Regan trading in her sky-high heels for a pair of flat, utilitarian climbing shoes and ruining her manicure scrambling up a slab of granite. She couldn’t care less about climbing. Obviously, she just wanted him to talk, and God help her, she’d hit upon a subject he could discuss until she snored. “In that case, let’s skip the business talk and get right to the good stuff.”
She smiled eagerly. He glanced over at Sophie and found himself the recipient of a brooding look. He took a small, perhaps petty measure of satisfaction from her reaction.
He returned his focus to Regan and launched into his standard spiel about the different types of rock climbing, the equipment, and the best places to climb. From the corner of his eye he watched as Sophie said something that made Brock laugh. She glanced his way again. He didn’t know what her game was, but he figured two could play.
He leaned closer to Regan and said, “But this is all theory until you get up on the wall,” which would happen sometime between “hell” and “never” if her expression served as any indication. “I don’t know much about what gyms are the best in New York, but if you ever end up on my side of the States, I’ll take you up.”
Regan stretched her pretty mouth into a smile that didn’t quite hide the no-freaking-way look in her eyes, said, “Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” and then went up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek.
Chapter Ten
Sophie hissed in a breath as Regan put her lips on Logan. Apparently she also dug her fingers into Brock’s arm because he made a noise that sounded almost like a growl. She let go, and stepped back, all too aware she felt like growling, too. The apology that sprang to her lips died away when a quick look at Brock told her his growl had nothing to do with her clutching his arm and everything to do with the kiss between Regan and Logan.
How could Logan spend all morning taking her on his own special version of an Outward Bound adventure, telling her how much he enjoyed spending time with her, and then stand there in the middle of a ballroom, smiling that Mr. Perfect smile while Regan put the moves on him? How could she have ignored her own inner voice—the one that had been insisting all along something about his attention didn’t add up, and that it was only a matter of time before somebody more confident and outgoing caught his eye? How could you have let yourself fall for him?