Seducing the Bridesmaid (Wedding Dare, #3)(10)
But that was neither here nor there. She had her plan, and her plan wasn’t going to be altered just because she was suddenly starting to feel lonely. Maybe the right guy would walk into her life and change all that.
The right guy could very well be Logan McCade.
She typed his name into her search engine and cruised through the results, determined to take more than the five minutes she’d managed before she got on the plane from NYC. Most of them concerned his company, Defy Gravity, and its many successes. Nice. He got his MBA at Yale, and had been doing well for himself ever since, conquering one barrier after another and making his company a raging success. Honestly, he was borderline disgustingly perfect.
What could it hurt to get to know him a little more? She couldn’t have drawn up a man who fit her plan better if she’d tried.
Against her better judgment, her thoughts slid back to the man she’d just left, bringing up a side-by-side image of him and Logan. Damn it. What did it matter if Brock was the one who made her toes curl? He was the love ’em and leave ’em weeping and clutching their skirts type.
They’d had their fun and now it was over.
Then again, what could one more little Google search hurt? And if she called in a favor with Addison… It was totally justified. She had just slept with the man, so there was nothing wrong with finding out a little more about him. Addison had all the best connections for finding out everything regarding new clients before she took them on. Regan had never figured out how she found all the dirt on people so quickly, but Addison was a mother hen when it came to her clients. She refused to take on someone she wouldn’t be able to back 100 percent. It was part of the reason they got along so well—Regan understood and respected the kind of drive and dedication it took to be a success.
Her fingers flew over the keyboard before she could talk herself out of it. Brock McNeill, younger son of Vince McNeill, owner of the biggest corporation south of Kentucky. His oldest son, Caine, currently held the CEO position, and Brock was listed as the VP.
Shockingly, the information hadn’t changed since the last time she did this search. Further down the page there was a link to a prominent gossip column. Regan rolled her eyes. An art gallery opening—just the place rich men liked to show up with gorgeous women on their arms and pretend they knew what the hell they were looking at. As expected, when she pulled up the article, there was a picture of Brock and a woman whose chest sure as hell wasn’t the one she was born with. She leaned against him, smiling up as if he were the most interesting person she’d ever met.
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.”