Seducing the Bridesmaid (Wedding Dare, #3)(11)
“The usual?”
“Yeah, I need to know all his dirty little secrets.” Though she was sure that list would be longer than her arm. God, why had she bothered listing him at all? He wasn’t the one she wanted. Regan bit her lip, hating the way her heart sped up at the thought of him. Wrong. It was so wrong. “And I need the same on Logan McCade.”
“Will do. I don’t suppose this is for pleasure instead of business?”
“It might be.”
“Holy crap, has Regan Wakefield finally found a man who’s making her think of settling down?”
“I won’t know until I get more information, now will I? And Addison, thanks.”
“Anytime. You know that.”
“Talk to you soon.” She hung up and dropped her phone onto the desk. What the hell was wrong with her? She shouldn’t be spending any of her time and resources on Brock, no matter how much she’d enjoyed the sex.
Finding out more about Logan was the goal.
She frowned at her complete lack of excitement over the thought. It must be because she hadn’t really had a chance to talk to him. Once she did, things would click into place.
Regan picked up the helpfully detailed itinerary she had no doubt Julie was responsible for. Tomorrow was the scavenger hunt. The perfect opportunity for getting close to Logan and figuring out if they had spark potential.
Plan firmly in place, she headed for the shower—no way could she sleep with the scent of Brock on her skin. It made her body feel hot and achy, wondering what it would have been like to let him actually get his hands on her. She shook her head. It didn’t matter how good he made her feel, he wasn’t the settling-down type, and that’s what she wanted now that thirty was on the horizon.
Why was she even thinking about this? He’d had his taste, and now he’d move on to greener pastures. And it seemed like he’d done this kind of thing enough that she could be sure things wouldn’t be awkward while she did the same. Just in case, though, she’d avoid him as much as possible for the rest of the week.
No need to overcomplicate things.
Chapter Four
Regan should have known she’d run into Julie at the gym at such an ungodly hour in the morning. Her best friend had always been something of an overachiever, though she’d balanced it out with a wicked wild streak in college. After her sister died, though, the wild child disappeared, replaced by an almost manic need to please everyone she came in contact with. Regan kept hoping she’d snap out of it, but grief could be a strange emotion.
Immediately, she could tell something was up with Julie, though apparently it wasn’t anger at Regan for switching room keys on her. Which meant she’d had a brilliantly good time with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous the night of the bachelorette party. But the way Julie was sprinting on that treadmill meant that either things had taken a turn for the worst…or they were going too well. She raised her eyebrows. “Uh-oh. She’s madder than a wet hen.”
“Now who’s going Southern?”
Was what she’d done with Brock written on her forehead? “Correction. I’ve gone Southern.” Images from last night flashed through head, the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her, every muscle in his body standing out as he fought not to touch her… The look of rage on his face when she walked out on him. Ugh. She pushed it away, wishing she could push away the uncomfortable feeling twisting her stomach as easily. It was over and done with. “Now I’m going West. It’s like my own version of the Gold Rush.”
Somehow Julie managed to keep a straight face. “Panning for orgasms.”
“I couldn’t have put it better myself.” Though she had no idea how anything with Logan could live up to last night. Not when Brock managed to do with one look what most men could do with an hour of good, hard work.
She really needed to stop thinking about him. “I need a… What are those things called? The scrubby ones made out of metal?”
“Sweet baby Jesus, Regan. Steel wool? How have you managed to survive as long as you have without it?”
“You already know the answer to that.” She laughed. “I don’t clean. Not when I can help it.”
“Isn’t that the truth? I still remember the life forms that your leftovers created in our fridge while we were gone on spring break during… What year was it? Sophomore?”
“Junior. We made the pledges clean it.” It had been a simpler time in a lot of ways, though her stress level had been through the roof. “It wasn’t my fault! It was in the middle of midterms and that old witch Cliver gave us two papers to write on top of it. I don’t think I slept for a week.”
“No one was sleeping after they got a look at the fridge. It was scarier than a snowstorm in the middle of July.” Julie glanced at the clock on the wall across from them. “I have to go. I’m late!”
“You’re late, you’re late, for a very important date… With Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous?”
She slammed the stop button. “That’s over and done with. Deader than a doornail. I have to clean up after last night’s party.”
“You know, I think there’s someone who does that for a living. Oh wait, I know what they’re called—housekeepers. Why don’t you slow down, let someone else carry the burden, and actually enjoy yourself?”