Seducing the Bridesmaid (Wedding Dare, #3)(22)
Colton met him in the lobby, Kady by his side, both looking worried. “Any word?”
“No,” Kady said. The phone in her hand trilled, and she nearly fumbled it in her attempt to get it to her ear. “Yes? Oh, thank God. We’ll meet you in the lobby.” She ended the call. “Julie found them.”
“Good.” He hadn’t really had a chance to talk to Tyler, but the guy seemed decent, if a little overprotective. He could get that, though. He didn’t like the thought of anyone messing with Sophie.
Speaking of… Brock’s attention narrowed in on her as Sophie stepped out from the shadow of the hallway to the lobby. He frowned. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she had the flushed look of someone who’d recently had sex. Yes, he could blame it on the fact she’d obviously just been in the gym…but there was a heavy-lidded look that only came from one thing. What the f*ck? Who the hell was sleeping with Colton’s baby sister? He’d whup their ass.
He started toward her, but then Reed stormed into the lobby, quickly followed by Julie, the maid of honor, and Tyler carrying Christine.
Immediately, all hell broke loose.
Julie was trying to plan…something, at the top of her lungs with Kady, while Reed glowered at her. Uh-oh. Brock knew that look, and it meant nothing good. Then Christine struggled out of Tyler’s arms and nearly toppled when she tried to walk. He moved forward to catch her, but Tyler was already there.
Christ. Maybe he should just take a few steps back until this sorted out. He backed up and dropped into a nearby chair. There was still the question of who was desecrating Sophie, and that required his attention more than a couple of grown adults who seemed just fine, aside from Christine’s ankle.
Logan wandered over with an oversize to-go cup of Starbucks and took the empty seat next to him, wincing slightly as he settled into the chair.
“Buddy, you’ve been spending too much time behind your fancy desk if a scavenger hunt leaves you sore.” Petty, but he was feeling pretty f*cking petty where Logan was concerned. What was so great about him that made Regan lose her damn mind whenever he showed up?
The worst part was that he knew exactly what a woman like Regan would see in Caine 2.0. He was handsome enough, successful, and polished in a way Brock had never quite managed on his best day.
“Yeah,” Logan said, and shot a look toward Sophie. “It’s like someone kicked my ass and left me for dead.” Sophie blushed and hustled over to the group fussing over Christine.
Holy shit, Logan and Sophie? He’d already fantasized about slugging the guy in his too-pretty face, and now the urge turned tangible…except Logan’s eyes followed Sophie across the room, and there was something in his look beyond conquest or lust. Something unsettled and, well, f*ck it, captured. Yeah, you recognize it because you stared at the same goddamn pathetic look in your mirror this morning.
He pushed that thought out of his head, and put the impulse to do bodily harm on hold. Frankly, Logan falling for Sophie would simplify things for him. If he’d figured out the dynamics between those two this easily, it wouldn’t be long before Regan learned the score, and then she could back the f*ck off Logan’s jock, thus clearing the way for him.
But if Logan broke Sophie’s heart, or gave her a moment’s trouble, Brock would gladly deliver the next ass-kicking, and Golden Boy would be sipping his Starbucks through a straw.
Julie spoke up, pulling him from his violent musings. “We’re going to need flats for all the bridesmaids. We can’t have Christine being the odd one out. Preferably silver to match the dresses.” She looked around. “Where’s Regan? I need my shopping expert.”
Brock was moving before he made a conscious decision to. He stepped forward, putting himself in her path. It was the surest way to get her attention, and if he’d learned anything from being around Julie, it was that once she got moving, it’d take a brick wall to slow her down. “I’ll find her. Silver shoes. Got it. Anything else?”
“N-no. Thank you, Brock.” She patted him on the shoulder and gave him a smile that was so bright it nearly singed his eyeballs. “Bless your heart. I’m sure Regan can figure out sizes.”
Southern women. Sweet as pie until they’re pissed, then it’s all shotguns and setting shit on fire.
“What’s her room number, darlin’?”
She rattled it off, and then she was moving again, turning back to Christine. That was all the dismissal he needed. Doing his damnedest not to examine his motivation too closely, he strode to the elevators and took one up to Regan’s floor. No doubt she’d be asleep at this hour, and with good reason. No one in their right minds got up with the sun when they didn’t have to.
Except when he knocked on her door, she answered it fully clothed and covered in sweat. Apparently she’d taken another trip to the gym. Regan frowned when her gaze landed on him. “If I didn’t make myself clear yesterday—”
“Tyler and Christine spent the night in the woods.”
“I know. I was on my way down to help find them.”
“Don’t worry, they’re back and they’re fine.” He waved that away. “The long and short of it is that Julie sent me to ask you to buy bridesmaids’ shoes in silver. And flat.”
She rubbed a hand over her face. “Shopping. I can do shopping. I need to shower and eat something—no stores will be open for a few hours anyway.”