Seducing the Bridesmaid (Wedding Dare, #3)(28)

Which meant it was time for some damage control.

…

Brock felt the change in her body a few seconds before she spoke, and he knew what was coming. It didn’t lessen the sting of her words.

“We should get back.”

It was a setback, and one he should have expected. If he’d learned anything about Regan in this short time together, it was that she didn’t do anything without a plan. He wasn’t part of that plan. It had to scare her to death that she felt something for him. And she did feel something for him. Her earlier declaration wasn’t professing endless love—

He gave himself a mental shake as she climbed off him and rearranged her dress. Who said anything about love? That wasn’t what he wanted… Was it? He pulled his jeans back into place and buttoned them, the question circling his head. He’d never felt a burning desire for a wife or kids or the so-called American Dream.

That was Caine’s gig. He was supposed to be the one to marry some society girl and have a few kids who would eventually carry on the McNeill legacy. Which made him wonder if that’s exactly what Regan had in mind when it came to Logan—marriage and little overachiever babies. She was only f*cking Brock while she bided her time to make a move on Logan.

How the hell had he tricked himself into forgetting about that?

He shook his head. Stupid to lose sight of the endgame. It was on the tip of his tongue to say something to her about Logan and Sophie, but the words turned to dust in his mouth. Winning by default wasn’t his style. He’d just as soon not play. Shit. He felt like he was free-falling totally out of control when it came to this woman. She threw off his game, made him want things he had no business wanting.

It was definitely time to head back to the resort. He put the truck into gear. “Any more stops?”

“Nope.”

“Good.” Great. Less time trapped in this truck with her. They’d been making progress, but Brock hadn’t really thought what that might mean in the long term. If he was smart, he’d stay the hell away from her for the rest of the week. Chalk this up to two adults having a good time and move on with their lives.

As he pulled onto the highway, he recognized it for the lie it was. For better or worse, he couldn’t leave Regan alone. If she told him to f*ck off, then he’d have to respect her wishes, but he was going to do his damnedest to make sure she didn’t want him gone.

He glanced at her, taking in the rigid set of her shoulders and the way she pointedly turned to the passenger window. It wasn’t time to pursue this. He’d give her a little time to recoup—give himself a little time to plan his next approach—and then he’d circle back around.

They pulled into the parking lot of Beaver Creek Resort and both their phones went off. Regan reached hers first, flipped through it, and sighed. “I forgot about the dancing lessons.”

Well, hell, he had, too. “When?”

“An hour.” She reached for her door. “I wouldn’t be late if I were you. Julie will hunt you down and then you’re totally screwed.” Then she was gone, shoe bags in hand, striding across the parking lot.

He turned off the truck and snorted. She’d left her panties behind. Again. Was it on purpose? Brock wouldn’t put it past her. One last f*ck you to him. He scooped them up and shoved them in his pocket.

There was plenty of time to figure out the perfect opportunity to give them back to her.





Chapter Eleven


Regan took extra care with her appearance before the dancing lessons, even though her heart wasn’t in it. She curled her hair, studying herself in the mirror. Perfection. The snag-Logan’s-attention plan was off to a great start—if he didn’t sit up and take notice today, then the man didn’t have a heartbeat. And he had to notice her now. They were four days into this trip and she hadn’t had a single chance to advance her plan because she was so busy with Brock. It was just wrong.

Wasn’t it?

Her own heart gave a dull thud. Her morning with Brock had been good—too good. Even though he hadn’t pressed her on the drive back, she was still too aware of him next to her. She’d wanted nothing more than to slide across the bench seat and tuck herself under his arm. He would have let her, too.

“Stop that right now. You know better.”

She did. Men like him were a distraction. Even if they didn’t mean to be. It wasn’t fair and it might not be nice, but she’d worked too damn hard to get to where she was to be content with someone who coasted through life, who had doors opening to him solely because of the family he’d been born into.

Her phone rang, saving her from more endless mental circling. She practically dived for it, smiling when she saw Addison’s name. “Babycakes, tell me something brilliant.”

She laughed. “You must be really desperate for this info. I did a bit of digging on the two names you gave me. Everything has been emailed to you.”

All the ammunition she needed to give her an edge in getting close to Logan. Too bad she couldn’t bring herself to open her computer and look at it. Later, she promised herself. “Thank you for getting back to me so quickly.”

“I should let you know that I’m considering poaching both those men for my business. They’d be a hit with some ninety percent of my female clients—and a good portion of my male ones, too.”