Seducing the Bridesmaid (Wedding Dare, #3)(4)

Brock leaned against the bar, entirely too close. “You seem to have heard a lot.”

“You have no idea.”

“I’d like to.”

Regan took another sip of her drink, only now registering that it was a cosmopolitan. One of her favorites. Obviously he’d been watching her for longer than she’d realized before rushing out to play her knight in Gucci armor. She propped a hip on the bar. “I bet you don’t hear no a lot.”

“It’s a dirty word. I’m not a fan of it.”

Of course not. Though he sure as hell was charming, he was also the last person she wanted to be talking to right now. Damn Logan for disappearing when she would have made her move. Yes, Brock was gorgeous, but from what she could figure out from chatting with Kady, he was content to spend his life riding on his daddy’s coattails. The man was more charm than substance.

“If you’re looking for some company, I know just the man for the job.” He leaned forward, his grin widening. “And he doesn’t have a problem with short screws.”

She just bet he didn’t. She needed to get rid of him. Now. “It just so happens that I’m looking for my friend Christine.” She’d been really quiet since they showed up here yesterday, and teasing aside, Regan was worried about her. Quiet tended to be Christine’s gig, but something had changed. She wasn’t happy. It might be the upcoming move to Maine throwing her off, but Regan didn’t think so.

“The little redhead? I think I saw Kady’s brother follow her out of Spago.”

Tyler? Now that was interesting. Maybe the torch Christine had been carrying for years wasn’t one she was carrying alone.

She shook her head. She couldn’t afford to get distracted with potential pair-ups when Brock was right in front of her, taking too much space. He exerted an almost magnetic pull, so strong it was an effort not to take that last step between them and see if his muscles felt as good as they looked. From the way the women around them were staring, she wasn’t the only one feeling that urge.

That realization shocked her back to herself. He was working her, plain and simple. This man was used to getting what he wanted, and right now he had his sights set on her. She couldn’t afford to get caught up in this.

Could she?

No, that was a bad idea. Regan knew bad ideas. They always started out sounding really reasonable and totally logical and, next thing she knew, she was half a bottle of tequila in and riding a mechanical bull in a miniskirt. Or spending a whole six weeks dating that douche Danny Levitz because he had lickable abs. Or… The list went on and on.

“Come on, darlin’.”

“There will be no coming on anything.”

“Killjoy.”

“Look at you and your fancy words. Your daddy must be so proud.”

Brock’s grin dimmed, but he reclaimed it almost instantly. “A week without is enough to make anyone cranky. I can only imagine what it would make you.”

She gave in to the urge to give his biceps a squeeze. The tense muscles beneath her hand almost made her groan. The man obviously spent an inordinate amount of time in the gym. She could appreciate that, even if the personality it represented was less than impressive. “Why, Scarlett, are you calling me difficult? I seem to remember you making irrational claims about my not being as mean as I acted.” Take that, you arrogant ass.

“God, no. I’m just pointing out that you have a mammoth stick up your ass.” He reached for his drink, effectively removing her hand from his arm. “Since I’m petitioning for saintly status, I’m willing to help you remove it.”

She set the glass down a little harder than necessary. “That’s not a stick, but it only makes sense that someone as rudderless as you wouldn’t recognize ambition if it slapped you in the face.”

He gave her a knowing grin. “Try me. The offer’s still on the table.”

God, was there no dissuading this guy? Normally, this level of dogged determination would be enough for her to dump her cosmo on his head and march out the door. “You want me to tie you up and make you call me Daddy? Maybe a little whips and chains and handcuffs. Why, Scarlett, I am positively shocked.”

He pushed the shot she’d just ordered toward her. “I’m just offering up something you desperately need. Like I said—I’m practically a saint for being willing to shoulder that burden.”

Sleeping with her was a burden. Even knowing he was trying to get a rise out of her, the she-devil on her shoulder made her want to push Brock over the edge and make him beg for mercy. Julie had always said that imaginary little bitch was going to get her into trouble, and Regan was beginning to think she was right.

She took her shot. “You’re really that eager to be ruined.”

“I think you’ll be surprised.” He didn’t touch her, didn’t move to close that last few inches between them, didn’t do a damn thing but lean against the bar and watch her, but her body heated under those dark eyes. He was looking at her like she was a sure thing. It had obviously been too long since she’d blown off some steam, because she was seriously considering taking him up on what he was offering.

There was no way he could live up to his talk. In her experience, the men who talked the most had the most to prove. Even knowing that, it was a fight to stop herself from leaning into him. Taking him up on his offer was a stupid idea, she-devil on her shoulder or not.