Seducing the Bridesmaid

She slowed to a walk and then stopped altogether. After wiping the sweat off her face, she headed out. A shower and a full-on primp was on the books, so she’d need all the time she could spare.

When the elevator opened on the floor below hers, she almost cursed aloud—she wasn’t the vainest creature on this planet, but if you walked out of the gym looking pretty, you were wasting your time there. She hadn’t planned on giving anyone a good look at her sweaty self.

Obviously she should have taken the stairs.

Then Logan stepped into the elevator and she wanted to curse even more. This was not the impression she’d planned on making when she said she was going to catch his eye. Frustrated, she pasted a smile on her face. “Logan. Fancy meeting you here.”

He frowned for half a second, as if he didn’t recognize her. Then his hazel eyes widened. “Regan. Nice to see you. Going down?”

Only last night on Brock. She looked away, wishing she could banish memories of him as quickly as they popped into her head. “Nope. Up.” She took in his rumpled clothing—the same clothing he’d been wearing last night. “You look like you’ve been getting into some trouble.”

“Nothing like that.” His smile was nice, though she couldn’t help comparing it to a certain Southern boy’s. “I was up late working.”

Well, hell. She had to admire a man who had that kind of commitment to his business. Working late nights was the name of the game for most of her week—the Chinese takeout down the street from her apartment knew her by name and order before she even opened her mouth.

What had Logan been working on? She started to ask, but the elevator dinged again, opening on her floor. “This is my stop.”

“It was nice talking to you.”

She backed through the doors. “Maybe we can talk more during the scavenger hunt.”

“That’d be great.”

As the doors shut, she sagged against the wall. So much for leaving him wanting more. She should have taken off her tank top before she left the gym so she didn’t look like something an alley cat dragged in. Then at least he would have been distracted with all the skin she’d have been showing and ignored the rest of her. Even as she considered it, she wondered what the hell she was stressing about? As she walked into her room, Regan yanked out her ponytail holder with more force than strictly necessary.

She wasn’t a precious little princess who dressed up so men would tell her she was pretty and fall at her feet. She wore the clothing she did for her, and because it was just another kind of armor. Like it or not, people judged her on the way she dressed, and failing to look professional could cost her a client.

If seeing her in some sweaty gym clothes was enough to make Logan blow her off, then he was an idiot.

Still… No reason to give him another reason to think twice.

She dug through her suitcase, coming up with a dress she’d bought a few weeks ago that hugged every curve. The texturing changed it from skanky to sexy, but it didn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination. Combine it with a killer pair of heels and Logan would have to be dead not to sit up and take notice of her.

…

Running into Reed didn’t do a damn bit for Brock’s mood. He’d wanted some time alone to stew about what happened last night, to finally put it out of his head. It had been obvious when he saw his friend leaning against the side of the building that he had something on his mind. They weren’t the types to pour out their hearts, but a man wore a certain look on his face when dealing with woman problems.

Low and behold, he’d been as snarly as Brock had ever seen him. “Told you she was trouble.”

Yeah, he had. And Brock had ignored the underlying advice to steer clear of her before, and he was going to keep doing it. “Trouble is a significant underestimation.”

Reed glanced at him in surprise. “Did you swallow a dictionary last night?”

Christ. “I can use words longer than one syllable when I put my mind to it. When did everyone start thinking the opposite?”

“You mean, when did you start giving a shit?”

“That, too.”

Reed shrugged. “Maybe it’s the altitude.”

“Altitude indeed.” He wished he could blame last night on something so simple, but it’d be a dirty lie. He’d been on the losing side as soon as he followed Regan out of the bar. “Any man with half a brain would give that woman and her fool heels a wide berth.”

“I’ve never known you to shy away from a challenge. Hell, you jumped off that cliff at the rock quarry when we were thirteen even when Colton refused to.”

“This isn’t a challenge. This is impossible.”

Reed snorted. “Is that really going to be enough to stop you?”

Of course he’d say that. Growing up, he’d always been the reckless one, the one who made the questionable choices and the first to jump into any situation. Through it all, Brock had been hot on his heels. Reed and Colton were a staple of his childhood, the two kids who had never expected him to magically transform into a clone of his older brother. Every time he’d had a blowup with his parents, they’d been there to take his mind off things.

And Reed…he had his own cross to bear. Even if Brock had been in danger of forgetting that, all it would take was a quick step to that hot night when they were twelve, and he had sneaked out to recruit Reed for some prank or other. What he’d seen when he got to Reed’s house had changed the course of his entire life.

Brock rubbed a hand over his face. He’d never told Reed about the company he formed five years ago—or why—and today wasn’t going to be the day he came clean. Today was about figuring out what the hell he was going to do about Regan. “She’s a damned force of nature.”

“And you’re not?”

“Well, hell, when you put it that way.”

“You’re just looking for a reason to chase her. You don’t need one. Get chasing.”

Brock grinned, thinking back to Regan’s dog reference last night. “Wuff.”

“That’s more like it.”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s getting to be that time.” As much as he wasn’t looking forward to the scavenger hunt, he wouldn’t miss the chance to see little miss city girl wandering around in the woods. Anything that put that woman off her game was a good thing in his book.

“Go on ahead. I don’t need a babysitter.”

He never had. Reed might have made some fucked-up choices a few years ago, but it was the wake-up call he’d needed to get his life together. He still wasn’t the poster boy for well-adjusted, but Reed had been there for him over the years, even if they hadn’t talked about the reason Brock needed someone to lean on. Colton was gone nine months out of twelve, and while he made their summers full of good times, it was out of sight, out of mind when they were kids. But Reed never left. He was always willing to sneak out and walk aimlessly around town when Brock was feeling trapped by his father’s demands, or to come up with some crazy thing to keep them both distracted from the homes they had to go back to.

Brock knew he was lucky to be born into the family he was, but he constantly felt strangled by his father’s expectations. Weighed down

by the fact that he’d never be Caine. His older brother did everything right, and no matter how hard he tried, he never measured up.

So he’d stopped trying.

Shit, he hadn’t meant to take that little trip down memory lane. Brock decided to take the long way through the grounds to where they were supposed to meet for the scavenger hunt. He needed time to get his game face on, because he had to figure out what the fuck he was going to do about Regan.

Why should he do anything at all? She’d had her fun, and she couldn’t be clearer about not wanting anything to do with him again. Why not stop kicking a dead horse? It would sure as hell make his life a lot simpler.

He rounded the corner to find a group of women gathered. There was the pretty blond cheerleader type who’d caught Reed’s eye, the quiet redhead, Kady with her almost-bride glow…and Regan.

He let himself look his fill, taking in the waves in her hair that had to have taken some serious time to create, the dress that hugged every curve and made him wonder if she were wearing panties underneath, and those damned heels. He’d never cared one way or another for the shit women wore on their feet, but something about her bright-red heels made him picture how she’d look in nothing but them.

Kady said something and Regan shot a panicked look his way. He took the opportunity to grin at her. If anything, she seemed even less pleased. Good. At least he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable here.

As the group dispersed, the little redhead wandered over. She had the distracted look of someone with something serious on her mind. “Hey, Irish, a penny for your thoughts.”

The redhead, Christine, he thought her name was, made a face. “As if I haven’t heard that one before.”