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Christine shifted in her seat. Regan didn’t know about her and Tyler. No one did. It was their dirty little secret. So what was Regan hinting at? Christine smiled. “It was fine. Why wouldn’t it be? We barely know each other.”

That much was true. They just knew what each other looked like naked, is all.

“You tell me,” Regan said, watching Christine too closely. “Every time someone mentions him, you tend to zone out and pretend he’s not real. Now that you’ve seen him, you’re acting like a space cadet. Something’s going on.”

“My distraction has nothing to do with him.” Christine forced a smile. “I’m just tired.”

“I know a good remedy for tired,” Regan said, using air quotes around the word “tired.” “Want me to share it?”

“Does it involve a hot man and a bed?” Christine asked, biting down on the corner of her lower lip to keep from laughing, since she knew it almost certainly did. “Because that’s totally on my list.”

“Ah, yes. The sexy list of ‘things to do while unemployed.’”

“I’m not unemployed,” Christine whispered, peeking at Kady. “I just didn’t start my new job yet. Thanks for the help, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” Regan said, waving away the fact that she’d helped Christine get her new job. “Back to the fun stuff…let’s talk about the party train you have planned. It’s about time you started living life instead of reading about it.” Regan leaned closer, her expensive perfume wafting over. “But as far as my earlier remedy goes? The bed’s optional.”

Christine laughed. “I’ll make a side note on my list.”

Julie came back in the room leading a wide-eyed woman by the arm who looked a lot like Colt, Kady’s soon-to-be husband. She had to be his little sister, Sophie. She carried herself with the same determined manner, and squared her jaw in the exact same way Colt did when he was dead set on winning an argument. But Christine saw the way her eyes flitted about the room and recognized the signs all too easily.

Sophie was nervous as hell.

“Hello, I’m Christine,” she said, smiling and reaching out to squeeze the other woman’s hand. “Your brother told me so much about you.”

Sophie smiled shyly. “Don’t believe everything you hear from him.”

“Honey? I’m a journalist. I fact-check everything,” Christine said with a wink.

Kady looked past Christine toward the entrance, let out a little squeal, and took off. If she was excited, it meant the men were here. If the men were here…

Tyler was behind her.

Had he been angry when he returned and found her gone? Or had he been relieved not to have to act all compassionate toward a woman he would rather not deal with?

Lifting her glass, she chugged the rest of her champagne. She wouldn’t turn around and check him out. She wouldn’t take a look at all the things she’d been remembering since she crashed into him, like how huge his biceps had felt. Or how soft his hair had been. Or how her stomach had tightened when her breasts had brushed his chest and—

Argh. She was doing it again. Thinking about him.

Time to stop. Maybe she should cross something off her sex list tonight. Find a stranger to make out with. That shouldn’t be too hard…but it wouldn’t happen if Tyler was in the same room. She’d be too busy trying not to look at him.

Regan leaned forward in her seat. “All right, tell me about these groomsmen so I can decide which lucky one gets to see me naked.”

Christine stiffened. Not Tyler. Not Tyler.

Just because she didn’t want him and he didn’t want her didn’t mean she wanted him with someone else. Yeah, super logical. But it didn’t matter if the logic didn’t make sense. She didn’t want to watch him hanging all over someone else, like, ever.

He could become a priest or something. That wasn’t asking too much.

When it came to men, Regan was everything that Christine wasn’t. Confident. Assertive. Fearless. Christine had no problem asserting herself professionally, or channeling confidence and bravery when necessary to get the story, because when it came to the job, she always knew what she was doing.

Personally? Yeah. Not so much. But hey, at least she was aware of her faults. She also spent way too much time playing Flappy Bird, loved all things Kardashian, and thought man had never actually walked on the moon. Oh, and she drooled when she was drunk, too. Apparently, she could add selfishly not wanting to see Tyler happy with anyone else, even though she didn’t want him, to that list.

She could live with that.

“So, who wants to bag a groomsman with me?” Regan asked. “Don’t leave me in this alone.”

“I’m in,” Julie blurted. Christine shot her a surprised look. Of all people, she hadn’t expected Julie to jump in on the idea. Julie prided herself on being the quintessential Southern lady—not the type for a one-night stand. “We’re on vacation, right? I want to be seen naked, too.”

So did Christine. But it wouldn’t be with a groomsman, thank you very much.

As Julie and Regan sparred back and forth about the best man to pick, Christine tightened her fists in her lap, opening and closing them reflexively. She wouldn’t look. She would not look. Not until she was good and ready.

She scratched her head and without even realizing her intention…she did one of those “not looking” things where you peek over your shoulder nonchalantly as if you’re just curious about your surroundings and not looking for someone.

And she, of freaking course, looked straight at Tyler.

When she glanced back, her gaze latched onto Tyler’s within seconds. Oh my God, had he been watching her? As soon as their eyes locked, he winked at her. Hot damn, he looked good. Way too good. He wore the same suit he’d had on earlier, but if anything he looked even hotter. More irresistible than ever.

Same brown hair. Same green eyes. Same devastating effect on her senses.

She turned around, her pulse leaping at the eye contact. Holy crap. She was so screwed…and not in the literal sense. Why had she looked? More importantly, why had she glanced away like a scared little rabbit when she had? She wasn’t supposed to be nervous.

Bold. Confident. Free.

That was her.

She peeked over her shoulder again. He still watched her with a heat level in his eyes that made her toes curl in her red stilettos and her breath whoosh out of her lungs. This time, she didn’t back down. She held his gaze for so long she couldn’t believe her heart didn’t jump out of her chest like in those cartoons.

And this time? He broke the gaze first.

But the way he’d looked at her? Oh my God. It made her want.

“Looks like Julie’s made her pick.” Regan said while filling up her glass. “You sure about that one? He is tall, troubled, and dangerously sexy. Not your usual type.” She paused. “Although maybe he’s exactly what you need.”

Forcing her attention back to the girls, Christine ignored the urge to look at him again. Tyler’s name had come into play again as a potential target. This was ridiculous. What was even more ridiculous? She wanted to publicly claim Tyler just so no one else would. “I agree. He’s definitely the one you should pick, Julie. So that’s settled, right? I vote for a topic change.”

Regan and Julie exchanged glances. “No. It’s not settled,” Julie said as her gaze moved over the men. She lingered on a smiling black-haired man with an athletic build. “That one. Logan. Best man, so he’s obviously trustworthy. I’ll take him.” Colton’s sister, Sophie, choked on her sip of champagne. Julie reached over and patted her on the back. “All right, darlin’?”

“Never better.”

Regan nodded. “Driven, successful, total package. I can see why you’d want to go there. Wish I’d called dibs first, actually.”

“You guys aren’t really picking out conquests, right?” Christine asked, her mind still locked on the idea of claiming Tyler. “Can’t we just have a fun, relaxing girls’ weekend?”

“If

you had the equipment, I’d consider it.” Regan waggled her eyebrows as she sipped her drink, then took in the men one more time. “All right, I’m staying away from Mister Danger.”

Christine easily located the groomsman Regan commented on. He glowered off into the distance, looking as approachable as an angry rattlesnake.

“Julie’s got her sights set on the best man.”

Ah, yes, the one who looked as if he belonged on a yacht or something else equally expensive.


Tags: Diane Alberts Erotic