She had no idea. Regan forced a smile into her voice. “I bet.”
“I know, I know, you don’t share until you have a deal in the bag.” Addison paused. “Unless this is personal?”
“Addison, you know better.” She hated not telling her friend what was going on, but Addison was a firm believer in soul mates. She’d made it her personal goal in life to make sure everyone she came in contact with found theirs. If she knew Regan was having such conflicting feelings over Brock, she’d be on the first plane out here to meddle.
“You’re right. I just hope you’re managing to have some sort of fun out there.”
She thought about what she’d been doing in Brock’s truck earlier and tried to ignore the heat spreading over her chest and up her neck. “I’m doing just fine.”
“Good! We need to get together when you’re finally back in town. It’s been too long.”
“We will, I promise.”
“I’m holding you to that. Have fun!” She hung up, leaving Regan once again alone with her thoughts. She looked at her computer one last time before making a decision and turning away. She’d read whatever Addison dug up later. There was plenty of time to insinuate herself with Logan without running the risk of being late for the damn dancing lessons.
She slipped on her red Come-Fuck-Me shoes and the memory of Brock’s words rolled through her. I can’t stop obsessing about your damn shoes. Shit. She almost changed them, but every single pair she owned screamed sex. What was wrong with that? She’d bought them because they made her feel sexy and powerful, and some days she just needed that. It wasn’t her fault he loved them, too.
She grabbed the shoe boxes and made her way down to the ballroom where the reception would be held tomorrow. Everyone was already there, including Brock and Logan.
She couldn’t help but compare them. Logan was so wonderfully clean-cut with his short hair and button-up shirt and slacks. He was the kind of man as at home in a corporate meeting as he was in a situation like this. And those shoulders sure filled out a suit. Damn.
Brock… Brock looked like he’d just rolled out of bed after a day spent fucking. His hair was still mussed from her fingers, and he looked as if he hadn’t a care in the world. And why would he? He knew his place and he was content to stay there.
Pointedly not looking at him, she walked up to Logan, putting a little extra swing in her hips. He smiled down at her, and she gave him a winning smile of her own. “I believe we’re partners.”
“That we are.”
The dance instructor—a French guy Kady had found somewhere—moved from couple to couple, rearranging hands and body placement. He reached them and gave a murmur of approval. “Very, very nice. Good height difference. Come now, you must touch ze beautiful woman. Seduce her with your dance. Yes, yes, like this.” He nudged Logan’s hand from the polite placement on her side lower to her hip, and then pushed her a little closer. “Now, waltz.”
She’d never danced outside of a bar, but apparently Logan had at some point, because he effortlessly led her around the floor. Wow, the guy had some moves. But he kept looking over her head and frowning at something, so she made an effort to get the conversational ball rolling. “So, Kady tells me you own your own business? That’s very impressive.”
“Says the successful headhunter.” He grinned. “You looking to poach one of my executives?”
She answered with a smile of her own as he spun them. So, he’d been checking up on her. That was promising. “If I were, I wouldn’t tell you. That said, I don’t know near enough about your company.”
“Professional curiosity, of course?”
Hardly. But she couldn’t out and say that she was trying to get him to talk about himself so she could find some common ground. “Maybe I’m considering taking up mountain climbing.” Not freaking likely.
“In that case, let’s skip the business talk and get right to the good stuff.”
“Yes, let’s.” The good stuff. That was exactly what she wanted… Right up until Logan started going off on the best place to take climbing lessons and all the different things she had to take into consideration before she ever left the building, let alone without an experienced climbing partner.
As they circled the room, her cheeks started to hurt from the smile she kept faking. It was made all the worse by the brightness in his eyes and the enthusiastic way he went on and on and on. Holy shit, this guy was really into the outdoors.
They spun again and she caught sight of Brock with Sophie. Regan’s eyes nearly popped out of her head at the red dress the woman was wearing. It was a knockout, and it revealed the rocking figure she’d commented on in the gym earlier. Brock held her in his arms, and he had a look of such utter concentration on his face that she wanted to march across the room and slap him.
It wasn’t fair and it didn’t make any sense, but she hated Sophie Brooks a little bit in that moment.
“But this is all theory until you get up on the wall.” Logan laughed. “I don’t know much about what gyms are the best in New York, but if you ever end up on my side of the States, I’ll take you up.”
This was the offer she’d been waiting for, but Regan couldn’t work up much enthusiasm. She didn’t want to be climbing a wall—she wanted to be climbing Logan. Though to be honest, right now she didn’t even want that.
No, the only man she wanted to climb was whirling around the room with another woman in his arms.
…
Brock could barely focus on interrogating Sophie when he was so distracted by the way Regan beamed up at Logan. And why shouldn’t she be fucking beaming? Being wrapped up in Logan’s arms was what she’d spent the last few days working toward. She was exactly where she wanted to be.
“You’re going to need dental work if you don’t stop gritting your teeth like that. Not to mention the tension migraines.”
He turned his attention back to Sophie, still not really able to believe how she’d shown up dressed to this shindig. The red dress hugged her like a second skin, showing off a body he might have looked twice at if it wasn’t attached to Colton’s baby sister. “Are you sleeping with someone from the wedding party?” He wanted to hear her say it—to confirm his suspicions about Logan.
She made a choked noise. “Brock Christopher McNeill, I know you did not just ask me that.” But her eyes made a quick, involuntary detour over to Logan and Regan, and snapped back brimming with the same dark, edgy emotions that swirled inside him.
Holy shit, he really was right in his suspicions. “Don’t try that middle name bullshit. You know damn well that only works when my mother does it.” He leaned in. “You know, Sophie, I’m not a stupid man.”
“C
ould have fooled me,” she muttered.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?”
“You know exactly why. You define the word underachiever, which is fine. It’s just what you do, even if you are wasting your potential.” She cocked her head to the side, the anger leaching out of her voice. “How’d I do? I think I embodied your dad pretty well.”
Some of the tightness in his chest evaporated. She’d just been joking. That wasn’t what she really thought of him. “He’s a bastard.”
“And he’s never seen you for what you are. His loss.” She sent another turbulent look over his shoulder and muttered, “A lot of people are losing tonight.”
“Don’t think for a second that you’ve distracted me. I want to know what’s going on with you. You show up to find Christine and Tyler looking like you’ve been rolling around in the sheets, and now this dress.”
She looked down. “What’s wrong with this dress?”
He bit back a sharp reply. In all the years he’d known her, she’d never taken much interest in prettying herself up. Which she didn’t need to—he’d always thought she was cute in a little-sibling kind of way. But he really would be a bastard if he cut her down right now. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s a stunner.”
“Liar.”
“You know better than to call me that.” He spun her out and pulled her back into his arms. “What’s his name?” Would she come out and say it? Sophie had a stubborn streak a mile wide, but he wanted—needed—something to distract himself from the sound of Regan’s voice somewhere behind him.
“So you can run to my brother and tattle?”
“Hell no. I’ll take care of this one myself.” He leaned down. “Though I might bring Reed into it.”
Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”
“Again, you know better.” He started to go in for the kill, but Regan’s laugh rang through the hall. Brock looked over in time to see her go up onto her tiptoes and kiss Logan’s cheek. His stomach dropped out, and for a second, he thought he might be physically sick. The moment passed, but the feeling remained. Beside him, Sophie hissed like an angry kitten.