“I wouldn’t do anything different, but…I might have been kind of an ass about it.” She lifted the beer again. “So, like I said, peace offering if you’re willing to accept it. Colton said you like this shit.”
There was the Regan he knew and had come to depend on seeing. He was so goddamn glad she was here. Brock finally let his smile break through. “Can’t call a classic ‘shit.’ It’s not done.”
“I can and I will. But it’s totally up to you if you enjoy drinking beer out of a can.” She shuddered.
He moved to his bed and patted the spot next to him. “So I take this to mean you’re not going to run away again.” Into Logan’s arms. It was almost too good to believe it was true. He kept expecting her to tense up, throw herself at him, and flee again.
“I prefer the term tactical retreat.”
“I reckon you do.” He grinned as she sank down next to him. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way… Want a beer? This gorgeous woman just brought me some in one of the best apology gifts I’ve ever gotten.” One of the only apology gifts he’d ever gotten.
“Sure.” She gave him a surprisingly tentative smile. “I could go for a beer.”
He opened two cans and handed her one, and then they just sat there, staring at each other. In the short time he’d known her, there hadn’t been anything about their interactions that was awkward, but now that they both seemed to recognize this peace between them, he didn’t know what the hell to say that wouldn’t damage it. All he had to do was remind himself that she was sitting next to him, so obviously she must prefer him. Right?
He wanted to ask her about Logan, but that was a surefire way to shoot this thing in the foot. So he went with a less dangerous topic. “Tell me about your family.”
“Not much to tell. Only child, and pretty okay with it. My parents both worked their way up from nothing, and they’ve busted their asses to create the life they have now. I guess I learned my work ethic from them—if you want something, get your ass in gear and get it. If you wait for miracles to happen, you’ll still be in the same spot ten years after you start.”
He could see that reflected in how she carried herself now. Regan wasn’t the type of woman to sit back and wait for opportunity to come knocking. It was one of the many things he liked about her. “Attending college must have been a strain on the budget.”
“It was.” She shrugged, though she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Even saving for eighteen years, they barely had enough to pay for a year’s worth of tuition. I got scholarships, but those only go so far, too.” Another shrug. “So I worked.”
He couldn’t begin to imagine the dedication it took to pull off what she did. “You’re amazing.”
“Hardly. I just make a plan and follow it. It’s a system that’s gotten me through workloads that have sent other people into full-on breakdowns. And I avoid distractions.”
It all made sense now. Her insistence on Logan being the kind of man for her. She had taken one look at Brock and seen him as nothing more than a distraction. The kind that would have been crippling to her handling the workload she must have.
But she was here, with him, instead of off chasing Logan around the property. That spoke volumes. “Enough about me. What about your family?”
He really didn’t want to go into his family, but it was only fair. Brock took a long pull of his beer. “I have an older brother.”
Regan’s eyes widened. “There’re some serious undertones going on right now.”
“Caine was always perfect growing up, and age didn’t do a damn thing to alter that.” He couldn’t figure out why he was telling her this when he didn’t talk to anyone about his family shit, but it felt good to get it off his chest. “That’s something else you got wrong, you know. I’m not the favored son.”
She was quiet for a long moment, but he could practically see her mind racing as she connected the dots and drew new conclusions. “You know, Julie had a sister who died a few years ago. To this day, her parents constantly compare her in an unfair way.”
It was something he reckoned he understood all too well. Even if Caine were gone—God forbid—he would never be the son his father wanted. “I know the feeling.”
“I know it doesn’t mean a whole lot, but I’m sorry.”
Strangely enough, it did mean something. “It’s no big deal. Caine walks on water in my dad’s eyes. Hard to compare to that.”
“What’s so great about your brother?”
“He’s ambitious and smart and his dream has always been to take over the family business.” He made a face. “He’s a lot like your Logan.”
“Logan is hardly my anything.” She settled back on the bed and took a sip of her beer. “Good God, this is horrible.”
“Everyone’s a critic.” He laughed at the look on her face. “I can call up for some wine if you want?”
“No, that’s okay. I probably shouldn’t be getting drunk the night before Kady’s wedding. Besides, that’s not why I’m here.”
Finally. The answer to the question that had been plaguing him since she showed up at his door. Brock drank the rest of his beer and set it aside. “So why are you here?”
She put the beer on the nightstand and tucked her feet under her, looking for all the world like she was bracing herself to deliver some bad news. Maybe that was why it took him a full ten seconds to process the next words out of her mouth. “Okay, so here’s the deal—I like you. A lot. Probably more than I should.”
It shouldn’t have been surprising considering all the evidence to support just that, but Brock couldn’t help the shock ricocheting through him. He’d been prepared to fight tooth and nail to get her to admit what she’d just spit out. And she sat there, her shoulders slightly hunched, as if she expected him to slap her down. He couldn’t have done that, even if he wanted to, so he told her the truth. “I like you, too.”
“I don’t think this you-and-me thing will work past this week. Even if we didn’t live a couple thousand miles from each other, we come from different worlds. And how cliché is that?” When he opened his mouth to protest, she held up a hand. “But, like I said, I like you too much to walk away. So I’m willing to stop fighting it and see what happens.”
If Regan put half the effort into building something with him that she had pursuing Logan, he didn’t see how anything could go wrong. He wasn’t about to say that, though. Because the truth was, not fighting something and working for it were two different things. Which meant he had a little over twenty-four hours to convince her to give this a real shot. “I’d like that.”
“Good.” She still looked a little wide around the eyes, and she hadn’t let go of the death grip on her arms. All signs pointed toward her being half a second away from bolting again.
He wouldn’t give her the excuse. Moving slowly, he hooked her around the waist and pulled her into his lap. She went tense for a breath and then relaxed into him. Brock pr
opped his chin on the top of her head. “Want to know something, peaches?”
She laughed. “Like why a Tennessee boy is calling me peaches? Shouldn’t that be reserved for Georgians?”
“I reckon you fit the description.” He shifted her so that she was straddling him. It created a little distance between them, but he couldn’t fault it when it gave him the opportunity to look his fill. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of just looking at her.
She licked her lips. “How’s that?”
A thousand corny answers flew threw his mind, but he didn’t give voice to a single one. “You ever hear the saying ‘sweet as a Georgia peach’?”
“That’s not a thing.”
“Sure it is.” He dropped a kiss on her lips, and then each corner of her mouth. “And you, Regan, are fucking sweet.”
She sighed as he kissed her again, taking his time in tasting her. He delved into her mouth, sliding his tongue along hers before he withdrew and nipped her bottom lip. “Want to know something else?”
Her laugh was a little breathy. “Why not?”
“I finally have you in my bed.” He untied the front of her dress, letting the fabric slide over his fingers as he pulled the knot free. “I fully plan on taking advantage of it.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Most definitely.” He parted the fabric and slipped his hands inside, against her skin. He forgot, sometimes, that she was so small. The force of her personality seemed to fill up a room, and yet his hands felt huge against her hips. He nudged the straps off her shoulders and down her arms, loving the goose bumps that rose in the wake of his touch.
When she leaned in, he stopped her. “Ah ah, not yet. You’ve had your way with me twice now. Turnabout is fair play.”
She huffed, but the blush that stole along her chest gave her away. She liked this. He finished taking off the dress and dropped it on the side of the bed. The bra she wore seemed designed to offer her breasts up to him, the pink lace cups shading her nipples more than covering them. The black panties didn’t match, but he liked the contrast.