“Don’t you have enough to keep you busy with one grandkid and another on the way?”
“Consider me the constant gardener. I expect all my seedlings to bear fruit. Besides, Trevor and Kylie had Max. The ultrasounds suggest Michael and Chloe are expecting Cameron rather than Kate. Boys are wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve already raised three of them. I want a girl! So forgive me for getting right down to it, but is Sophie amazing enough to convince you to make some changes and admit there’s a life beyond Defy Gravity?”
He dodged the question because he wasn’t ready to discuss the answer. “All of my friends and family invested in Defy Gravity. I can’t just ignore it and go chase after every new interest I have.”
“We’ve all seen plenty of return on our investment. Plus I have a really nice Defy Gravity parka to keep me warm when your father and I go to Big Bear. I’m happy. I’m proud. And I’m confident in your ability to find the right people to help you manage the business. You don’t owe anybody anything…except your mother, whom you owe a granddaughter.”
“I appreciate the confidence, but as for the rest, you’re getting way ahead of yourself. All I’m planning to do at the moment is attend a dance lesson.”
“You already know how to dance. I spent good money on less
ons.”
His mom had coerced him into taking cotillion in exchange for rock-climbing lessons at the local Y when he was a kid. He’d bite his tongue off before he’d admit it, but the truth was those “stupid dance lessons” had come in handy over the years.
“Thanks for the lessons. Now it’s time for me to put them to use. Love you, Mom. Same to Dad. I’ve gotta—”
“If you really want to thank me, you’ll put them to good use and give me another daughter-in-law.”
“Good-bye, Mom.”
“Say hi to Sophie for me—”
He disconnected, stifling a smile. Maybe he would say hi from his mom, just to watch Sophie’s cheeks go pink at the idea of being a topic of conversation. Just as he reached for the banquet room door, it swung open and Colt stepped through.
“Hey. You’re bailing on the dance lessons and hitting the bar? Isn’t that bad form for the groom?”
“Har-har.” Colt shook his head. “I’ll be back. Kady had a bunch of notes for Julie and she left them in the room. I’m running up to get them for her. This may or may not include a quick stop at the minibar. I neither confirm nor deny.”
“Scotch.” Logan held up two fingers, and then slapped Colt on the shoulder. “Go fetch those notes, honey. Is Sophie already inside? I spoke to her earlier today and I told her I’d meet her in there.” He gestured toward the door.
Colt smiled and nodded. “She is. Thanks for staying on top of her. I owe you.”
Guilt dropped into the pit of his stomach like a cold, hard stone. If Colt knew how “on top” of Sophie he’d been, the only thing his best friend would owe him was an ass-kicking. “You don’t owe me anything. Honestly. Don’t give it another thought.”
“I know damn well if it wasn’t for you riding her ass, she would have skipped the party at Spago, and the scavenger hunt. Hell, Kady ran into Sophie at the shops this afternoon and heard you guys scaled the rock wall earlier today. You’ve done more than just make sure she participates—you’ve gone to the trouble of showing her a good time. I seriously appreciate it.” Colt grinned, stepped away, and pointed at Logan in a way that automatically made Logan think of a gun—and how proficient his friend was with one. “You’re the best, man,” Colt added as he turned and walked off in the direction of the elevators.
Logan ran a hand over his face, surprised to discover he wasn’t drenched in sweat. He was in some tricky shit here, and a smart man would proceed with extreme caution if he didn’t want to lose a friend, and the most amazing woman to cross his path in forever. And all his self-respect, while he was at it. Unfortunately, the warning didn’t stop his eyes from automatically scanning the ballroom for Sophie as soon as he opened the door.
He didn’t spot her. Guests were milling around chatting, a few couples were already dancing. He saw Brock across the ballroom, kicked back in a chair, looking like a guy who might have a flask tucked into a pocket. Valid secondary objective, he decided, and started toward the other groomsman.
He’d barely taken a step when Regan sauntered over, sleek and graceful as a panther, and smiled up at him. “I believe we’re partners.”
Were they? He had no clue how tonight’s dance lesson was supposed to work. Frankly, he hadn’t counted on sticking around long enough to find out—which didn’t sound much like best man behavior. Try to get with the program.
He mustered up a smile, said, “That we are,” and guided her into the dance floor while scanning the room for Sophie. As usual, Regan looked like she’d stepped off the cover of a magazine—all calculated perfection, but undeniably eye-catching. He knew these kinds of women. He worked with them. Admired them. From time to time even slept with them. But tonight, Regan’s carefully tousled waves made him imagine Sophie’s dark, silky hair tumbled over his chest in beautiful disarray as she kissed her way down his body. Regan’s glossy, painted mouth filled him with a hunger for the taste and texture of Sophie’s full, pink, utterly naked lips.
The woman in his arms presented the world with a shiny, chip-resistant shell, but he recognized a veneer when he saw one. He’d stared at his own often enough to know. Sophie didn’t have the veneer. She was brave or honest enough to put her true self out there, vulnerabilities and all, which probably accounted for why she preferred the company of people she knew and trusted. He wanted—needed—to be one of those people.
He moved Regan around the dance floor on autopilot, all the while searching for Sophie.
Tonight’s instructor—some fussy guy with a fake French accent—swept up and “corrected” their stance, but Logan barely noticed the man’s coaching because he finally spotted Sophie across the dance floor. He nearly tripped over his own two feet at the sight of her. She wore a short, sexy red dress that showed off every mouthwatering line of her body. A body Brock currently had plastered against his under the guise of dancing with her.
Oh, hell no. Country Boy had better back off or…shit, Regan was talking to him.
“So, Kady tells me you own your own business? That’s very impressive.”
After the day he’d had, his business was about the least engaging topic imaginable, but he plastered on his company smile and gave her his attention. She was trying to be social. The least he could do was make the same effort. After a few minutes of chitchat, he’d excuse himself and go cut the fuck in on Country Boy.