Baiting the Maid of Honor (3 page)

group of men, her gaze landing on a smiling black-haired gentleman with a strapping, athletic build.

Based on her painstaking research into the bridal party prior to the wedding, she pegged him as

Colton’s best man, Logan. He possessed an easy charm, unlike the unapproachable vibe brooding

Reed gave off.
Stop thinking about him.
“That one. Logan. Best man, so he’s obviously trustworthy.

I’ll take him.” To her right, Sophie choked on her sip of champagne. Julie reached over and patted her

on the back. “All right, darlin’?”

“Never better.”

Julie started to press, but Regan diverted her attention with an observation of Logan. “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 cheeks flushed. “Can’t

we just have a fun, relaxing girls’ weekend?”

“If you had the equipment, I’d consider it.” Regan sipped her drink, eyes narrowing on the

remaining choices. “All right, I’m staying away from Mister Danger. Julie’s got her sights set on the

best man.” She hummed in her throat. “That leaves me with Kady’s big bro. I’ve always found him to

be the sweet, strong, silent type.”

“I don’t think he’s sweet at all,” Christine snapped, then flushed.

“In that case, I’m
definitely
going with Tyler,” Regan said. “I think he’s got a certain
je ne sais

quoi.
Sophie? You getting in on this?”

Sophie shook her head furiously, short brown bob brushing her chin. “As much as I love a good

dare, count me out. The last thing my brother needs at his wedding is his little sister bagging the best

man…or, I mean, any of his other best friends. Logan is only one option…”

Julie and Regan exchanged a glance.
Alrighty then.
Julie tipped her chin toward the remaining tan,

broad-shouldered man currently laughing loud enough to draw the attention of the entire restaurant.

She did a quick mental tally of the groomsmen. “Brock McNeill. Vice president of his family

business. Based in Nashville.”

Sophie smiled, seeming to relax into her seat. “I haven’t seen Brock in years. Along with Reed, aka

Mister
Danger
, he grew up in Manchester, where Colton and I spent our summers in Tennessee. The

three of them have been friends since I can remember.”

Reed
. The name really did fit him perfectly. Why that bothered her so much, she couldn’t fathom.

When she’d begun gathering information on the bridal party, he’d been the sole question mark; his

name hadn’t even been provided on Kady and Colton’s guest list.
Possible groomsman
. She hadn’t

bothered checking into him. Who decides to join a bridal party at the last minute? “So you must know

an awful lot about them. What are they like?” She fluttered her hands. “Just a little something to help

Regan choose between Tyler and Brock.”
Not because I want to know more about Reed.

Sophie crossed her arms over her middle and spoke hesitantly. “One summer I caught them out by

the lake reading a
Hustler
magazine. Brock likes women with breasts the size of flotation devices.

Reed…harder to tell with him, but he tended toward brunettes.”

Julie set down her glass a little harder than intended. “
Fine
.”

“Fine, what?” Regan asked.

“Fine…make your choice. Bachelor one or two?”

Avoiding Reed’s steady gaze, Julie took a good look at Brock, already knowing Tyler well enough

from her years of friendship with Kady. She tipped her chin toward Brock. “That there, Regan, is a

Southern boy. I don’t even need to hear him say two words. And as my Aunt Sylvie would say,

Southern boys are slicker than pig snot on a radiator.”

Sophie grimaced. “My God. How would pig snot get on a radiator in the first place?”

“I don’t know, but the expression had to originate somewhere.”

Regan nodded. “I think you’re right about Brock. He’s got ‘arrogant playboy’ written all…oh my

God. He’s staring at my boobs!”

Julie saluted with her glass. “Southern boys.”

Christine abruptly pushed her chair back, looking paler than before. “I-I need some air. I can’t

breathe
in here.”

Regan tried to st Christine with a hand on her arm. “How much did you drink?”

“Apparently not enough,” Christine responded. She and Regan had a hushed, heated conversation

before Regan let her go. Christine made a beeline for the exit.

Concerned over her friend’s abrupt departure, Julie stood to go after, but was stayed by Kady’s

sudden reappearance. “Girls, come on over and meet the groomsmen. Hands off the groom himself,

but otherwise it’s open season.”

Chapter Four

Reed watched his little blond pixie shake hands with Logan, the best man he’d met a little over an

hour ago. He’d seemed a decent sort, but Reed suddenly couldn’t stand the sight of him. Not with the

way
she
looked up at him, a flirtatious smile playing at the edges of her lips.
She
, being the one

who’d been putting him through an excruciating round of torture ever since she let him pull her hair

out on the patio, forcing a sexy-as-hell sob from her delicious-looking mouth. Now her smooth, mile-

long legs were on display for every male in the vicinity to ogle and fantasize about. It wasn’t working

for him.

He’d been dreading the idea of this loud party. Making small talk with people he’d likely never see

again once this week ended. He’d even considered heading back to his room and waiting for a less

formal event to make his entrance. The
last
thing he’d expected was a blond bombshell to moan her

way into his head, making him hard as a rock in the process.

She’d run away from him too soon, disappearing before he could ask her…what exactly? If she’d

be willing to hike that dress a little higher and let him see how long those legs went on for? He’d love

to ask her that question. Just to see if she’d give him that same sexy pout she’d intended as a set-down

outside. The one that turned him on like hell instead.

Matter of fact, her dress
did
seem shorter than it had on the patio. Was it his imagination or had she

hiked it up to drive him insane?

If she gave him the slightest encouragement, he’d have sucked that pouty lower lip between his

teeth so he could swallow her next moan. Explain to her in no uncertain terms the effect her legs were

having on him and every man inside the goddamn restaurant, before tugging the dress up over her hips

and giving her a physical demonstration.

Such urgent need for one particular woman was completely unlike him. His outward demeanor

warned off all but a certain type of woman and she did not, in any way, shape, or form, fit that

description. Reed’s tastes tended toward women who could take a little manhandling. Begged for it,

even. Oftentimes, women sensed his overwhelming need for control, struggling to be let loose inside

him, and they approached him first. Being that Reed preferred keeping his conquests impersonal, fast

and hard suited him perfectly. So did never looking back.

This being the case, the fact that he’d felt a flare of panic when she’d run from him didn’t sit well.

He’d actually battled the urge to go after her. His desire to return to his room had ceased to be a

possibility. Instead, he’d rounded the building and entered the Osprey Lounge, already anxious to see

her again. Those gorgeous legs, elegantly crossed, had drawn his eye immediately and he hadn’t

looked away once since then.

With her manicured hand resting on Logan’s forearm, she tossed back her head and laughed,

flawless skin catching the candlelight. His fingers curled into his palm and squeezed. First, when the

hell had he started noticing trivial details like candlelight? Second, she might not be his type, but if

she didn’t stop laughing and flashing those wide blue eyes up at Golden Boy, he was going to carry

her out of the lounge draped over his shoulder kicking and screaming.

It had been a long time since he’d felt his control slipping. He’d left that aspect of his personality

behind him long ago before joining the force in Atlanta. After shedding his hell-raiser image, his

energy had been channeled into work. Nothing riled him. Until her. Hell, he didn’t even know her

name and had only spent a few minutes with her. What the hell was the matter with him?

“Easy now, big boy,” his best friend Brock drawled at his elbow. “There are enough bridesmaids

for each and every one of us poor, wretched souls.” He tipped back his beer, eyes full of humor.

“How would you feel about a midweek swap?”

Reed jerked his chin toward the pixie. “Name.”

“Now, how would I know? We haven’t been here but five minutes.”

He cast a skeptical look at his friend, who rarely entered a room without gathering stats on every

available female.

Brock rolled his eyes. “Julie Piper. Maid of honor. Five foot…six? Hard to tell in those heels. Cute

little peach of a thing, ain’t she?”

Reed grunted. “No swaps.”

“Hell, you’re no fun.” Brock feigned disappointment. “You planning on letting her sweet-talk Logan

all night or you going to make a move?”

Julie’s gaze collided with his before flitting away once more. The simple look had the aftereffect of

a sucker punch to the jaw. “When I’m ready. She’s not going anywhere with him.”

“Is that right? I know a woman with a plan when I see one.” He tipped his beer bottle in Julie’s

direction. “That one’s got a plan.”

Reed’s eyes narrowed on Julie and admitted Brock had a point. She’d started shifting on her feet

like she stood on hot coals. Her fluttery hand gestures were growing more dramatic by the second. As

if on cue, he watched as her hand covered a momentarily distracted Logan’s room key where it sat on

their shared table, and slid it neatly into her purse. Reed’s entire body tensed.

“Told you.”

“It’s not fucking happening.”

Brock checked his watch. “You better work fast. Women with plans wait for no man.”

“Says the expert.”

“Hate to brag.”

Goddammit.
How the hell had he ended up at some ritzy resort wearing loafers, lusting after some

sorority girl? Just this morning, he’d fallen into bed at 3:00 a.m. after his SWAT team, of which he’d

recently been promoted to commander, performed a middle-of-the-night arrest in the College Park

section of Atlanta. He’d been filthy, exhausted, and slightly more jaded than when he’d left the house

that morning. Just the way he liked it. He was here because his best friend was getting married;

otherwise he wouldn’t be within ten feet of this many suits.

He owed Colton. That’s why he was here. Since he didn’t have the ability to articulate how much

the other man’s friendship had meant to him all those years ago, he would grin and bear the endless

parade of hors d’oeuvres and stock market talk.

And come hell or high water, he’d have the girl.

As Reed’s mind began formulating and discarding different ways to keep Julie from her obvious

plan to sneak into Logan’s room later in the evening, apart from threatening Logan with bodily harm

that is, his cop’s sense began picking up on other dramas playing out in the lounge. Tyler, the bride’s

brother, had fallen deathly silent upon walking in, eventually grumbling some excuse to leave. Sophie,

Colton’s little sister, had cast a couple nervous glances toward Logan before slipping out of the

restaurant like a ninja. The best man looked too tired to even notice. That made him feel marginally

better about him rising to the occasion with Julie, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

A flashy brunette entered his line of vision, interrupting his train of thought. She looked almost as

out of place as Reed felt, her expensive clothing and citified demeanor belonging far away from the

mountains of Colorado. When the newcomer smiled up at him, Reed tossed a quick look over her

shoulder and watched Julie tense. Good. She wasn’t as indifferent as she let on.

Reed raised an eyebrow at the brunette. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Regan. You don’t know me but I’m about to become your favorite person in the world,” she

said without disrupting her smile. “Give me your room key.”

“Come again?”

“It’s not for me. Although you should be so lucky.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and held

out her hand. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

Brock, edging in between them, held his hand out toward Regan. “It’s nice to meet you, sweetheart.

I’m Brock.”

“There’s nothing sweet about me,” she responded with a mocking smile, then looked back at Reed.

“You’ve got five seconds. Five…four…”

“Women with plans,” Brock muttered beside him.

Reed reached into his pocket and drew out the key. Eyes narrowed, he dropped it into Regan’s

palm and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t like having orders tossed at him, but he was

curious.