by Reese Ryan
For a moment, why he’d chosen not to call her escaped him.
Right. Because he didn’t want to be the asshole who broke the heart of America’s volleyball sweetheart.
Being the good guy didn’t always pay off.
Bree tugged her full, lower lip between her teeth as she studied the menu.
Sensory memories of that night in London flooded his brain. The flavor of Bree’s lip gloss. The warm, sweet taste of her mouth. How her body—with its perfect mix of lean muscles and sexy curves—pressed against his. His pulse raced and heat crawled up his neck.
I’m a bloody masochist.
No other way to explain why he’d torture himself by inviting Bree Evans on this trip.
“I’ve heard about this place.” Excitement lit her brown eyes. “It’s supposed to be really good.”
“One of the best around. I come here whenever I’m in town.”
“You’ve been living in London. How often do you get to Raleigh?”
“Whenever I visit my mother, we make it a point to come here at least once.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Truthfully? Not often enough. I usually fly Mom out to visit me. I haven’t been too keen on returning home.”
“Why?” Her intent gaze penetrated him.
He opened his mouth to deliver his usual excuse, that he had been busy, but there was something about Bree. He didn’t want to bullshit her. Still, there was no need to relive his entire life story.
Wes rearranged the salt and pepper shakers. “Running from bad memories, I guess.”
“Sorry.” Bree lowered her gaze. “I shouldn’t have pried. I didn’t mean to dredge up bad memories.”
“No need to apologize. You couldn’t have known.” He forced a smile, hoping to set her mind at ease. “You know, I haven’t thought of New Bern as home in years. I spent most of my life in London and it’s felt like home for the past twenty years, but...”
“But this trip home feels different?” Her wide, brown eyes were like a truth elixir.
Wes nodded. “Yeah. When I first got off that plane last month, it was the first time since I was a kid that I felt some sense of nostalgia. Maybe even a little bit of homesickness.”
“So will you be coming home more often now?”
“Actually, I decided to move back to the US. I’ve always known that one day I wanted to establish my event-and-promo business here.” Wes dropped his gaze from hers. He wouldn’t lie to her, but she wasn’t entitled to know everything about him or his family. “Now feels like the time to do that.”
“Your mother must be happy.”
“Haven’t told her yet. I wanted to wait and see how things worked out with the tournament.”
“You mean whether you could stand to work with me for an entire six months.” She laughed when his eyes widened. “Relax, I’m not offended. I considered backing out, too.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” His gaze held hers. His pulse quickened in response to the slow smile that spread across her face.
“Glad you didn’t, either.” Bree tucked her hair behind her ear. “I think we have the potential to be an incredible team that delivers on everything Liam is hoping for, but that means we need to function like a team. No surprises.”
“Fair enough,” Wes conceded, thankful the server stepped in to take their order.
Once their orders were complete, she checked her email again.
“Everything okay with your sponsor?” Wes sipped his sweet tea. “I couldn’t help overhearing some of your conversation in the car.”
“The usual production drama.” She shrugged, putting her phone on the table. “Seems there’s some sort of drama whenever we roll out a new line. I’ve learned to roll with it. What about you? Seems like you had some business drama of your own.”
“Got a big corporate event coming up. I’ll be there for the event and the days leading up to it, but I’m letting my team take the lead on this one. I’ve been dealing with this client for a while. He’s having a bloody meltdown, as he’s wont to do during these events.”
“But you weren’t speaking to him. You were speaking to a woman.”
“How’d you...?”
“You turn up that Southern-boy charm when you’re speaking to a woman.” The corner of her mouth curved in the sexiest smirk he’d ever seen as she swirled her straw inside her glass. “Even if you’re not attracted to her.”
Wes didn’t acknowledge her assessment as he leaned back against the booth. What she’d said was true, though not something he did intentionally.
“I was talking to my event manager, Nadia. She’s second-in-command. She’s bright and capable, but she’s nervous about taking over the reins.”
“Oh.” She seemed relieved by his answer. “I liked how you handled the conversation. You conveyed your confidence in her in a way that felt warm and genuine. It seemed to calm her down. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I noticed the shift in her tone,” she added when he gave her a puzzled look.
“That charm of yours is dangerously effective.” Bree folded her arms on the table and leaned forward. “Because I still can’t believe you talked me in to this trip.”
“I’m still stunned by that one myself.” Wes chuckled. “But I’m glad you agreed to join me. The trip wouldn’t be nearly as fun solo.”
Bree’s mouth twisted in a reluctant smile. “Now that I’m here, I would think I’ve earned at least a preview of what to expect over this next week.”
“All right.” Wes leaned forward, holding back a grin. “We’re having dinner tonight and we’re going hiking in the morning.”
“But where are we—”
“That’s all I’m giving you.” He held up a hand as the server approached their table with the sampler of appetizers he’d ordered. “I want you to be surprised, especially in Asheville. So you’re going to have to give me a little leeway here.”
Bree opened her mouth to object, but a genuine smile lit her eyes as she turned her attention to the chicken wings, fried green tomatoes and potato fritters.
“I shouldn’t be eating any of this.” She grabbed a saucer and unwrapped her silverware. “But that won’t stop me from sampling every bit of it.”
Wes grinned, reminding himself of all the reasons he shouldn’t be attracted to her. His brain agreed, but his body and heart had gone rogue.
He wanted to spend more time with Bree. To learn everything there was to know about her. He couldn’t stop the visions of her in his bed, calling his name.
Wes sighed softly. Giving himself the keep-it-in-your-pants speech wouldn’t be enough. Brianna Evans had burrowed under his skin and was working her way into his heart.
Chapter 9
Bree stood in front of the mirror in her hotel room and smoothed down her skirt. So maybe the little black dress was sexier than anything she’d normally wear to a business meeting. And maybe she had made a real effort with her makeup tonight.
It wasn’t as if she’d flirted with him.
Okay, maybe she had, but only a little. It was certainly nothing serious.
Her phone rang. It was a video call from Bex. Bree cringed. For a moment, she considered not answering, but that would’ve worried Bex more.
“Hey. You caught me on the way out to dinner.” Bree tried to sound nonchalant.
“Obviously, you’re not going for pizza and a beer down at the pub.” Bex’s expression grew wary, as did her tone. “Let me see what you’re wearing.”
Bree breathed out a long sigh and extended her arm, holding the phone up so Bex could take in the entire outfit—cleavage and all.
“So this is a date.” Bex’s tone had gone from wary to alarmed.
“It isn’t a date.” The objection felt weak, even to Bree. “There’s a restaurant in our hotel,
and it happens to have a dress code.”
“Does that dress code require cleavage? The girls are looking pretty spectacular tonight.”
Bree’s cheeks stung with heat. She smoothed a hand down the clingy, black draped jersey dress. “You’re the one who’s always saying I don’t show off my assets enough.”
“And today is the day you decide to listen?” Bex sucked in a deep breath. “Look, Bree, we both know you really like this guy. Hell, I like the guy. In any other circumstance, I’d tell you to go for it. Have a little fun. But there are three really important things for you to remember. Wes doesn’t want anything serious, you do and this guy is the one standing between us getting what we want out of the tournament. Don’t forget any of that.”
“You think I’m too naive to hold my own with Wes.”
“It isn’t that, and this isn’t me scolding you or saying in any way that you should change who you are. You see the good in everyone and you wear your heart on your sleeve. I love those things about you. It’s why we make such a good team. You balance out my craziness, and I need that.” Bex smiled into the camera. “But for you, nothing is strictly business. I doubt Wes shares your philosophy.”
Bex wasn’t wrong. Bree was playing with fire and she knew it. Still, she was drawn to Wes in a way she couldn’t explain. Like they were meant to be together. If not as lovers, at least as friends.
There was a knock at her hotel-room door. A knot tightened in her belly.
“I have to go.” Bree lowered her voice. “But I’ll remember what you’ve said. Promise.”
“Fine. Have fun.” Bex’s exasperated tone indicated she knew her advice had fallen on deaf ears. “Just be careful. I don’t want to have to come out there and kick his ass.”
“’Bye, Bex.” Bree ended the call and dropped the phone in her clutch. She surveyed herself in the mirror one last time.
This is business. Relax. Have fun.
It was a hollow claim, because the closer she got to the door, the faster her heart beat.
* * *
Bree opened the door. “You’re early.”
“And you...look amazing.” Wes jammed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorway.
“You sound surprised.” There was a nervous lilt to her laughter. “I’d like to think I cleaned up pretty well the night we met.”
“You did, but tonight...” He sucked in a deep breath as he surveyed her from head to toe. “Let’s just say you’ve turned it up a notch.”
Brianna looked stunning in a form-fitting little black dress that was ultra-feminine and incredibly flattering on her body. The draped neckline drew his attention to her full breasts. The bow-tie belt detail highlighted her small waist and the clingy fabric hugged every single curve.
He cleared his throat as he took a cream-colored cashmere cardigan from her and helped her into it.
She tied the sash at her waist, grabbed her bag and stepped into the hall.
Wes followed her to the elevator, his eyes drawn to how the fabric hugged her curvy bottom. He dragged his eyes away and punched the down button for the elevator.
“You’re going to love this restaurant.” Wes stared at the elevator doors rather than looking at her. “And this is one of my favorite places to stay whenever I come here.”
“It’s a beautiful hotel, and it’s right across the street from the Biltmore Estate.” Bree ran her fingers through her shoulder-length curls. “Almost makes me wish we were going to be here a bit longer, so I’d have time to visit.”
“Careful.” He grinned inwardly, determined not to ruin the surprise he had planned for her the next day. “Almost sounds like you’re enjoying your time with me.”
“Don’t get too cocky.” She laughed. “It’s too early to make that call, but so far...yes. I am enjoying the trip.”
“Fair enough.” He stepped off the elevator and offered his arm to her. She reluctantly slipped her arm through his and fell in step beside him.
They entered the restaurant, greeted by the enticing scent of savory, grilled meat. The gentle strains of live guitar music filled the air.
“It’s like an upscale hunting lodge.” Bree surveyed the brown-and-red leather seating and the antler chandeliers hanging overhead. “I honestly wouldn’t have thought that was possible.”
Wes chuckled. “Wait until you taste the food.”
“I’ve already studied the menu, so I know exactly what I want.”
His gaze raked over Bree, his heart beating a little faster. He knew exactly what he wanted, too. But it would be better for both of them if he showed restraint.
They were shown to a table, then placed their orders, falling into an easy conversation about Asheville and some of the activities he enjoyed here.
“Tomorrow morning, I’ll take you on a walking tour of downtown. It’s called the Urban Trail.” Wes sipped his beer.
“You’ve probably done the trail at least a half a dozen times.”
“Actually, I’ve only done it once with my mother and aunt. Normally, when I come to town I prefer something a little more challenging. Like a brisk hike.”
Bree raised an eyebrow, as if she’d been challenged. “Then let’s do that instead.”
“The hike takes about four hours.”
“Then we should get started early.”
“The trail can be pretty muddy and it’s challenging for a beginner.”
“Who says I’m a beginner?” Bree asked incredulously. “You do know I make my living as an athlete, right?”
“Fine.” Wes raised his hands, giving in. Bree was determined to go hiking with him. Maybe they’d take the city walking tour later. “Then we’d better make it an early night.”
He was disappointed by the prospect.
“Not necessarily.” She shrugged. “I’m not in training right now. I can handle staying up past my bedtime. Unless you’re the one who can’t function without eight hours of beauty sleep.”
“I’ll manage. Got hiking clothes and shoes?”
“I do.”
Bree for the win.
The server brought out his fried calamari and her roasted pear salad. The look of satisfaction on Bree’s face after she took the first bite of her salad did things to him.
“Anything else I need to know about tomorrow?”
Wes dug in to his calamari and tried to shift his mind to something that didn’t get him so hot and bothered. Like cold showers and sewer drains.
“We’ll be on a tight schedule, and you’ll want to wear comfortable and casual clothing and footwear for tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay.” The expression on Bree’s face indicated that the wheels in her head were turning. “Anything else?”
“No.” Wes enjoyed keeping her in suspense. Something about her frustrated little pout made him want to kiss her. He wasn’t sure who was torturing whom.
Later, as he dined on grass-fed filet mignon and she ate her pan-roasted duck breast, butternut squash risotto and bacon-braised greens, their conversation fell into a comfortable rhythm.
“You didn’t mention what took your family to London.” Bree sipped her wine.
“My mother was the house manager for a wealthy family that relocated to London,” Wes said, then sighed. “Actually, that’s what gave us the opportunity to move to London. The reason we moved is because my mother wanted a fresh start for all of us.”
Bree’s eyes were sympathetic and kind, like a warm hug from a dear friend. He could tell she wanted to delve deeper, but seemed unsure if she should.
“My parents divorced when my brother and I were kids. He was a jazz saxophonist who headlined his own band. He and my mom met when he hired her as the band’s female vocalist.”
“Your parents were musicians? They must’ve lived an exciting
life.” She sliced into her duck and took a bite.
“They did,” Wes said. “Which is why the old man didn’t adjust too well to family life and working in a factory. He stuck it out eight or nine years, but then he became restless.
“He got the band back together and snagged a few local gigs. At first, that was enough. But then he wanted to hit the road and tour again.” Wes drained his beer, then signaled for another. “My mother didn’t want to drag us all over the world, and she refused to leave us behind. She didn’t want anyone else raising her kids—not even my grandmother.”
“Is that when they split?”
“Not at first. He hired a new vocalist and his band toured the States, then Europe. His calls and postcards became less frequent. Eventually he sent a letter saying that he loved us, but that this was something he needed to do for himself. The divorce papers showed up not long afterward.”
“Wes, I’m sorry.” There was comfort and compassion in her voice, rather than pity. “I understand the betrayal you feel when a parent walks away from you like that...it’s indescribable.”
“I thought your parents were still together.”
Bree seemed to carefully debate her next words. “I’m adopted.”
Wes straightened in his seat, the hair lifting on the back of his neck. “You’re adopted?”
“Yes.” She seemed surprised by his reaction.
“I didn’t mean for it to sound as if...” He took a breath. Get it together, man. “It’s just that I’ve seen some of your interviews and pictures of your family. You resemble your mother quite a bit. I guess we see what we expect to see.”
Nice save.
Bree’s shoulders relaxed. “My adoptive mother is my biological great aunt. My bio mom had me when she was really young. Her aunt and uncle weren’t able to conceive and they couldn’t afford in vitro. So when they learned my bio mom was pregnant and didn’t want the baby, they talked her out of termination and offered to adopt me. I got lucky twice.”
“It’s good you were able to stay with family.” He assessed her carefully before asking his next question. Her open expression seemed to give him permission. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your relationship with your birth mom?”