“Always was. Never pretended to be anything else.”
"Isn't that the truth," Keeli confirmed. "You tried to ruin my life without a second thought," she reminded her friend but without malice.
"And you ruined a perfectly gorgeous Elie Saab gown," Sloane shot back.
"Hey, that was an accident, and you know it," Keeli stood to emphasize her words, placing her hands on her hips in a defiant stance.
"And it was years ago, and it is water under the bridge," Missy reminded the ladies who were spoiling for a fight. "You're friends now, remember."
“I remember,” Keeli admitted shamefaced. “Hug and forgive me, Sloane?”
“Oh, please, don’t go all mushy on me,” Sloane told Keeli, but she hugged her friend tightly.
"Ok, back to Regan's problems," Joanne suggested. "The admin in me can't help it," she announced, holding up a small notepad she had scribbled all over. "I did a pros/cons list."
“You’re joking,” Clarice asked, grabbing the paper from her sister’s raised hand. “She’s not joking. Tyler: live in Chicago, shared love of real estate, history, hot sex. Those are the pros. Cons: broke your heart, trust issues.”
“What did she write for Brandon?” Charlotte asked.
“Pros: proposed marriage, a great job in DC, possible White House run, smart,” she read.
“Wait a second. Tyler is just as smart,” Missy and Regan corrected in tandem.
“OK, strike smart, continuing with pros then, great sex, and that rock on your finger. Cons: takes you away from Chicago, possibly using you for your money.”
“Both of these lists are missing the important stuff, Ree,” Keeli spoke up. “Nothing personal, Jo,” she apologized to her friend.
“What’s missing? I think White House might override everything else,” Clarice reminded Regan again.
"Seriously, where is the personal stuff? Which one makes you laugh? Which man supports your goals and dreams? Whose shoulder can you lean on? Who treats you as a partner? Is one more demanding than the other? Is one more helpful? Which one can you see yourself beside when you grow old?”
“Oh Keeli, you are wise beyond your years,” Joanne admitted. “Without those, my list is worthless.”
“So, Ree?” Missy asked. The room was silent, all eyes on Regan.
Regan stood still, looking at her friends without seeing them, allowing the questions to run through her brain as the answers came back at her repeatedly – Tyler, Tyler, and Tyler.
“I’ve been an idiot,” she admitted at last to her friends.
“Tyler,” Missy stated. “It’s always been Tyler.”
“Always,” Regan confirmed. “He is the hero in all my fairy tales, the man beside me when I envision success, failure, family. Oh God, family. I can’t imagine having children with anyone but Tyler."
“Looks like you have an engagement to break,” Sloane stated.
"Yes, I do." Regan agreed, nodding her head, a light coming into her face as if a weight lifted from her shoulders.
"I admit, I can't wait to have you back in the office full-time," Charlotte told Regan. “But Brandon will be heart-broken.”
"He'll get over it. So many women want a man like him, he'll find one quickly enough. Oh shit, what about my job? I love my new job, and I can make such a difference. I wanted to improve urban housing accessibility. How can I give that up?"
“You gave up your CEO job,” Missy reminded her sister. “And that was the job you wanted more than any in the world. I know, I watched you beg and cry, dealing with Father about it. Come back and do the job you were born to do. You can use the Lyons Howe Charitable Trust to do good works."
“She’s right,” Charlotte agreed. “You belong at the helm of Lyons Howe. Come home, Regan. We will all welcome you with open arms.”
"Even Tyler?" Regan asked uncertainly.
Her friends smiled, laughed, and responded in unison. “Especially Tyler.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Regan
Regan called and texted Brandon repeatedly. He was not responding. She wasn't alarmed. He often fell off her radar when he was back in Rhode Island. He generally overbooked his short time at home and staying in touch with Regan sank to the bottom on his to-do list.
But now that she knew what she wanted, Regan couldn't wait to take action. She couldn't tell Tyler how she felt while she still had a fiancé, it wouldn't be fair to either man. She was going to see Tyler in a matter of minutes, so her immediate concern was how to conceal her emotions.
Lyons Howe was a sponsor at the Children’s Hospital fundraiser. Tyler would be at the table with Regan all evening, looking dashing in his tuxedo, pulling her every heartstring. She just wanted to fall into his arms and begin her life with him.
She had spent much of the day Skyping with her right-hand person at CDFI, Maureen. With just a bit of probing, Regan ascertained that she wanted the promotion to Regan's position and would take it if offered. Regan felt confident about recommending her to the undersecretary and Regan would leave CDFI knowing she had left the agency in skillful hands. Of course, it would require approvals, everything in Washington did, but at least Maureen would be assigned the Interim Director position, getting her foot in the door.
It turned out that people in Washington eyed Regan’s position as temporary anyway, viewing her as nothing more than an extension of Brandon. Her job was seen as a positive step toward Brandon’s inevitable run for office. They all imagined Brandon in the White House with Regan as the perfect little lady by his side. She bristled at the idea. Why couldn't he be the ideal little husband at her side? No one, least of all Brandon, could envision that. She suspected that in a deprecating way, Brandon had encouraged the perception of Regan as a helpmate who was first lady material while downplaying her ability to be a business leader.
Tyler had no problem being her second in command; her ‘First Husband' if that had been her ambition. He was a partner in every sense, always supportive of her goals and aspirations. What a
fool she was to have looked elsewhere. She would never be happy with anyone else. It was Tyler for her.
They still had massive hurdles to overcome. The security detail was a constant reminder of past lies and current danger. Regan had faith, though. The best in the business was working on the solution. In just weeks it would be over, and they would be together.
But she had to break up with Brandon first. Pushing it to the back of her mind, she entered the Casino Club ballroom admiring the décor and the size of the crowd. This fundraiser would be a success, raising needed funds would help attain the hospital's lofty goal. Since Sloane was on the board, she was sitting with the handsome, enigmatic guest of honor, Grant Harris. The famous doctor had been missing in action for a few years. Since his return to medicine, he was setting the world on fire. It promised to be an exciting night.
Regan pasted a smile on her face and braced herself for an evening touting the hospital and LHRE. Tyler would be meeting her here, taking some of the pressure off and helping her sell their message.
She glided across the rotunda floor, circling the dance floor, admiring the flowers and elegant table settings. She stopped now and then to say hello to friends and business associates, but kept focused on the Lyons Howe table and Tyler. Then he was moving toward her, closing the distance between them.
The man could be a model for the classic tuxedo, his broad shoulders and long legs showing it off to advantage. Regan felt the breath leave her lungs and a smile lift her lips. He looked so damn good, loping toward her undeterred by the crowd that seemed determined to keep them apart. His eyes focused only on her. She had a brief second of concern that he was dismissive to those who stopped to chat, but she watched him work his way toward her. He managed to acknowledge the most philanthropic of Chicago's elite while still covering the distance between them.
“You look stunning,” he whispered, blatantly checking her out, pausing on the cutouts at the waistline of her silver sequined dre
ss before returning to lock his chocolate brown gaze on her blue one. “Stunning,” he repeated.
Regan stood dumbfounded. Here was the old Tyler, the Tyler that wore his heart on his sleeve. His love for her radiated from his expression and finally, his head tilted to hers, and he brushed his lips across hers.
The kiss broke her stupor, his lips warm and full of promise against hers. She reached up to move a small lock of hair from his forehead, needing an excuse to touch him. The connection between them was palpable. How she would get through the night without constantly touching and kissing him was beyond her.
He took her arm, and they moved slowly through the crowd, stopping as a team to speak with influential leaders, dropping hints about deals to be made and properties that were available. They finished each other's sentences, operating together like a finely oiled machine, while their fingers or bodies collided surreptitiously.
“How long do we have to stay?” Tyler whispered in her ear as they moved away from the CEO of a huge construction company that loved to hear himself talk. "I can't make small talk all night when I need to be touching you."
Regan considered scolding the incorrigible man but found she agreed too much to argue. "We have to make it to the introduction of the honoree, and then we can sneak out."
“OK. I will try to control myself until then, but maybe we shouldn’t sit next to each other.” Tyler’s smile was wicked as his brow rose suggestively.
So much for staying away from him until she spoke to Brandon. Regan felt her ability to fight this man’s charm slipping between her fingers. Her blood was hot, her breath coming fast, her body craving his and he had barely touched her. One serious kiss and she knew she’d be a goner.
Fate worked against her if she wanted to retain what little composure remained. The last two seats available at the Lyons Howe table were side by side. Tyler gave Regan an unequivocal smile, his eyes all but promising indecent behavior. Regan couldn't resist returning his grin, despite knowing he would take it as an invitation.
Tyler pulled a chair out for Regan, admiring the long length of leg that was visible as the slit in her Akris dress slid open high on her thigh. He pushed her chair in, leaning forward with lips against her ear and said, “nice view.”
Regan turned to her right to greet the Turners and Felts, two of her best clients with their spouses, admiring the women’s dresses, commenting on the room and the crowd to hide her flustered emotions. She transitioned smoothly between small talk and business issues, while her heart fluttered uncontrollably.
Tyler took the seat beside her, the scent of his body taking her back to the night when they had first made love. The memories swamped her, forcing her to ask her companions to repeat what they said.
“We were looking forward to meeting your senator,” Mrs. Felt repeated, the words hitting Regan like a gut-punch. Why did everyone insist on calling Brandon ‘hers’?
“He is back in Rhode Island, Mrs. Felt. He is with his family taking advantage of the holiday recess.”
“When is the wedding?” Mrs. Turner asked, taking Regan’s hand to admire her engagement ring. Regan mumbled something about not setting a date yet and awkwardly yanked her hand back to her lap. Fortunately, Mrs. Turner didn’t seem to notice Regan’s rude behavior.
"I was concerned the early snow would keep people away tonight," Regan changed the subject. "But what a huge crowd. It's gratifying, isn't it?"
"With the new building, the hospital outreach has been fabulous. They are honoring that famous Dr. Grant Harris, too, now that he has returned to work. Such a sad episode that was, but talk about making lemonade from lemons, his new procedures are making news all over the world.”
"It will make a huge difference in the lives of children," Regan agreed, looking across the room toward Sloane's table, expecting to see the handsome doctor sitting there. No sign of the elusive man, but Sloane caught her eye, motioned toward Tyler and giving Regan a thumbs up. Regan quickly dropped her head, hiding her deep blush. Could Sloane read her mind or was she just so obvious?
She must be obvious, Regan decided, when she felt Tyler's strong hand skim along the edge of her dress opening, stopping just short of the apex of her thighs where she was rapidly growing damp. He was looking away, speaking earnestly with the couple beside him, a lawyer from their board and her husband.
Looking above the table, no one would guess he was thinking of anything but work, but his fingers told an entirely different story. They were stroking a languid pattern along Regan’s thigh, caressing higher with each pass, growing indecently close to her now soaking panties.
“Not sure I will make it to speeches,” he leaned over to tell her, calmly, as if he were asking her to pass the salt. “Can’t we at least excuse ourselves and find a corner?”
Regan turned her flaming face to his in shock, only to realize he was teasing her – in more ways than one. "You need to behave," she scolded.
"Do I? I am getting the complete opposite vibe, Ree, and we both know I can read you like a book. I am not sure what has happened, but I like it. Hell, I love it." Before she could absorb his words, he had turned away to continue talking to the lawyer's husband about the Blackhawk's chances for the Stanley Cup. How could he do that when she couldn't think of anything but his hand on her…Idiot, two can play that game.
Regan shifted in her chair, lifting the hand resting quietly in her lap and sliding it across to Tyler's lap. It came to rest lightly on his crotch. She got an immediate response. Tyler faltered as he discussed the hockey team's schedule, turning to catch her eye and give her an evil look. She watched him hold back an audible hiss.
Ah yes, all was fair in love and war. Regan had a self-satisfied moment feeling Tyler's expanding erection before she became aware of Tyler's fingers reaching higher and caressing her in ways she couldn't possibly ignore. She gasped, drawing attention from those around her.
“I just realized…” What excuse could she give? Her mind was mush.
"Yes, I see them too," Tyler said, speaking to the table at large. "Will you excuse us a moment, we need to say hello to someone. We can't be rude." The vague excuse seemed to satisfy those at the table as Tyler stood to help Regan from her chair and lead her away, arm wrapped around her lower back.
“What are you doing?” Regan hissed at Tyler.
“Finishing what you started,” he responded, gazing at her with longing. She felt his hand spread across her back, touching the bare skin low on her back and sending fire racing through her veins.
“What you started, you mean,” she accused.
“Can you blame me, my temptress?” he asked, motioning to her body. “You can’t sit beside me looking like that and expect me to keep my hands off of you. Let’s get out of here.”
The double doors of the large room shut behind them. “But we can’t go…”
“Stop worrying about what people with think, Ree. Just feel,” Tyler commanded, placing his finger across her mouth to shush her. “Give me your coat check ticket. Did you Uber?”
As if on autopilot she nodded yes and handed him the ticket. Tyler quickly bundled her into her cashmere coat and led her to the door. The valet brought the car in minutes, and the moment they were tucked into the car, Tyler was speeding away on Lake Shore Drive.
“Do you need anything? We are going to my place.”
It was a stupid question. Regan needed a toothbrush, clothes. Otherwise, she would have to do a walk of shame tomorrow morning in a shimmering silver gown.
Ignoring all of that, Regan blurted the first thing that came to mind. "I need to break off my engagement."
“That goes without saying,” Tyler told her, reaching for her hand in the dark interior and rubbing his thumb over the back of it. For Regan, it was the reassurance she needed from him. He understood her situation, and he was promising he would be there to support her.
“You’ll need a new job,” she added.
“Yeah, that goes without saying too,” Tyler agreed,
pulling into the garage under his South Loop apartment building and gliding into the tight parking space with ease.
He jumped around the car to open her door while Regan gathered the skirts of her long gown. Tyler reached in to help her exit the vehicle and pull her straight into his arms. She went willingly, lifting her face to his for the kiss she had craved all night. As soon as she felt his lips on hers, warm, sexy and demanding, she sighed into his mouth, leaned into his body and allowed the electricity to flow from him all the way to her fingers and toes.
God, she wanted this man. She wanted his touch, his mouth, this magic he made just by being near her. How had she been stupid enough to think she could be happy with anyone else? She felt it in every fiber of her being. She was home.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Tyler
Even if Wyatt hadn't shared the bits and pieces of conversation that Keeli confided to him from her girls’ night out, Tyler would have known things had changed just by looking at Regan when she stepped into the ballroom. Even without the light in her eyes, the come-hither smile and the telltale blush, that dress would have given everything away. Clearly, that provocative dress was intended to send Tyler a message.
The sequined dress shone like a beacon in the room, catching and reflecting the lights from above, making it impossible to take his eyes off of her. All modesty from the front, the dress was almost backless, with those cutouts just calling to him to slide his hand into the naked waist of the dress. The dress clung to her slim curves. She had never looked more desirable, drawing a sheen of sweat to his skin and forcing him to concentrate on controlling his erection.
Her skin had felt like silk under his fingers tempting him until he was almost indiscreet under the table – almost. But when he felt her hand drop into his crotch, he knew he was lost. If he didn't get her out of there, and fast, he would come in his tuxedo pants for all the world to see.
Damn, she had him on edge.
Not sure how he had survived as long as he had, Tyler was just happy that he had her alone at last. He could jump off that edge and take her with him. And he planned to do just that, for the rest of night and all day tomorrow. The real world could wait, the next twenty-four hours belonged to them.
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