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“Yup. Just saw her.”
“Is she okay?”
I recall her tears
Why wouldn't she?
“Her marriage is over.”.
” I pump my fist at that. Hell, yes.
“What happened?” I text back and hold my breath for his answer.
“He’s fucking the nanny.” He responds.
“Woah.” What kind of idiot has sex with other women when they’re married to Regan Wilde?
“Yup. Buy her a drink and help her get laid.”
If only he knew just how much I’d like to do that, he wouldn’t ask.
“By anyone *but* you. You dirty fucker,” his next message reads. I laugh nervously
Duh. And I think she can buy her own drinks and get laid just fine if she wants. I’ll just say hi.” If she happens to climb on my lap and ride my dick again, I most certainly won’t say no.
“I’ll text her, let her know so she doesn’t think you’re some random hitting on her and kick you in the balls before you can introduce yourself.”
“I’m looking at her right now. Tell her to look up and she’ll see me.”
“Cool. Getting a call, later.”
I watch her intently now. She and her friend are still laughing and talking. I wonder what she’ll think when she realizes Stone is me. She looks down at her phone and frowns.
I hold my breath when she looks up suddenly and scans the pool area. Tyson must have texted her. I stay stock still and wait for her to find me.
Her gaze moves past me and then comes back suddenly. She lifts her sunglasses up and a smile spreads on her lips.Her smile is so bright, I feel the heat of it from all the way over here.
She looks…excited to see me. Maybe she’s forgiven me for stabbing that dude and cussing her out that night.
I wave.
She lifts her hand and waves back.
Her smile disappears abruptly, and she looks down at her phone, again.
Her expression becomes a frown, and as she lifts it to her ear, speaks briefly and then with a quick, but heated glance in my direction, she stands to leave and that mouthwatering body of hers comes fully into view. The crocheted hem of her shorts skim the tops of her supple, shapely thighs. The sight of which set my palms tingling. I stand, intent on following her, and nearly collide with the server standing at my table with a tray of food balanced on one hand.
“Oh, shit,” I mutter, as I lose sight of Regan. I sit, a frustrated sigh slips past my lips before I press them together and give the woman a halfhearted smiled. “That’s mine?” I ask.
Her brows furrow and her smile flattens as concern creases her eyes and she reaches for the small pad of paper in her shirt front pocket. “You are leaving? Or, maybe I have the wrong table?”
“No, no, this is right. Sorry, go ahead.” I gesture at the table.
She nods, but there’s a bemused smile on her face, as she lays my food out on the table and the aroma of sweet roasted garlic, caramelized onions and sizzling Carne Asada makes my eyes roll back in my head, and my empty stomach growls its demand.
I start building my fajita and plan my assault.
Even if Tyson’s intel about her marriage is right, Regan Wilde is still out of my league.
