Chapter Twenty-Four

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

AS REAGAN STEPPED out of her g-string and stuffed it in her briefcase, Evan gaped at her.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

“You can’t expect me to walk around in those all day.” Loosening his tie from around her neck, she lifted it over her head and threw it at him.

Evan held it up and shook his head. “Then you can’t expect me to wear this all day.”

“Put it on. You came in wearing a tie, so it’d be too obvious if you left the room without one.”

“I think it’d be more noticeable to wear it. Jesus, did you leave teeth marks?”

“If anyone asks, just tell them I tried to strangle you.” She gave him a pat on the chest and headed for the door, but Evan grabbed her wrist.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he said.

“Course not. You’re still a cheating asshole.”

“And you’re still a fucking liar.”

Reagan narrowed her eyes and jerked away from his grip. “Glad we got that straight.”

When she pulled the door shut behind her, reality slapped her in the face. Oh fucking hell, not again. At least the hallway was empty, and no one was around to witness her walk of shame out of the conference room. Better not to chance it, though, she thought as she dashed to her office, praying the whole way that no one would see her. If she ran into anyone now, there’d be no denying what just happened between her and Evan. Her clothes were back to immaculate smoothness, but it would be her face that gave it away.

God, what was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking. But it doesn’t mean anything. I hate him. Besides, a good hate fuck never hurt anyone.

As she entered her office and shut the door, her cell phone pinged.

Lunch?Crystal’s message said.

Yes. Girl talk. That was what she needed. And fresh air. Fresh air was good.

Diablos at noon? she typed back.

See you then.

* * *

EVAN STOOD WHERE Reagan had left him minutes ago—staring at the shut conference room door. In his right hand he held the crumpled tie she had thrown at him as she’d exited the room.

Goddamn it.Why am I such an idiot?

He zipped his pants and tossed his tie down next to his jacket on the table. Picking up the coat, he shrugged into it, and then pulled the white collar of his shirt up. And why the fuck did I do it here? Now he wouldn’t be able to attend a meeting without thinking of Reagan bent over the desk and his cock plowing inside her. Yeah, smart move, fucker.

He knotted his tie and slid it into place at the base of his throat, and as he smoothed the ends of it down his chest, he remembered her dainty hand patting him there condescendingly before she’d walked out the door.

Jesus, man. She doesn’t even like you. And you don’t like her. Get a fucking grip.

He turned the collar down on his shirt, reached for his briefcase, and slammed it shut with a little more force than needed. This was not how today was supposed to have gone. He’d told himself when he arrived this morning that he would be a professional and respect the fact that Troy had stopped by his house, by staying the fuck away from his sister.

Somehow, though, getting inside Reagan after she’d started mouthing off at him had trumped his moral high ground, and staying away from her had been the furthest thing from his mind.

He glanced at the clock on the opposite wall and saw that he was due in Bill’s office in thirty minutes for a lunch meeting he’d scheduled last week. There was no way out of it, but sitting in an office under the watchful eyes of Bill, who was practically a fucking father figure to Reagan, was not his idea of a fun afternoon.

Maybe I can convince him to go out for lunch.

He picked up his briefcase, took a fortifying breath, and told himself to forget this morning had happened. But when he turned to leave, he stepped on something hard and looked down to the carpeted floor to see Reagan’s string of pearls under his foot.

He crouched down to pick them up, and as he ran them through his fingers, he noticed the tiny gold clasp had broken. Rolling the polished pearls over his palm, he straightened and then slipped the necklace into his pocket. He’d give it back to Reagan as soon as he could look at her again without attacking her.

* * *

REAGAN ARRIVED AT the restaurant just as Crystal stepped up to the hostess station. When her friend turned to look at her, her eyes widened.

“You had sex.”

Reagan stopped in her tracks as the crowd of customers waiting to be seated went silent. “Uh,” she said, trying to keep the flush she felt spreading through her body off her face. She tried for a smile and felt herself failing. Horribly. “No.”

Crystal crossed her arms over her chest. “You did. Today. I can tell.”

“Crystal—” Reagan lowered her voice to a hushed whisper so her friend would do the same, but that wasn’t working for the loudmouth she was now regretting meeting for lunch.

“Please tell me it was not hot fuck-you sex in the workplace with a certain dangerous ex.”

“Oh my God. Can we please get a table before you bring up my sex life? And he’s not my ex.” Reagan looked at the gawking faces around them and said, “Carry on, nothing to see here.”

The hostess seemed to snap out of her eavesdropping, because she grabbed two menus and quickly showed them to their table.

“You are a bad, bad girl, Reagan Spencer,” Crystal commented after they’d given their drink orders. “First day back and fucking in his office.”

Reagan sighed and put her head in her hands. “The conference room, actually.”

“What? Holy fucking shit.”

When she glanced up, Crystal’s jaw was still on the table.

“I know. I’m a horrible person, and I make stupid decisions.”

“This is true,” Crystal joked. “But…we don’t like this guy. He cheated.”

“Well, I didn’t see that happen, but yeah, I’d guess he did. He says otherwise.”

“Of course he did. They all do. I mean, they have cocks for brains, what do we expect?”

And wasn’t that an understatement in Evan’s case. “Yeah,” Reagan said. “I just…I don’t know.”

Crystal raised an eyebrow as she sipped her drink. “You’re having doubts. He’s planting seeds of doubt, and I do mean that quite literally.” When she winked, Reagan groaned.

“No fucking seed planting happening, so wrap that shit up. And I mean that quite literally.”

A burst of laughter came out of her friend then, and the tension in Reagan’s shoulders eased. The best thing about Crystal was that she always lightened the mood, always made a joke or embarrassed the hell out of her to make her problems seem not quite as life or death as her brain was telling her they were.

“Now I’m hungry,” Crystal said, scanning the menu before eyeing Reagan over the top of it. “Some of us didn’t have our protein this morning.”

* * *

EVAN STOPPED OUTSIDE Bill’s office and did one final check of himself. Jacket was buttoned, tie was straight, and his zipper… Yeah, fuck, make sure it’s zipped. Once he was satisfied, he knocked on the door and waited for Bill’s voice.

“Come in, come in,” he heard.

Stepping into his boss’s office, he spotted Bill standing over by the globe that housed his secret, or not-so-secret now, stash of liquor. Evan shut the door behind him and slid his hands into his pockets as he walked inside, stopping by one of the chairs.

“Ah, there you are,” Bill said, turning from the stand with two glasses in his hands. “Can I interest you in a quick noon pick-me-up?”

One of Evan’s eyebrows rose, and he wondered if he looked like he needed a drink. Hell, he sure as fuck felt like it. “No, I think I’m going to pass. You okay?”

Bill placed one of the glasses back on the stand and added a splash of whiskey to the ice in his. Evan watched as Bill made his way over to him, compensating for the limp by relying more heavily on his other leg.

“Yes. Everything’s just fine and dandy with me. What about you?” Bill kept his eyes on Evan as he took a sip of his drink.

“I’m fine,” Evan said. But he wasn’t sure how the hell he actually got the words out.

Bill’s eyes narrowed slightly, and then he looked Evan over.

God, fuck this shit, he thought, and prayed that he hadn’t missed anything when putting himself back together. Never again, he vowed. If I get the fuck out of here with no damage, never fucking again.

Evan stood there under silent observation, and was close to cursing out loud when Bill finally brought his eyes back to his.

“You sure? I know this last week was…difficult. And then you had to go in hard with Reagan today to try and win this client…”

Bill continued to talk, but all Evan heard was go in hard with Reagan. Oh, he’d gone in hard, all right.

“Evan?”

“Huh?” he said, shaking himself out of the mental picture in his head.

“I just asked if you want to get out of the office for a bit. Maybe we could have this meeting down at Diablos.”

Evan almost sighed in relief. It was as if Bill was reading his mind. Well, the part where he’d wanted to leave the office, at least. He was damn lucky he couldn’t read the fucking rest.

“Yeah, that sounds really good, actually. I was going to suggest stepping out myself.”

Bill finished the drink with a quick swig and then placed the glass down on the corner of his desk.

“Fantastic. I’ll let Amy know. Sometimes you just have a hankering for some queso dip.”

* * *

FOR SOMEONE WHO’D claimed to be hungry, Crystal hadn’t eaten much. But that was probably because Reagan had ended up spilling her guts about how she’d known Evan way back when, and how nothing about their reunion had been coincidental.

“If your jaw is insisting on staying on the damn table while we’re here, at least let me put a napkin down first,” Reagan said.

Crystal shook her head, as if trying to clear it. “Hold on, let me make sure I have this straight. So you knew Evan when you were a kid, but then his parents Ponzi-schemed your parents as well as hundreds of others, and when their asses ended up in jail, Evan disappeared? Did I get that right?”

“That would be about the gist of it.”

“Fuck. Wait—you said Troy came down to see you both? What the hell happened? How is Evan not in the hospital?”

“Troy’s always been a lover, not a fighter. He was best friends with Evan, so I think he was curious to see him again.”

“I’m officially speechless.”

“That would be a first,” Reagan said with a laugh.

“Okay, so…what the hell happens now?”

“And that is the million-dollar question. I have no fucking clue.”

Crystal chewed on the end of her straw, looking deep in thought. “Maybe you could play with him a little.”

“I think we did enough of that today.”

“No, I don’t mean in bed. Or in conference rooms,” Crystal said. “Taunt him. Show him the kickass, confident female he can’t seem to stay away from.”

“Yeah, okay, but what about the feelings part?”

“His or yours?”

Reagan pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side. “Really?”

“Yes, really. What do you want out of this? You’ve never been a relationship kind of girl since I’ve known you, but I get the feeling this guy’s different no matter what kind of crazy shit he’s done. Or possibly not done, as it were. So I guess the question is, are you willing to wash your hands of him for good, or do you want to have this guy on his knees begging you to be with him?”

“He is good on his knees…” Reagan said. Am I fucking crazy for wanting to give him another shot? Probably. Definitely.

“Don’t make it easy on him, though. Didn’t you say you did some kind of hidden messages or something?”

“Mhmm. On coffee cups. Wait,” she said, an idea forming in her head. Yes, that’s perfect.

Crystal gave an approving nod. “I think you’re getting it. Go have fun with him. And if a chance for more comes up…”

With a grin, Reagan handed her credit card to the waiter and sat back against the booth, feeling twinges of excitement and apprehension. Maybe things had gotten too serious. Maybe she’d gotten too attached. That part wasn’t going away, but it was time to remember the part of her and Evan’s relationship that she loved. The fun, flirty, carefree side that reminded her of the way they’d been once, long ago.

And then she felt it. His stare.

Whipping around in the booth, she scanned the room until his familiar hazel eyes met hers. He was standing at the hostess station with Bill, one of his eyebrows raised in surprise.

Oh my God.

“What’s wrong?” Crystal asked when she jerked back into the booth.

Dreading the inevitable run-in with Evan and Crystal, she groaned, wanting to bang her head against the table. What were the odds they’d all be having lunch in the same place? When it came to Evan, there had to be some kind of tracking device, because he was everywhere.

“Fuck,” she said. “Please promise not to make a scene.”

“Why would I make a scene?”

“Just promise.”

“What the hell am I promising for?” Crystal leaned out of the booth and looked in the direction of the front door. “Oh, there’s Bill. Why would I make a scene about—” She stopped as her jaw took another dive for the table. “Oh holy Jesus, who’s that with him?”

When Reagan didn’t say anything, choosing instead to hide her face in her hands, Crystal hit the table with her palm and shrieked.

“That is not who I think it is. Please, please tell me that’s not Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome.”

“It might be,” Reagan said meekly.

“Wow.” Crystal’s eyes were wide and still staring in Evan’s direction. “Now it all makes fucking sense.”

* * *

THE ENTIRE TRIP over in the cab, Evan had tried to get Reagan off his mind. Bill had been a good distraction, talking to him about everything from the cool down in the weather that made his bad leg act up, to, surprisingly, his mother.

He always forgot Bill had worked with his parents back in the day, although that wasn’t much of a shock. Anything to do with his parents he tended to block out of his mind for self-preservation purposes. But when Bill had asked him how his mom was doing, in an off-the-cuff sort of way, Evan felt almost ashamed that he hadn’t been able to answer.

God, there was no reason he should have to feel anything toward the two who had ruined his childhood, but the fond smile that had crossed Bill’s mouth made Evan wonder for a moment if maybe the woman that his boss remembered was still somewhere inside the one sitting in prison.

Maybe I should go and see her,he thought as he followed Bill through the doors of Diablos and stopped by the hostess station.

He scanned the restaurant trying to spot the missing hostess, and as his eyes tracked over the bustling tables, he caught sight of a familiar now-brunette, whose scorching brown eyes he’d been trying to forget since he’d last seen them spitting fire and sass at him.

Are you kidding me, he thought as Reagan fucking Spencer stared back at him. Apparently the universe had a goddamn sense of humor when it came to his life, because no matter how hard he tried to steer it in one direction, it always ended up on the detour back to Let’s-fuck-with-Evan-ville.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” a perky redhead greeted them.

Evan tore his eyes away from Reagan just as she seemed to get her own jolt of what-the-fuck medicine, and then he turned to Bill, who, of course, was none the wiser.

“Well, hello, young lady,” Bill greeted, jovial as always.

“Is it just the two of you today?”

“Yes, yes, just us two.”

“Okay then, if you’ll just follow me, I’ll take you to your seats.”

Evan watched her snatch up a couple of menus and hoped like hell she wasn’t about to walk them toward—yeah, of course she was—Reagan.

“Bill,” he whispered under his breath, and when his boss looked over his shoulder at him as if to say, What? Evan found himself stuck for words. What was he going to say? Reagan’s here and I don’t want to sit next to her, like some kind of stupid adolescent kid.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbled, and kicked his own ass for being a fucking idiot.

No, it was time to man up. He could do this. If Reagan Spencer could sit in a busy downtown restaurant with no fucking panties on, then he could damn well walk by her like he didn’t remember her stuffing them into her briefcase.

As he neared the booth he’d seen her slide back into, he noticed the second occupant at Reagan’s table staring up at him with wide eyes and a shock of auburn curls. She had a light sprinkling of freckles on her pert nose, and as he got closer he saw her eyes dare to trail down from his face to his chest—and then they went lower.

Bill was just about at the booth when Reagan slid out of her seat and looked Evan dead-on. He had to give her credit—she sure as hell didn’t back down from a challenge. And that feisty side of her appealed to him more than he’d ever imagined.

“Bill,” she said, as she ran her hands down her thighs, and Evan almost groaned at the reminder of how they’d looked when he’d had her bent over the table earlier. Creamy, bare and— “Evan. How unexpected to see you both here.”

Bill came to a stop, and a wide smile lit up his face. “Reagan. Well, well, this is a coincidence. Of all the places in a city as large as this, we chose the same one.”

She smiled at the both of them, but when her eyes lingered on him, Evan swore a mischievous spark entered them. “Yes it is, isn’t it. But this seems to happen a lot with me and Evan.”

Bill chuckled. “Does it?”

“Yes,” Reagan replied. “We may come at different times but usually end up at the same place.”

Evan felt his cock react to Reagan’s words as if she’d run her tongue over it. What kind of game is she playing?

“Well, I have to admit today’s decision was purely mine. I had a craving for some queso.”

Reagan laughed, but Evan heard the strain behind it. She might have been trying to project Miss Cool and Calm, but it was clear to him she was anything but. And that sparked the devil inside him to come out and play.

He glanced down at Reagan’s friend, who was biting her bottom lip as if trying to keep her mouth shut, and Evan wondered just how much she knew about him. Because it was obvious she knew something.

“Would you like to join us for lunch, Reagan?” he asked, returning his eyes to her.

Her friend lost it then, and the laugh that she’d been attempting to hide turned into a cough instead. Oh yeah, she knows fucking everything.

“I would love to stay,” Crystal began, but a quick glare from Reagan shut her up real fast.

Reagan turned around and smiled at Bill. “We actually just finished, and I’ve got to get back to work, so you two enjoy.”

“That’s a shame,” Evan said, winking at Crystal. The woman’s brow rose and she shook her head before sliding out of the booth.

“It is a damn shame,” she told him when she stood up. Then she held out her hand. “Crystal Smith.”

“Evan James.” She had a firm grip, and it was instantly obvious that Reagan surrounded herself with women as headstrong as she was. No doubt they’d had quite the conversation now, if the mirth in her eyes was any indication.

When he let go, Reagan wrapped her arm through Crystal’s. “See you at the office,” she said, and pulled her friend away before the woman could say anything else.

Anything incriminating, I’d wager.

As Bill slid into an empty booth, Evan took a seat on the other side. Just as they picked up their menus, a loud “Sweet motherfucker!” could be heard from the front entrance. Evan leaned out to see what the commotion was about, only to notice Reagan pushing her friend out the door.

With a chuckle, Bill shook his head and eyed the menu. “You sure do know how to make a first impression, son.”

Evan scanned the menu and felt his lips twitch. Yeah, and maybe, if he were being honest, some part of him was hoping to make a lasting one with Ms. Spencer.