Baiting the Maid of Honor by Tessa Bailey Page A

on schedule. No matter that her friends’ postures suggested the only object they were interested
    in hunting down was a cold, stiff drink. Kady stood beside her holding the stack of lists, preparing to
    pass them out to the amassing group of wedding guests. Julie had insisted that Kady compile the items
    to be hunted so she herself could compete. And win , if she had her way. More than happy to sip a latte
    and await the winner in Starbucks, Kady had readily agreed.
    Christine stood beside Kady, fussing with her hair. Putting it up in a ponytail, then cursing and
    letting it back down. She looked hot under the collar about something, but Julie knew better than to
    ask. They’d often joked that the term “fiery redhead” had been coined on Christine’s behalf. Once she
    got started, they had a hard time calming her back down. Best to let that sleeping dog lie a spell, she
    decided.
    All three of them raised a questioning eyebrow when Regan strolled up and joined them. Wearing a
    short dress that left little to the imagination and six-inch heels.
    “You steal those shoes off a stripper?” Julie asked. ”Or are you planning on taking the drastic step
    of breaking your neck to avoid this scavenger hunt?”
    “Actually I’m hoping to distract the competition.” Regan posed. “Jealous?”
    “Concerned,” Kady corrected. “About your ankles. And your mental health.”
    Regan shrugged, already looking bored.
    “Does everyone really want to avoid the scavenger hunt? I thought it would be fun.” She felt the
    familiar stab of disappointment in herself when everyone stayed silent. Don’t let it show . “Well,
    that’s just dandy.”
    Reed sauntered up then, standing off to the side of the growing group, arms crossed over his chest.
    Against her will, every inch of Julie’s skin went hypersensitive. Lord, he looked ready for sin. An
    observation she resented. She didn’t want to observe him. Yet she couldn’t stop herself from
    cataloging every part of him. Cut biceps, adorned with tattoos, stretched the sleeves of his white T-
    shirt in a way that didn’t belong among the khaki and polo-shirt-wearing wedding guests. His dark
    hair was still damp from a shower. She knew from experience now that he would smell fresh,
    masculine, raw. That underneath that T-shirt and jeans, his body was poised, ready to be exerted.
    Craving exertion. Such a contrast to his deceptively casual pose. When their gazes met, rebellious
    heat curled below her waist.
    No. She didn’t want this. Perhaps he’d partially redeemed himself by cleaning up after the party.
    Easing her burden. Leaving her that unintentionally sweet, uniquely Reed note. That didn’t mean she
    should excuse last night’s lewd comment so easily. Did it? Why did she want to?
    Watching Reed, she held out a hand to Kady. “Hand me one of those lists, darlin’.”
    Regan did a little dance move. “Aw, shit. Julie P on the prowl.”
    Christine looked amused. Not to mention grateful for a distraction from whatever was obviously
    giving her fits. “Go easy on him. No one outmatches you when you’re holding a list of meaningless
    items.”
    “Y’all are seeing things. I just need to clear something up, is all.” Julie ignored the round of snorts

delivered by her friends and swayed toward Reed, trying for all the world to hide her nerves. At her
    unexpected approach, he narrowed his eyes, but otherwise didn’t move an inch. She lowered her
    voice so her friends wouldn’t overhear their conversation. “If you’re expecting a thank-you for acting
    as my cleanup crew, keep waiting. It won’t come. But in the spirit of goodwill I’ve decided to call us
    even.”
    “Is that right, pixie?” He swept her head-to-toe with a blistering look. “I feel obliged to tell you
    goodwill is the furthest thing from my mind right now.”
    Julie struggled for composure. She should turn up her nose and walk away. It’s what she’d been
    taught to do when a man overstepped