Sometimes, even the best-laid plans get fucked up.

Like right now.

The fact that Foster’s cousin, Kimberley, is friends with Rose only became apparent this morning. I don’t want to be the prick who backs out from the shared drive to Long Island for this wedding. I keep my mouth shut and go with the flow. I’m resilient. Now that I’m going to spend close to twenty-four hours with her, I’ll make the best of it, even though all my instincts are telling me that it’ll all go to hell. It’s a horrible situation that I just made worse.

I look out the passenger window, waiting to see her reaction. As she steps out the front entrance and scans faces looking back at her from our SUV, I clock the surprise and horror on her face. I’ve never uttered a word to anyone but Dylan about that night, but right now, with the questioning expression on her face, followed by averting her eyes away from me, she must be wondering whether Kimberley and Foster know. They don’t have any idea. Not from me. All Foster knows is that she’s the Rose Burnell who’s trying to help us out with the Levine Holdings issue, and he knows not to talk about it with anyone, not even his cousin.

I drag anxious fingers through my hair and clear my throat, thinking about whether I can do anything at all to make this ride a little more comfortable. I can’t pull Rose aside to clear the air either, not without clueing Kimberley in that we have more in common than our alma mater. It’ll have to wait until later.

Once I resign myself to accept this situation for what it is, I only have to look in Rose’s direction as she descends the front stairs of her building to remember why my life got entangled with Rose’s all those years ago.

She’s fucking gorgeous.

Physically, everything about her is just that way I like a woman. From the curves of her hips that I’ve fantasized about holding onto, to her long legs I imagined wrapped around my waist, with high heels just like the one she’s wearing, digging into my back as I fuck her somewhere private. I pictured my face buried in her cleavage, and my lips around those perky nipples that form an imprint on her dress through her bra, if she’s wearing one. Not even that disastrous night can change my insane attraction to her. I’ve imagined burying my hands in all her raven colored, bone straight hair, or holding onto it to anchor her as I claim her mouth.

But it’s her eyes that still haunt me. On nights when I’m alone, wishing I could turn back time, it’s those eyes that beg me to take her pain away.

And that’s my problem.

I can’t undo what happened to her, and I can’t change the fact that it’s my fault.

Foster hits the button to open the trunk, and the sound of the latch clicking open pulls me back to the present. Clearing my throat, I ignore my growing erection and climb out of the front seat, opening the back passenger door and taking Rose’s travel bag as she reaches the sidewalk. She thanks me but the words are empty, simply something said to be polite, and probably only because it’s not just the two of us. I make room for it in the back with the rest of our things while Kimberley greets her warmly. I return to my seat and buckle up, somewhat relieved that Kimberley is the talkative type. She prattles on for almost the entire ride to Long Island, filling the silence as they compare notes on who bought what from the couple’s bridal registry, and catch up on each other’s lives while I help Foster navigate up front.

Our SUV crawls to a stop behind half dozen vehicles waiting for the hotel valet guys up ahead. I shoot Rose a look through the mirror on the flap of my sun shade. Again, she averts her eyes. When we make it to the front of the queue, the valet opens the back door just as I look to open mine. Another bellman hurries to the open trunk door and takes out all the luggage, giving Rose the out she was probably hoping for. She and Kimberly rush ahead behind the bellman, leaving me with Foster as we wait for the first guy to take the car keys.

My mind races, seeing them disappear through the front door of the hotel.

“You need to fucking relax a little, okay?” Foster says to me.

“I’m relaxed.”

“You’re acting obsessed. You didn’t take your eyes off of her for even a second. It’s a little creepy, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this way.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you there’s a lot riding on the Mont Blanc deal,” I say dismissively. “And whatever’s going on under their Levine Holdings umbrella can fuck everything up.”

“Trust me. I know, and it still doesn’t give you an excuse to eye-fuck her for close to two hours straight.”

I laugh off his comment and follow him inside. “I’ll eye fuck who I want, when I want. It ain’t a crime.”

As we stand in line to check into our rooms, all I can think about is one question.

How am I going to make the best use of whatever time I have with Rose? My dick can think of a few things. She can probably use a good fuck too, judging from how uptight she seems.

But I also like the idea of finding some way to use the evening making up for our past. I’ll do whatever I can do to help her enjoy this mini-trip.

“Just don’t fucking scare her off,” he says.

My jaw tightens, and I tighten my grip on the handle of my small suitcase. Too late for that. I look around the lobby, only noticing the hotel Muzak system fill the air with cheesy ballads a few moments before Kimberley turns to Foster and me.

“Our rooms are all on the same floor,” she chirps, passing us the key cards inside a little paper flap with the room number written on one side.

How convenient for me.

Before we make it to the row of elevators, I know what I have to do.

Rose may not admit it, but I’m sure it’ll make an impression.