With Regret

Copyright © 2023 by Rebecca Quincy All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Cover Design: Maria @ Steamy Designs Editor: Sara Burgess @ Telltail Editing WITH REGRETa With Love novel REBECCA QUINCY For Cait who cheers the loudest Contents 1. Hunter2. Annika3. Hunter4. Annika5. Hunter6. Annika7. Annika8. Hunter9. Annika10. Annika11. Annika12. Hunter13. Annika14. Annika15. Hunter16. Hunter17. Annika18. Annika19. Hunter20. Hunter21. Annika22. Hunter23. Hunter24. Annika25. Annika26. HunterEpilogue: AnnikaSneak Peek: WITH LUCKAcknowledgmentsAlso by Rebecca QuincyAbout the Author ONEHunterAUGUST 1 There’d been a time when going to this wedding would have been Hunter’s worst nightmare. It was now, too, but for a totally different reason. Anxiety had been building in his chest for weeks leading up to this weekend, and the entire flight down it had been there whispering darkly in his mind. There’s no escape now, it told him mockingly. You’re out of time, out of options. You’ve managed to hide for four years, but now it’s all coming out and everyone will know what an asshole you are. You’re fucked. Hunter had tried blaring punk rock in his headphones for the whole flight, but not even Green Day with the volume cranked all the way up had done anything to quiet that malicious little voice. Because it was right. He was fucked. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He stepped from the shaded baggage claim area into the blaring Southern California sun, throwing up a hand to shield his eyes against the glare. Dammit, he had sunglasses buried somewhere in his rolling bag; he should have thought to get them out while he was still on the plane. Well, it was too late now. He reluctantly let his hand fall, squinting in the bright light, and reached into his back pocket for his cell phone to text his stepfather that he was on the curb and ready to be picked up. But he already had a message—two of them actually, but neither of them from Jack. ChristianThey won’t let me wait at the curb so I’m doing circles. Move your ass. Hunter grinned at the screen, though he didn’t fully understand the message. Was Christian picking him up then? This was Christian’s wedding, for God’s sake, and the rehearsal was coming up fast—how did he have time for the half-hour drive out to the airport for Hunter? Well, that didn’t matter—if he was here, he was here, and Hunter would rather spend the time in the car catching up with his best friend than his stepfather anyway. He hurried to type his reply. I’m waiting. Good. Coming back around. Hunter tucked his phone into his pocket and shielded his eyes with his hand again, brushing his dark hair back as he scanned the oncoming traffic for Christian’s Corolla. Between the glare and the sheer number of black sedans, it was hard to pick him out, until a car came to a stop right in front of him and the passenger window rolled down. “Are you gonna get in or what?” yelled Christian’s voice from the shadowy interior of the car. Hunter bent over to see his friend’s face. “It’s about damn time. I’ve just been standing here waiting.” Christian raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand to his gear shift. “I will leave your ass here. Don’t push me.” They stared at each other for a moment, each with narrowed eyes. It was Hunter who cracked first, unable to keep his smile off his face. Christian joined him a second later. “It’s good to see you, man,” Hunter said, thumping the open window frame. “You too. Now put your stuff in the trunk and let’s go. That one little bag is all you have?” Hunter glanced down at his rolling bag. “Yeah. It’s only a weekend.” “Did you roll your tux into a ball to get it to fit in that thing?” Hunter shook his head. “My mom has my tux. She drove down with it. And my guitar. Don’t worry.” “I can’t help it,” Christian said. “There’s been so much going on all day, I’m in a zone. Hurry up and get in. We’re gonna be late.” Hunter slung his rolling bag into the trunk, then dropped into the passenger’s seat and offered his hand to Christian for a slap of greeting. “Thanks for the ride, man.” “No worries.” Christian slid his sunglasses onto his face—Hunter watched with envy—and then pulled into the flow of traffic around the Burbank airport. “I’m glad you were able to make it in time for the rehearsal.” “Yeah, of course.” Hunter flipped the visor down. It helped, a little. “What kind of best man would I be if I missed your damn rehearsal?” Normally Christian would have a joke to respond to that. Today he just pushed a hand through his dark blond hair. Damn, he really was wound tight. Someone who didn’t know him as well as Hunter did might not be able to tell, but to Hunter it was glaringly obvious. It couldn’t be nerves on the eve of his wedding day, right? Not a chance, not with how sickeningly in love Celia and Christian were. Hell, Christian had been talking for four years, almost since the moment he and Celia had officially become a couple, about how he intended to marry Hunter’s cousin when she’d let him. And now that day was finally here. So what was making Christian so edgy? Hunter let it go, at least for now. “Seriously though, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked instead. “I thought Jack was picking me up.” “That was the plan. I volunteered to take over for him.” “There wasn’t anything more important for you to be doing today?” “Honestly?” Christian glanced over at Hunter as he waited