Good with His Hands (8 page)

“What can I do for you, Judy?”

“Not for me.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, her eyes the size of silver dollars. “For
him
. You'll never believe who's here to see you!” She dropped her voice again. By the time she added, “Hot Architect,” Dani was lipreading.

Bryce Grayson had come to see her? Unlikely.

Sean.

Her heart thudded madly in her chest. She told herself it was an adrenaline surge caused by anger. There was absolutely no part of her that was eager to see him; she had more self-respect than that. More willpower. She couldn't undo Tate cheating on her or her stolen weekend with Sean, but she could learn from her mistakes.
No more liars for me.

“Danica?” Judy prompted. “Do you want me to show him in?”

Hell, no. But dodging him felt cowardly. He was the one who should have difficulty facing her, not the other way around.

Clearing her throat, she straightened in her chair. “By all means.”

Radiating unabashed curiosity over the visit, Judy ushered him into the office. It was definitely Sean, although he looked more like his brother than the last time she'd seen him. He wore a black polo shirt and khaki pants. He was clean shaven, and his hair was smoothed into a more conservative style. Still, those were superficial resemblances outweighed by glaring differences. She'd never confuse the two men again. Too bad she hadn't known Bryce was a twin on Saturday.

His gaze went straight to hers, the connection between them jolting.
Get over it
, she told her hormones. She warned her clients all the time not to be beguiled by an attractive exterior that could hide an alarming number of flaws. Sean Grayson was definitely not up to code.

She gestured toward the guest chairs on the other side of her desk. “Have a seat,
Gray.
” She couldn't stop herself from sneering the nickname.

Judy gaped as if Dani had sprouted a second head—one with glowing red eyes and a skull covered in live snakes. The receptionist backed away slowly. “I, uh, was just headed home for the day, so...”

“Would you mind closing the door on your way out?” Dani requested in a gentler tone. Whatever Sean had to say, she didn't want anyone to overhear. Yet once the door was shut, she regretted her request. Being alone with him felt too intimate. Seconds scraped by in painful silence.

Instead of sitting, he rocked on the balls of his feet. “I wasn't trying to mislead you when I said my name was Gray. My friends really do call me that.”

She would never use the nickname again. They weren't friends. “You want an honesty medal just because you didn't set out to mislead me?”

“What I want is to apologize. I understand if you don't forgive—”

“If?”
She gripped the edge of her desk. “As in, you think there's a possibility I will? That just proves we jumped into bed too quickly. Because if you knew me at all, you'd understand how big a deal lying is.” She didn't add that lying was only one of his crimes against her. The other, more humiliating one was how he'd made her feel foolish for falling so fast. How many times had she admonished Meg to look before she leaped instead of giving her heart away casually?

Not that I gave him my heart!
Sharing a sweaty, naked night with someone wasn't the same as falling in love. But she'd definitely been able to envision falling for him down the road. What had happened to her usual caution? The way he'd slipped past her defenses, effortlessly seducing her into lowering her guard, was unforgivable.

“This isn't actually a good time to talk,” she said tightly. “I have a dinner date.”

The muscles in his jaw visibly clenched. Was he bothered by the idea of her going out with another man, or did he think she was fibbing in order to get rid of him?
There's only one liar in this room.

Whatever was running through his head, he tamped down his temper. In contrast to the blue fire in his eyes, his voice was pure courtesy. “Would there be a better time for us to talk?”

“I have a lot of showings this week,” she evaded. “I'm surprised you even caught me in the office.”

“It wasn't a coincidence. I saw your car in the lot when I drove by. And when I say drove by, I mean went three blocks out of my way to check if your car was here.” He shoved a hand through his hair, making parts of it stand on end and eliminating some of the resemblance to his refined brother. “If I could go back and change things, Dani...”

She flinched. In the privacy of her apartment, his saying her name had been like a verbal caress. Now, it was insult on top of injury.

His gaze was a raw plea. “I can't stop thinking about you.”

“Try. Very hard.” She jerked her eyes away from his, refusing to be swayed. He looked genuinely sorry, but Tate had sounded sorry when he called to say he couldn't marry her, too. After-the-fact apologies were no reason to cave. Neither were mesmerizing blue eyes. Where was her self-discipline? She was the Major's daughter, a former basketball star who'd played an entire final quarter on a sprained ankle. “I don't want to see you again.”

He sucked in a breath, his expression mutinous.

“Nothing you say is going to erase what happened,” she interjected before he could speak. “And my father is meeting me here in a matter of minutes. You need to be gone before he arrives. He probably knows fifty ways to kill you with a paper clip.” She picked one up off her desk and brandished it in warning.

“Worried about my safety?” Sean's lips twitched in a wan smile. “That must mean you care about me a little.”

“I just don't want to risk blood in the carpet. My clients would find that off-putting.”

Thinking she might evict him faster if she physically escorted him out, she rose and came around her desk.
Strategic fail.
She'd overestimated her immunity to his nearness. As she got closer, she noticed how good he smelled. She imagined she could feel the heat from his body. She certainly felt the heat in his gaze.

He stared at her, charged silence crackling around them. For a second, she thought he might be reckless enough to reach for her. What would she do if he tried to kiss her? The idea that he might be just that unpredictable—or that, worse, her body might be traitorous enough to respond—spurred her into action.

Giving him a wide berth, she hurried to the door, breathing easier once it was open again. “You shouldn't come back to this office unless you're selling a house. Or buying one.” She flashed a saccharine smile. “In which case, I'd be happy to recommend one of my colleagues.”

Shoulders slumped, he headed toward the doorway. Seeing him dejected felt unnatural, like seeing a majestic wild animal caged. Errant compassion tried to surface, but she squelched it.

He paused beside her, a sad half smile playing about his lips. “You know, it's my birthday. At least I know what to wish for.”

He'd told her he was turning thirty-four today. With all that had happened, she'd forgotten.

Standing this close to him, recalling what it felt like to be in his arms, she couldn't help wishing things were different, too. But she resolutely brushed away the pointless what-ifs. “I don't back down, Mr. Grayson. No amount of wishing is going to change that.”

“Probably not.” He stepped out of her office, throwing her one last look over his shoulder, this one displaying more of his usual spark. “But stranger things have happened.”

* * *

D
ANI
AND
HER
dad had a favorite Italian restaurant near the Perimeter. The food was well worth the inevitable traffic, but he picked her up at her office so they could at least catch up while they sat sandwiched between semitrailers and frustrated moms in SUVs. Unfortunately, that also gave them a lot of time alone without the distraction of deciding what to order or enjoying their dinner. His chatter about a recent bowling tournament and a summer fishing trip he was planning with other retired Army buddies only took them so far. He kept turning the conversation back to her life, unappeased by her declarations of how much she loved her job.

“That's work, Danica Leigh. I want to know about
you
. Your personal life.”

No, you really don't.

He switched lanes to get them closer to their approaching exit. “You don't look like you've been sleeping well.” Trust the eagle-eyed Major to notice—and be blunt enough to comment on it. “The thought of you pining for that no-good... I know a West Point guy who went on to be CIA. I bet if I call in a few favors, we could have Malcom disappear.”

She laughed. “Don't say things like that at the restaurant. If someone overhears, they may not realize you're joking.”

Her father shot her a pointed look.

“Dad, I am not heartbroken over Tate Malcom. I wish him and the new missus health and happiness.” Well, happiness might be a stretch. But she didn't wish that an anvil would fall on either of them anymore or that Tate would suddenly contract a rare wasting disease. “He wasn't right for me. Honestly, looking back, I'm a little surprised you liked him.” Looking back, she was surprised
she'd
liked him.

But Tate was attractive and deceptively charming. They had similar backgrounds and compatible long-term goals, so in sync on the big issues that she'd overlooked seemingly trivial irritations. When you found a guy who whole-heartedly supported your career, shared your philosophies on life and knew what it was like to grow up with only one parent, how much should it matter that he got cranky when you wore high heels?

Her father was mulling over her statement about liking Tate. “He may not have been specifically who I would have chosen for you, but I trusted your judgment. You've always had a good head on your shoulders.”

Heat rose in her cheeks as she recalled her wild weekend. Yeah, she was the epitome of careful judgment. She squirmed in the passenger seat, feeling as though she was sixteen again, on the verge of being busted.

“But if he wasn't the One, well, there are other fish in the sea,” he added.

Dani rolled her eyes. “We've got ‘good head on my shoulders' and ‘other fish.' We just need ‘where one door closes, another opens' for the cliché hat trick.”

Her father grinned. “Smart-ass.”

“I know there are other fish, but I don't think I'm interested in recasting anytime soon.” She should take the advice she frequently gave Meg about not rushing headlong into anything. Her rash impulse to take Sean home with her had been a total mistake.

Really? Because it was the best night you've had in...
All right, an enjoyable error in judgment, but an error all the same.

“You do still want to get married?” her dad pressed. “I'd hate to see you live your life alone just because Malcom's too dumb to know what he had.”

“I haven't technically sworn off men for all time, but I'm in no hurry to race down the aisle.”

He didn't respond, but he was scowling, which surprised her.

“Is this you being anxious to have grandchildren?” she asked. “Because you didn't bring me up to believe I needed a man.”

“Of course you don't ‘need' one. I just want you to be happy. Being alone is...” His eyes were fixed straight ahead, but she didn't get the impression he was looking at the cars in front of them.

“Dad, did you ever think about remarrying?” There had been a few girlfriends who'd drifted through their life, but as far as Dani could tell, none of those relationships had ever come close to getting serious.

“Not really. Your mom was my one great love. I want that for you, too. I guess I've been so worried about this Tate thing because I was afraid you were like me. That you might not experience true love twice.” A surprisingly boyish smile creased his face. “When I met Gina, I was so over the moon for her. Couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't think straight.”

“And this is what you want for me?” she asked drily. She was already lacking sleep and appetite, and her train of thought had fallen off the tracks multiple times today. It was not an enjoyable state.

“Well. The infatuation part fades into something deeper,” her dad said. “Something everyone should have.”

That definitely didn't describe what she'd had with Tate.
And Sean?
If he hadn't lied to her, would the all-consuming, gotta-have-you-now attraction between them have burned itself out or eventually evolved into something more?
Guess we'll never know.
For the first time since he'd walked out of her apartment yesterday morning, she felt a flicker of relief. After almost marrying the wrong man, she was skittish about getting seriously involved with anyone else, not ready to trust her judgment on anything more than a casual fling.

Whatever might have happened between her and Sean, it was impossible to imagine it being casual.

* * *

S
EAN
WAITED
AS
his friend fished a quarter out of his pocket so they could flip for break. The bar was pretty dead on a Tuesday night, so they'd had their pick of pool tables. Although, they could have just stayed upstairs and had a drink—Sean wasn't deluded enough to believe he'd be able to concentrate on the game.

“How'd you find this place?” Alex asked. “It's...quaint.” He wasn't being condescending, only expressing genuine surprise. Like Sean, Alex Juarez was single. This was more the kind of neighborhood place they frequented when they were out with the married guys on the crew, instead of bars where women tended to be looking for company.

“A friend brought me here. I liked it.” The real question was, what had drawn him back here tonight? Had he subconsciously wanted to relive the memory of shooting pool with Dani, or was he hoping to engineer an “accidental” run-in with her?
As if she wouldn't see through that lameness in about two seconds flat.