Good with His Hands (9 page)

Well, he'd failed with the direct approach at her office yesterday. And she'd already thrown him out of her apartment. He was running out of options.
This is sad, man. Keep it up and you'll be getting a restraining order as a belated birthday present.

Alex flipped the coin, which landed on tails, leaving Sean the break. But his muscles tensed, and it was a crap shot, barely disrupting the balls.

“Hijole.”
Alex glanced at him with wide eyes, then snickered. “What happened to the great Gray? My nine-year-old niece breaks better than that. No one on the crew's gonna believe me.”

“Maybe you should have recorded a video on your phone,” Sean grumbled, stepping aside.

“What's going on with you?” Alex tapped a pocket, took his shot and missed. “You're preoccupied. Like right there!”

Sean blinked. “Right what?”

“You were busy staring up there.” Alex pointed past the railing toward the top half of the split-level bar. “Didn't even see me make my shot,” he said slyly.

“Nice try,” Sean countered. “You missed. Good aim. Not enough follow-through.”

The other man shrugged. “Worth a try. What are you looking at, anyway? Hot girl? Did you bring me here because you're planning to make a move on one of the waitresses?”

“No.” He couldn't even say with certainty whether the woman who'd brought them their drinks had been a blonde, a brunette or a redhead. He'd been too busy glancing toward the entrance, fingers mentally crossed.

“So what gives? You were distracted on the site today, too.”

Distraction and power tools were a bad combination. Most of his duties these days were supervisory and administrative, but, still, his crew deserved better from him. He just needed to find a way to stop obsessing over Dani. She was like a splinter under his thumb he couldn't reach. Or a song stuck in his head. He fell asleep with the tune playing on a loop and woke up with it still there. It had been a long time since a woman had gotten to him like this.

Was his extreme reaction because of guilt? He recalled the way she'd moaned when he was inside her, the way she'd arched against him, unashamedly craving his touch. Nope, guilt was definitely not the only reason he couldn't stop thinking about her. “Ever have a woman you couldn't get off your mind?”

Alex stilled, his expression disbelieving. “Is this about that high-maintenance blonde you were dating?”

“Tara? Hell, no. She's out of my life for good.” More or less. He'd see her in passing next weekend. She'd wheedled a favor out of him before they broke up, and since it was for a good cause, he'd decided to honor the obligation. But aside from their paths crossing that one last time, he doubted he'd run into her again. She spent about as much time in his favorite bars as he did buying designer clothes at Lenox Square. “I was talking about someone different.”

Different
was accurate on many levels. Dani's mannerisms were unlike many of the women he'd dated. No other one-night stand had ever affected him like this.

“So you're hung up on a new lady,” Alex surmised. “Have you told her? Women dig that, makes you seem vulnerable. You could get very lucky.”

“She knows.” It was almost cringe-worthy, the way he'd opened up to her yesterday and been shot down. “And she's not interested.”

Alex whistled. “Failing with women
and
at pool? Damn. Well, if she isn't interested, you know the saying. Best way to get over someone is under someone else.”

Far from convincing him to seek out another woman's attention, the statement only reminded him of meeting Dani.
“My fiancé eloped last weekend with the woman he was seeing on the side... I need to have a really good time and forget the whole mess... Want to help generate a little amnesia?”
She'd been incredibly, disarmingly candid.

Too bad he hadn't returned the favor.

With that sour thought, he resolved to focus on the game. He could count on one hand the number of times Alex had beat him at pool, and he didn't intend to simply hand him another victory. Several turns later, when Alex lifted his cue a fraction too soon after a draw shot, Sean saw his opportunity to pull ahead. But then he heard a man upstairs call out, “Hey, Danny,” and he knocked the cue ball off the table. When he turned around, he saw that the guy had been greeting another man. Not Danica.

Alex won the game handily, his grin mocking when he asked, “Play again?”

“Nah. We have an early morning.”

“Plus, you can't play for crap tonight.”

“That, too.”

They paid their tab and headed for the exit. On the way out, a curvy redhead grinned in Sean's direction. He tried to muster an answering smile, but the effort was so weak Alex cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Whoever this new woman is,” Alex said in the parking lot, “you must really be hung up on her.”

“Seems like.” The question was, how did he win her forgiveness? On the surface, Sean might not be as overtly successful as his brother, but the truth was, he simply cared about different things. When he set his mind to something, he was persistent. And nine times out of ten, he accomplished what he set out to do.

It's only been a couple of days.
With a little patience and luck, he'd figure out something. Granted, Dani was stubborn. But perhaps she'd met her match.

* * *

T
HE
FIRST
STREET
in the Magnolia Groves subdivision was lined with luxurious new homes. Colorful flowers bloomed along front porches, and a trim woman in yoga pants pushed a stroller along the sidewalk. But as Dani turned onto the second street, manicured lawns gave way to red Georgia dirt, unfinished wooden structures and cement foundations. The pristine model home looked almost out of place amid the active construction.

In the lot next to the model home was a trailer sporting the building company logo. A familiar looking blonde was coming down the steps. Dani recognized her as Lydia Reynolds, who worked for another brokerage. The two women had done deals together before, but Lydia rarely concentrated on brand-new subdivisions. She was considered quite the expert on foreclosures.

Dani waved as Lydia approached. “Nice to see you.”

Lydia air-kissed her. “Here to register clients? The builder's agent called in sick today, but the site supervisor gave me a walk-through of the prototype.” She lowered her voice to a confidential whisper. “Between you and me, it was hard to concentrate on the features of the house instead of looking at him.
Nice.
”

Laughing, Dani told the other woman they should meet for drinks soon.
Just not at the bar near my place.
It was going to be a long while before Dani could go in there without remembering her night with Sean, which was neither fair nor logical. She'd been to that bar dozens of times. Why should an isolated night stand out more starkly than any of the instances that had come before it?

As Lydia climbed into her car, Dani strode toward the trailer, her newest pair of open-toed pumps clicking on the sidewalk. She'd bought them yesterday; the buckles at the ankle and studs on the T-strap made her feel like a bad-ass. In her mind, she wore them with black jeans, a leather jacket and a shirt that said “Mess with Me at Your Peril” instead of a fitted jersey dress. “Danica?”

She whipped her head around, sure she must be imagining his voice. Maybe it was another real-estate agent she knew, one who happened to sound like Sean. But, no, there he was. In the flesh. He was right behind her, at the bottom of the trailer stairs.

It took her a moment to find her voice. “Wh-what are you doing here?” But she'd already noticed the logo on the chambray button-down he wore with the sleeves rolled up.

“I work here.” A smile spread across his face. “I'm the lead builder for Magnolia Grove.”

She blinked, her thoughts a chaotic jumble. At least now she knew what he did for a living.

 

8

D
ANI
'
S
TONGUE
SEEMED
stuck to the roof of her mouth.
Be a professional. You've dealt with builders before.
Dealt with, yes. Slept with, no.

“I, uh... The Andersens.” She was relieved she remembered the name of the couple interested in upgrading to a larger house. “I wanted to take a look around and, if the neighborhood meets their criteria, schedule a showing.”

“Absolutely.” He crossed his arms across his chest, and she was annoyed that her gaze went to the tanned muscles displayed. “I realize I'm biased, but Magnolia Grove is shaping up to be a very nice place to live. You look fantastic.”

The compliment caught her off guard. It was difficult to remind herself that their exchange was strictly professional when his expression was so personal.

He gestured toward the trailer door. “After you.”

Considering the temptation of being alone with him in her office Monday, going into the trailer now seemed like a bad idea. “I think I'd rather do a walk-through of the house.”

He smirked but said nothing as he retreated down the steps. The sunlight glinted off his hair, highlighting a few golden strands, and she cursed the general unfairness of the universe. As tough as it had been to resist him on Monday while staring into those earnest blue eyes, she'd risen to the challenge. Test passed, level cleared. She was free to move forward.

Yet here he was again.

You withstood his charm last time, you will again.
It would only get easier with time, right?

Could he see her tension, her rigid posture as she matched his stride? He opened the front door of the model home, and a static charge ran down her body as she passed him.

She took a deep breath, willing herself to relax. It didn't work.
Maybe I should join Meg for one of those yoga classes she's always trying to drag me to.
A list of standard questions ran through her head, their familiarity comforting. This wouldn't be like the awkward confrontation in her office. She didn't have to flounder with what to say; she had a script. Fighting for composure, she turned to face him.

His mouth was curled into a satisfied grin that made him look entirely too smug.
And sexy.

She huffed out a breath. “What?”

“I was just taking a moment to thank her.”

Oh, fun. Mind games. “Her, who?”

His grin widened, humor gleaming in his eyes. “The fairy godmother
I
obviously have, since here you are.”

“Guys don't get fairy godmothers. It isn't manly.”

“Sexist.”

“I'm here to talk about the subdivision,” she said. “Not us.”

“At least you're acknowledging the possibility of us. That's progress.”

“No, I—”

“So this is a six-bedroom house,” he began, walking from the foyer toward the back of the house, leaving her little choice but to follow. “Three and a half baths.”

“Actually, would you mind if I look around by myself for a little bit and make some notes? Then I'll have a better idea of what I want from you. I mean,” she amended quickly, “what questions I want to ask.”

“Sure.” His smiling, self-assured air faded into something more solemn but no less alluring. “If you need some time and space, I can give you that. But you know where to find me when you're ready.”

* * *

F
OR
THE
MOST
PART
,
Dani felt as if she left Magnolia Grove with her dignity intact. When she'd finished her cursory inspection of the house and asked Sean a couple of questions about amenities, she'd sounded poised. Hopefully, he would accept that she'd put their passionate night behind her.

It would be nice if at least one of them could believe she had.

Truthfully, seeing him had unbalanced her. Work was her sanctuary. The last thing she'd expected was to interact with him on the job. It left her vaguely off-kilter for the next couple of hours.

When she joined Spencer and Judy for lunch in one of their meeting rooms, she kept losing her place in the conversation, her thoughts reverting to Sean. How was it fair that he looked equally sexy when he was being playful or sincere? And she felt as though she'd seen him in his element now. He'd spoken about the subdivision with genuine pride. It was obvious he cared about his work as much as she did hers.

“Danica?” Spencer's tone was quizzical. “Don't you have a closing today?”

Her gaze shot to the clock on the wall. “Oh,
hell
. That's the time already?” It was still theoretically possible that she wouldn't be late, but she liked to allow plenty of time for unpredictable traffic.

Moving like a whirling dervish, she cleaned up her fast-food debris, gathered some files from her office, hoisted her purse onto her shoulder and darted through the reception area. At the far end of the hallway, the elevator doors were starting to slide closed.

“Hold the elevator, please!” She liked her strappy pumps slightly less at the moment—they weren't optimal for jogging. But, check mark in the lucky column, someone in the elevator had heard her. The doors reversed direction. And she found herself face-to-face with Bryce Grayson.

She smothered a groan.

His eyes widened. “You.” He took a reflexive step farther away, looking even less eager to be in her presence than he had the morning she'd almost caused him to spill his coffee. At the moment, he didn't really live up to his moniker. He was more Wary Architect.

“I'm guessing your brother mentioned me, then?” She glanced at the ceiling, wishing she'd ignored the opportunity to jump on the elevator and had stuck to her usual custom of taking the stairs. How much had Sean revealed? Did Bryce know that she'd slept with his brother believing it was him?

“Yes, he did.” He cleared his throat. “Skimmed over the details, but I, uh, got the idea. I was shocked—no one ever confuses the two of us.”

Because her mistake was somehow more shocking than a guy seducing her under a false identity? “Well, you are identical.” Sort of. “I mean, until someone gets to know you.”

“But you and I
don't
know each other. So why would you believe...” He paused, looking as if he found this entire exchange distasteful. “Have I ever done anything that would lead you to think—”

Ding.

Oh, thank the sweet Lord. They'd reached the ground floor.

“I don't make a habit of going home with women I don't know,” he blurted as the doors parted.

She was torn between wanting to defend herself—explaining that it had been atypical behavior for her, too—and vehemently telling herself she didn't owe the judgmental guy any explanation at all.

Since she was already running late, she limited her reply to a tight smile and a clipped, “You have a nice day.” But as she turned toward the parking lot, she couldn't refrain from asking, “You are just twins, right? Not triplets or anything?”

His forehead crinkled in a frown. “Right.”

“Good.” She'd hit her quota on Grayson brothers for the day. Two was bad enough. Having to deal with a third would be enough to drive a girl to a psychotic break.

* * *

B
EMUSED
, B
RYCE
G
RAYSON
watched as the brunette bolted across the parking lot. His own vehicle was in the opposite direction, and he was due for a late lunch downtown.

As he started his car, he pondered Danica Yates; he'd made it a point to find out her last name after Sean shared his sordid tale. The real-estate agent was a far cry from Sean's last lover, the bubbly blonde who was involved with several good causes. Bryce had seen her at one or two charity events. He didn't know what to make of Danica, but she was not bubbly.

She'd seemed nice enough the few times their paths had crossed, but he couldn't imagine what he'd said or done that would have made her think he was trying to get her into bed. Bryce was appalled by his brother's actions. And since Sean had seduced her in
his
name, he couldn't help feeling a sense of responsibility. If he'd led Ms. Yates on, if he'd somehow had a hand in making his brother's lie believable...

When she'd stepped onto the elevator, he hadn't known what to do. He'd felt an irrational need to apologize. It grated, after so many years of trying to do the right thing, that he would find himself having to say he was sorry on behalf of his brother. Let Sean clean up his own messes.

He wondered if Ms. Yates's sharp-tongued responses were misplaced anger. Maybe she was taking out her frustration with Sean on Bryce since they looked alike. Bryce had no idea how to appease her, and not knowing how to proceed made him awkward. One of the reasons he was so good at his detail-oriented job was that he preferred clear cut policies that outlined exactly what to do. Trying to figure out what to say to Ms. Yates had knotted his stomach.

Judging by the way she'd stalked off, the conversation had been no more pleasant on her end.

Given how far out of his depth he was in this social situation, maybe he should start coming to work a few minutes earlier and leaving later. Avoiding her was manageable. The question of his brother, however, was more irksome. Buried among memories of Sean's thoughtlessness were also recollections of friendship. They'd been close once.

By the time Bryce had finished unwrapping that art print Sean had commissioned for his birthday, he'd had a lump in his throat. But when he'd picked up the phone to thank his twin, he'd been immobilized by his brother's words.
You think about yourself enough for the both of us.

Part of Bryce mourned the loss of their boyhood friendship. But they were men now. If he weren't related to Sean and happened to meet him as an adult, was there any logical basis for friendship? As far as he could tell, they didn't have a damn thing in common.

* * *

D
ANI
PULLED
INTO
the shaded parking lot, amazed that the capricious gods of Atlanta traffic had bestowed their favor on her.
And I didn't even have to sacrifice a virgin or slay a Gorgon.
She arrived at the attorney's office with time to spare.

Erik's office suite was on the third floor, and his secretary nodded a friendly hello when Dani stepped inside.

“He's in conference room two,” the secretary said. “I'll send the Kenners back when they arrive. And nice shoes!”

“Thanks.” Dani grinned. “Yesterday's impulse buy.” Well, semi impulsive. She'd worn out her last pair of favorite black pumps, and she'd had an online coupon for that particular shoe store. Spur-of-the-moment wasn't her typical style. Coming on to Sean Grayson had been an anomaly.

Even then, there had been extenuating circumstances and she never would have done it if she hadn't already been somewhat attracted to Bryce. Based on his half-finished question in the elevator, when he'd wondered what he'd done to make her think he was interested, that attraction had clearly been one-sided. The funny thing was, having seen Sean and Bryce in the same day, it was hard to pinpoint why she'd found Bryce so attractive in the first place. Now, he seemed like a pale imitation of his brother. Sean was—

Off-limits. Remember?

Banishing him from her thoughts, she entered the conference room.

“Danica.” Erik stepped forward to shake her hand, his smile warm. “Would you like something to drink?” A pitcher of water sat on a small counter to the side of the wide mahogany table, and a pot of coffee was plugged into the wall.

“Water would be great, thanks.”

He poured her a glass, but when he handed it to her, a flash of apprehension crossed his gaze.

“Is everything okay?” she asked. There shouldn't be any last-minute surprises at closing. She glanced toward the papers on the table. “If there's some kind of problem—”

“No, no problem.”

“Oh. Sorry. I thought you looked...nervous.”

“Did I?” He rubbed a hand across his jaw. “Guess it's been a while since I asked a woman out.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You wanted to ask me out?”

“It doesn't have to be a date in the romantic sense,” he said quickly. “My sister's on the committee for an upcoming benefit, and she talked me into buying a couple of tickets. It's to raise money for a group that provides summer meals for kids who qualify for free meals during the school year but are left with a two-to three-month nutritional gap. Anyway. There's a summer-themed fashion show and dinner at the country club two Saturdays from now.” He was trying to keep his tone casual, but there was a hint of vulnerability in his gaze.

She knew what it was like to put yourself out there, recalling the excruciating moment on Saturday when she'd assumed Sean's pause was a precursor for telling her no. Had he been trying to decide how to tell her she had the wrong guy?

“Erik, I appreciate the invitation, but you and I work together quite a bit. Dating someone who's a part of my professional life could be...” She relived the shock she'd felt when Sean walked around the corner of the model home this morning. It had hit her with nearly physical force.

“I understand. But I do still have that extra ticket.” He smiled sheepishly. “And Margot's going to be there with her new boyfriend. I'd much rather take a friend than show up alone.”

“Ah.” The catch in his voice when he said his ex-wife's name was unmistakable. Maybe the reason he lacked practice asking out women was because he hadn't yet gotten over Margot. “In that case, let me check my schedule and get back to you. If I'm free, I'd love to go. As a friend.”

Schedule permitting, she'd be happy to help him out. He was funny and articulate and well liked. Best of all, he wasn't a Grayson.