Good with His Hands(12)
Dani pressed her hands to her midsection, not sure if she was going to cry or throw up. An image from last night taunted her, his eyes peering down at her as they moved together. She recalled sardonically how close she'd felt to him. And she hadn't even known his name. His bizarre announcement this morning left her feeling as blindsided as she had the day Tate called off their engagement-maybe more. At least with Tate, there had been some suspicion, some minor foreshadowing.
What was wrong with her? Was she inherently attracted to dishonest men?
Were there any honest ones?
Blood pressure skyrocketing, she scrambled for her cell phone. Meg answered a moment later.
"Thank goodness you called," her friend burbled. "I didn't want to, you know, interrupt anything, but I have been dying of curiosity! Tell me all about the 'best date ever.'"
Not a date, a con. She opened her mouth to say as much, to spew venom and call Sean Grayson every bad word she knew, but, to her horror, only a sob emerged.
"Oh, honey." Meg's cheerful tone immediately switched to concern. "I was hoping a wild night with Hot Architect would be enough to erase Tate from your memory."
Architect? Good Lord. She had no idea what the guy did for a living.
"But I guess," Meg continued, "with it being the weekend of your wedding, it's only-"
"I am not upset about the wedding. Or Tate." She was far too ticked off at Sean to give a damn about the man she was supposed to have exchanged vows with yesterday. Was that the secret to getting over an ex once and for all, finding someone else who enraged you even more? If so, all she needed now was to go out with a guy who stole her car and burned down her apartment, and maybe she could put this latest mistake behind her, too.
Shouldn't be a problem. With her crappy judgment in men, she'd be dating a felon in no time.
* * *
DEEMING THE STORY too surreal to be discussed over the phone, Meg came over, bringing with her a jug of orange juice and a bottle of champagne. "At this hour, I figured our only acceptable options were mimosas or Bloody Marys."
"I'll get cups," Dani said. She'd taken a quick shower, trying not to recall the tenderness with which Sean had washed her hair or the heat of his mouth on her, and changed into yoga pants and a funny T-shirt Meg had given her to make her laugh after the breakup with Tate.
Now, her vision blurred as gratitude swamped her. "What would I do without you? Every time I get screwed over, you come pick up the pieces."
Meg squeezed her shoulder. "You've done the same for me more times than I want to think about." Her luck with men had not been stellar. Some guys were scared off by her effusive personality. Others were attracted to her wholesome appearance and tendency to use exclamations like "fudge!" but felt deceived when they glimpsed her naughtier side.
Dani frequently teased her friend for her use of G-rated substitute expletives. Meg said it had become a lifelong habit because her mother took serious offense to swearing and in a home with five kids, there was always someone waiting to tell on you. "So you won't say hell," Dani had asked once, "but your mom is okay with you and your sister running a store filled with sexy items?"
"My parents aren't prudes. How do you think they got the five kids?"
It was starting to feel like a miracle to Dani that any couple stayed together long enough to have five kids. Two man disasters in the space of a month was a new record. Meg had been putting in a lot of overtime lately in the cheering-up department.
"Seriously," Dani said, "I owe you. I'm beginning to feel like our friendship is one-sided."
"You don't owe me anything. Being your friend is its own reward." Meg gave her a wry smile. "Plus, your life is never dull. Who would have guessed Hot Architect had a Hot Twin?"
Not me. In retrospect, she felt stupid. Hadn't she subconsciously catalogued the ways Sean seemed different, from his unexpectedly outgoing manner to his biceps? But as an only child herself, she'd never given any consideration to whether Bryce had siblings, much less one who was identical.
She and Meg took their champagne-heavy cocktails into the living room, where Dani sat as far from the couch as possible and explained what she could. There were some blanks only Sean could have filled in-such as what he'd been doing at his brother's office on a Saturday afternoon in the first place. By the time she'd shared as many of the details as she could bear repeating, they were on their second round of mimosas.
Meg had kicked off her shoes and sat with her legs tucked under her. "I wonder if he's done it before, pretended to be his brother. Some sets of twins think it's funny to swap places and prank other people."
"What happened between us went beyond a 'prank,'" Dani said stiffly, recalling how foolishly close she'd felt to him. She honestly wasn't sure what ticked her off more, his dishonesty or how dumb she'd been.
Time to use your brains, Yates. A smart woman wouldn't spend another second dwelling on last night or the way he'd touched her. The way he'd coaxed her into laughing and revealing silly anecdotes. The way he'd-
No more! Kicking him out of her thoughts might not be as easy as kicking him out of her apartment this morning, but she would manage it. After all, she was pretty sure that a guy hard-hearted enough to lie about his identity just to get some action wasn't giving her a second thought.
* * *
BY LATE AFTERNOON, Sean had concluded he couldn't stand his own company. Being cooped up with the memory of Dani's stricken expression as she'd ordered him to leave was making him nuts. He called several buddies to see if he could get a poker night going or if anyone wanted to catch the latest spy thriller on the big screen. But all he got were apologies, rain checks and voice-mail recordings. Finally, he stalked out of his town house with no real idea of where he was headed.
Part of him wanted to go straight back to Dani's place, to apologize again now that she'd had a few hours to get past her initial shock. But maybe it would be better to approach her at a neutral location, like her office building. She was predisposed to think badly of him right now. If he confronted her at home, she might decide he was a stalker. He'd shredded her opinion of him enough for one day.
Would she be better off if she'd encountered the real Bryce Grayson yesterday? Bryce wouldn't have gone home with her, but he wouldn't have lied to her, either, wouldn't have put that wounded anger in her eyes. Maybe because Sean was thinking of his brother, or maybe because their shared birthday was tomorrow, he soon found himself rolling up to the security gate at Bryce's condominium. He punched in the security code, wondering if his brother was even at home.
Only one way to find out.
"Sean?" Bryce swung open his front door, his tone confused.
Whatever Sean might have said in greeting disappeared when he noticed the crisp white dress shirt his brother wore with black suit pants. An unknotted bowtie hung around his collar. "You always dress like a 007 wannabe on Sunday afternoons?"
His brother narrowed his eyes, taking in the rumpled T-shirt that had spent all week in the dryer and jeans that were threadbare at the knees. "Criticism from the man who looks like he slept in his clothes?"
Actually, I slept naked. In Dani's arms. Misery clogged his throat, and he swallowed hard. "I need to talk to you." Just as it would have been unconscionable to let Dani run into his twin without first telling her the truth, he should come clean with his brother.
"I'm leaving in the next fifteen minutes," Bryce said, checking his watch. "The firm is hosting a table at a charity auction tonight."
"Can I come in if I promise to make it brief?" Maybe a limited amount of time was best. Fifteen minutes probably wasn't long enough for Bryce to kill him and convincingly stage it to look like an accident.
"All right." Bryce stepped aside, his expression impatient.
The open floor plan of the loft made it seem huge. Gleaming hardwood stretched from the front door to the exposed brick of the back wall. When their mom had badgered Bryce into letting them use the place for their dad's surprise birthday party, Tara had been effusive over Bryce's posh surroundings and view of the Atlanta skyline.
Frowning at the wall opposite them, Sean noticed the expanse of glossy white was broken only by hooks and nails. The framed pictures and set of shelves that had previously hung there were propped against the baseboard below.