Good with His Hands(34)

There was a time Sean might have believed that. As he rose to take his  next turn, he questioned why he felt so discontent. Dani was a fun, sexy  woman who wasn't pressing him to do more with his life or analyze their  every interaction. Why wasn't that enough? When did he get greedy for  more?

When I started falling in love with her.

* * *

BY THE TIME Dani got the text asking if Sean could cook her dinner  Wednesday, she was desperate to see him again. Meg had babysat one of  her nephews on Monday and gone out with Bryce on Tuesday, leaving Dani  plenty of solitary hours to think about Sean, replaying favorite  snippets of conversation in her head and reliving the feel of his body  moving against hers.

She knocked on his front door, flutters of anticipation quickening in  her abdomen. He answered immediately, barefoot in a pair of dark jeans  and wearing an untucked button-down shirt with a plaid dishtowel thrown  over his shoulder.

A grin spread across his face. "Hello, beautiful." He plucked at the  leather strap of her small purse. "Any chance you're carrying another  set of interesting 'pajamas' in there?" The black lace had been a hit.  He'd told her she was stunning in the garment, then promptly ripped it  off her.

"No pajamas necessary. I have an early morning, so I won't be staying  the night." His expression was so crestfallen, she hastily added, "But I  promise you'll like what I'm wearing under the suit. Unless you aren't  in favor of thongs?" she added coyly.

With a growl, he tugged her against him. His tongue delved into her  mouth with such possessive sensuality that she trembled. He slid his  hands over the fabric of her suit skirt, palming her butt. He didn't  break their kiss until an insistent beeping sounded from the kitchen.

"Oven timer," he said ruefully. "I've worked too hard pretending I can cook to let dinner burn."                       
       
           



       

"Well, whatever you're pretending to cook smells wonderful," she said,  catching the aroma of some kind of red-wine sauce. As she followed him  toward the kitchen, she spotted candles on the table. Between two  pillars sat a flower arrangement that was an exact match of the one he'd  sent to her office.

She was caught off guard by the romantic touches. "There's no fairy in  this one." The observation was the first thing she could think of to  say.

"No." He gave her a lopsided smile, full of charm. "She was one of a  kind. I checked the chicken, and it still needs time. Can I pour you  some wine?"

"Yes, please."

He pulled a bottle of chardonnay from the refrigerator and filled the  two glasses that sat on the counter, handing one to her. "I asked Bryce  to suggest a bottle, so it should be excellent."

First the flowers, now expensive wine? In the years she'd dated Tate,  he'd only gone out of his way to cook for her once-the night he'd  proposed. Déjà vu thudded to the pit of her stomach like a rock. "What's  the occasion?"

"You," he said, raising his glass as if toasting her.

His simple declaration left her divided. There was the Dani who was  utterly beguiled by the sincerity in his voice, who wanted to repay his  thoughtfulness by covering him in kisses. Then there was the Dani who  recoiled, afraid that her plan of keeping an emotional safety net was  failing. To keep from saying anything ungrateful, she took a healthy  slug of wine.

"So how's Meg doing?" he asked. "Fully recovered from her breakup?"

"She certainly seemed chipper enough when your brother picked her up  last night." On the one hand, Dani questioned whether her friend had  allowed sufficient recovery time before throwing herself into her next  romantic involvement. But on the other hand, Nolan didn't deserve Meg's  pining, and Bryce seemed to be treating her well. Don't they all, at  first?

Dani cleared her throat. "She, um, found a place to live, but she can't move in until the first of next month."

"Well, if your apartment ever feels cramped, you're always welcome  here," he said. She must have paled or made a face because his eyes  suddenly narrowed. "What? I thought you liked it here?"

"I do."

"Yet I can barely convince you to stay the night. And sometimes when I suggest we spend time together, you give me that look."

"What look?"

"The 'back off, buddy' look that I'm getting right now."

"We did agree to take this slowly," she said defensively.

He set his wineglass down on the counter hard enough to make the liquid  inside slosh wildly. "Slow isn't the same as stagnant. We spent the  night together on our first date. At some point, don't you think there's  a natural progression from there?"

"T-to what?" she asked, scared to know the answer. Living together? Marriage? Inevitable heartbreak?

"I don't know." He shoved a hand through his hair. "To a place where I  can suggest you bring a curling iron over and get ready for work here  without you freaking out and pushing me away."

"I..." She instinctively wanted to deny his words, but the truth was,  she thought this would work better with some degree of distance. "I'm  not thinking in terms of curling irons and your giving me drawer space. I  was just looking for fun."

The words, which had previously seemed harmless, now rang hollow. Almost cruel. Sean sucked in a breath, his eyes hurt.

He laughed, and it was a harsh sound, full of disbelief and contempt.  "You're a lot like my last girlfriend, you know that? She thought I was  fun, too. A good time. Those were her exact words. Not a legitimate  prospect for ever sharing her life with, but a talented lay for sharing  her bed."

"That's not fair!" She didn't know what sickened her more-that he might  actually see himself like that or that he could somehow believe she  did.

"No, what isn't fair is falling for a woman who..." He looked bleakly  past her, at the immaculately set table, then met her eyes. "I'm not  looking for something as shallow as fun. I want more than that. I  deserve more than that," he said quietly.

Her eyes burned with frustration and unshed tears. She was furious with  herself for ruining the nice dinner he'd planned and furious with him  for pushing for more than she could give. It had been simpler when they  were two strangers shooting pool, interested in a little hot sex with no  strings.

"You knew when I met you," she said softly, "that I wasn't looking for a  relationship. I wasn't looking for roses or commitment or fancy wine."                       
       
           



       

"You think I was?" He glanced away, his lips twisting in a sad smile.  "I was not looking for you, Danica Yates. And finding you has been  something of a mixed blessing. I think you should probably go."

"What?" The unexpected rejection sent her reeling. She waved her hand  in a vague gesture, trying to encompass both the table behind them and  the food that was still cooking. "But you went to all this work."

"Yeah," he agreed sadly. "I worked hard to get you to forgive me, to  get you to go out with me. I'm done now. The truth is, you can't give me  what I need."

"Are you...breaking up with me?" she asked, feeling a little lost.

"I'm not sure you can call it that. Breaking up implies we had a real  relationship to begin with." He said it with more regret than anger, and  she almost wished he was yelling. Fighting would be easier than this  remorse bubbling up inside her like acid. She'd hurt him.

Her vision swam, and she knew she had to get out of here if she didn't  want him to see her cry. But she couldn't leave him thinking that he'd  been no more to her than a random sexual partner. "Sean, you have to  know that...I care about you." The words came out stiff and flat, not  doing her emotions justice.

"The fact that you can barely admit that much is why we shouldn't see  each other again." He took a step forward, moving close just long enough  to drop a kiss to her forehead. "Goodbye, Dani."

* * *

WHEN THE DOOR to the apartment opened, Meg and Bryce sprang apart in  surprise. Shoot. Meg had been so sure he was about to kiss her for the  first time. Why was Dani back so soon? Meg hadn't expected her home for  hours.

She rose from the couch, not meeting Bryce's gaze for fear a blush  would flame across her face. She'd really wanted him to kiss her.  "Forget your cell phone or something?" she called to her roommate.

Dani's face was pale, her eyes stricken. "Or something."

Meg's heart sank. "You guys had a fight?"

"He told me to go. He said..." Her gaze briefly lit on Bryce, then  flitted away as if looking at him was painful. "Never mind, you two  carry on. I'm going to bed early and won't be a bother to anyone."