Good with His Hands(36)

* * *

"NO." BRYCE GRAYSON scanned the hallway nervously as if searching for  exit options. But to get to the elevator, he would have to get past  Dani. "Meg said you might come to me seeking help, but the answer is  no."

In the week since Dani's dinner with Erik, she'd done a lot of  thinking. About Sean. About love. About being braver and trusting her  heart. But since Sean wasn't returning her phone calls, she hadn't had  much chance to tell him. She'd shown up at the Magnolia Grove site once,  ambushing him the way he had in her office so long ago, but he'd said  there was a foundation emergency that required his attention. Then he'd  told her Alex could answer any questions she had about the housing  development.

Alex's sympathetic eyes and soft "give him time" were kind but hadn't  made her feel any better. It had been Meg's suggestion that they ask  Bryce for help, but he was proving uncooperative. If there was a silver  lining in any of this, it seemed to be that Bryce and Sean were closer  than they'd been in years.

"I know you don't want to be disloyal to your brother," she said, "and I  applaud that. But I'm having a hard time getting through to him."

"Oh, you got through to him. You wrecked him. Guys have a lot of pride," he said. "He put himself out there-"

"Bryce." She held up a hand. "I love your brother. I am going to tell  him that with or without your help, but I'd like to do it in a way that  doesn't involve my leaving it in a voice mail or in front of an  audience. He said once that you didn't understand why he kept fighting  for me, why he didn't just give up. But he was stubborn."

The corner of his mouth kicked up in a reluctant grin. "Always has been."

"Well, I am equally stubborn. It's one of the things that is going to make us a great match. Now that I've, um..."

"Pulled your head out of your ass?" he supplied, eyes dancing with humor.

"Meg mentioned that, huh?" She smiled back at him, feeling a burgeoning  sense of camaraderie. "Bryce. Please. If you can help me get five  minutes alone with him, I can say what I need to. After that, if he  decides..." She blinked furiously. The past week and a half without him  had sucked too tremendously to contemplate his continued absence from  her life.

Bryce considered her plea. "Around a month ago, my brother got help  sneaking into a locked room to leave me a gift. It occurs to me now," he  said mischievously, "that I never returned the favor."                       
       
           



       

* * *

FRANKLY, SEAN DIDN'T want to go home, but after Alex and several other  friends all canceled plans at the last minute, he couldn't think of  where else to go. He wasn't stupid enough to go drinking without a  designated driver, he lacked the charm and energy to flirt with women  and he was avoiding his parents, not ready to tell his mom he'd broken  up with Dani. He'd tried calling Bryce, who'd been surprisingly  supportive lately, but his brother hadn't answer the phone. No doubt his  twin was canoodling somewhere with Meg.

A sharp pain twisted inside as Sean unlocked his front door. He was  screwed if Bryce and Meg got married, because he couldn't see her or  think about her without being reminded of Dani. Of course, working in  the Magnolia Grove subdivision also reminded him of Dani. Maybe he  needed a mini vacation somewhere out of her daily sphere. Like the  Yukon.

He knew she'd tried calling him, but he didn't trust himself to pick up  the phone. He was caught between wanting more than she had to offer yet  doubting he could resist her if she tried to seduce him. He stepped  inside the town house, surprised by the spill of light from upstairs. He  didn't remember leaving that on, but he'd been in a preoccupied haze.  Maybe that was why Alex's plans had suddenly-and unconvincingly-altered;  Sean was such an easy mark that it wasn't even fun to beat him at pool  these days.

But then Dani appeared at the railing that overlooked the first floor.  He stared hard, seriously hoping he wasn't hallucinating. He didn't  think he was that far gone.

"Sean." She made his name an endearment, and he regretted ever telling  her to call him Gray. That was for people like Alex. The casual nickname  was far too impersonal for this woman who'd wrung out his heart.

"How did you get in here?" It was the simplest question. He wasn't ready to voice his others.

"Your brother said to tell you that turnabout is fair play. Are you  coming up, or should I come down?" she asked, trying to sound in charge.  Even from this distance, her vulnerability was unmistakable. She was  afraid of being hurt. If she'd been less afraid, they could have had  something special together.

He shook his head. "I should probably turn around and leave."

"Well, it's your place. You'd have to come back eventually. And there's something up here I want to show you."

"If it's rose petals on the bed or something lacy from Meg's shop, you  should know I'm not sleeping with you." He was glad he sounded more  resolute than he felt. Because, damn, she looked good in that green wrap  dress, her hair spilling over her shoulders in untamed waves.

She flinched at the verbal rejection. "It's not rose petals or anything  lacy," she promised solemnly. "I'm here to talk, not lure you into  bed."

Yet she wanted him to come to the bedroom for this little chat? Filled  with suspicion, he went up the stairs. As he got closer, he noticed the  shimmer in her eyes and recalled Meg warning him not to make her cry.  That had never been his intention. He'd wanted to spoil Dani rotten.  He'd wanted to satisfy her every sexual need and pamper her with  attention outside the bedroom. She made him want to be chivalrous,  unless they were in a pool hall. He respected her enough as an opponent  to kick her ass without holding back.

"I miss you," she said huskily.

He missed her, too, with an unparalleled ache. He could bash his thumb  with a hammer repeatedly and never achieve the kind of pain she'd  caused.

"I'm sorry I wasn't more gracious about the dinner you cooked me," she  began. "I'd love to make it up to you. But more important, I'm sorry I  didn't trust us. You said once that trust was earned. You've been there  for me, winning my trust, winning my heart. And I didn't think I was  ready for that."

The words were a balm to his pride, but he'd spent weeks trying to woo  this woman. A guy could only get rejected so many times before learning  his lesson. "I know you've been through a lot. Losing your mom." Even if  she didn't remember her, she'd had to deal with the aftermath of her  father's loss. "That idiot Malcom cheating on you. Me lying to you. So I  get it, intellectually. But I can't sit around hoping you feel  differently someday, being your diversion in the meantime."

She reached out to grab his hand, and the sweet familiarity of her  touch went through him like a shock. "You were always more than a  diversion. The first night together, even when I thought you were  someone else, I wondered how I'd face you again in a platonic way. I may  have been looking for casual sex, but there was nothing casual about  what we shared. Not ever."                       
       
           



       

When she turned and led him toward the bedroom, he wasn't sure he  should believe her claim of only being here to talk. That thought filled  him with more excitement than it should.

Hadn't he promised never to lie to her again? "Dani, I want you. So damn badly. But I'm not happy about it."

She actually grinned. "I remember feeling exactly like that. I forgave you. I'm hoping you can do me the same courtesy."

To his surprise, she didn't go anywhere near the big king bed. Instead,  she turned toward the bathroom. If she offered to live out any of his  shower fantasies about the two of them, he was toast.

She stopped in the doorway, glancing nervously from him into the room.  He followed her gaze. On the marbled vanity, his things had all been  moved to one side. On the other side of the sink were cosmetics, a  toothbrush and a curling iron.

"I brought some things over," she said shyly. "Like you suggested.  There's a book I'm reading in the living room and some fresh lemons in  the kitchen. Obviously you can tell me it's too late. You can kick me  out, but I'm not telling you where all my stuff is," she threatened,  gaining confidence. Or at least bravado.

"You'll run across a ceramic fairy on a shelf or my favorite nightshirt  tucked into a drawer somewhere and you'll miss me. I know how horrible  that feels because I've been missing you every single day. I want to  spare you that. Because I..." Her lower lip quivered, and her eyes  glistened. She lifted her chin. "Because I love-"