Good with His Hands (11 page)

“You know you're always welcome, any time day or night. No advance notice require.” She ushered her inside, getting a clearer look at her friend. Something was obviously wrong.

Meg wore a slinky green dress and killer gold sandals. At some point, she'd also been wearing suitably dramatic evening makeup. But mascara that had no doubt started the evening on her lashes now formed rivulets over blotchy red cheeks. Meg sniffed, and Dani turned to find her a box of tissues.

“Here.”

Meg took the box but hardly seemed to register what it was for. She clutched it against her, staggering numbly toward the sofa, offering no clue what was wrong.

Dani took a stab in the dark. “Don't tell me he forgot your anniversary.”

“No, he asked me to marry him.”

And that warranted sobbing? Dani blinked, trying to connect the dots between a proposal and her friend's current condition. “Are these...happy tears?” They sure as hell didn't look like it.

Meg made a loud, honking sound midway between a laugh and a sob. “Hardly! Before I could even think how to answer him, he was outlining our future. You know how he's a little older than you and me? Well, it turns out he's in quite a hurry to become a father.”

“And this was the first you'd heard about it?”

“I knew he wanted to be a dad someday. I didn't know he wanted to be one
now
. I have nieces and nephews. I love them, but I see how much work they are. There are a lot of things a childless married couple can do that they might not have the freedom—or disposable income—for after kids come along. When I tried telling Nolan that, it was like he misunderstood, that he just thought I was worried I wouldn't be a good mom, so he kept reassuring me and trying to get me to see things his way.”

Recalling how Meg had come to her rescue post-Sean with mimosas, Dani asked, “Do we need liquor for this?” She wasn't sure what she had in the cabinets, but if it would help her friend, she'd find something.

Meg blew her nose. “Can I just have some ice water? I'm feeling a little dehydrated.”

“Coming right up.” She filled two glasses and returned to the living room. “For what it's worth, when you decide you are ready for children—many moons from now—you will make a fantastic mom.”

Her friend had an innately nurturing spirit and optimistic outlook. She was fun, the kind of mother who would finger-paint with her kids and laugh at the mess, but she was also a successful businesswoman, smart and savvy. And unlike Dani, she'd never accidentally swear in front of young ears.

Meg gave her a watery smile, showing appreciation for the support. “If Nolan had said anything like that, I might still be there now. His repeated attempts to bring me around to his way of thinking are what caused the excrement to really hit the fan. He told me he'd known from the first time he laid eyes on me that I was made to be a mom, that I had a generous smile and compassionate eyes. And child-bearing hips.”

Dani choked on her water.

“Yeah. I took offense, too, but he assured me it was a compliment, not criticism, that he considers me ‘pleasingly plump.'”

“He called you
plump
? Bastard.”

“It was so awful. Here was this guy offering me everything I want, but he ruined it. He kept saying he loves me, but I'm not sure he understands me at all. Get this—in the imaginary future he has all mapped out for us, he assumed I'd quit working at the store to be a stay-at-home mom. He said that remaining a silent partner would bring welcome income, but that selling corsets and lace panties isn't a respectable job for a mother. Tell that to my sister who co-owns the place and has two kids!”

“I'd pay money to see him tell your sister. Marissa would lay him out flat.”

“The more he talked, the clearer it became that I've completely wasted the past six months. And it's not like I can keep living in his house now that I've broken up with him. Can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course.” The sofa folded out into a bed. “Not the poshest of accommodations, but
mi
crappy apartment
es su
crappy apartment. Seriously, stay as long as you need.” As a real-estate agent, she knew there were dozens of factors that played into choosing a living arrangement. Desperation shouldn't be one of them. There was no need for Meg to go from one rash housing situation to another. “For now, all we have to do is address getting your stuff out of Nolan's place and into temporary storage. The rest, we'll figure out with time.”

Meg's face crumpled. “You were right all along. I never should have moved in with him so soon. Then I wouldn't be in this mess.”

“Don't beat yourself up.” Dani squeezed her shoulder. “It doesn't matter what I thought. You were brave enough to take a chance. I've been thinking a lot about chances.” Second chances, missed chances. “They offer rewards and pose risks. How are we supposed to know which risks are worth it if we never take them?”

“Thank you.” Meg leaned her head back, staring forlornly at the ceiling. “But for the record? I wish I hadn't taken it.”

* * *

D
USK
WAS
FALLING
across Decatur as Sean drove to his parents' on Sunday evening. His mom had called earlier in the week, insisting that both her sons come over for a belated birthday celebration and see the pictures from Hawaii.

“I managed to get them loaded onto my computer,” Keely Grayson had said proudly. “All four hundred and thirty-three! Bryce says there's something he can do so that we can watch them on the TV. Like an old-fashioned slide show.”

Four hundred photos seemed a bit extreme to Sean. Still, he was looking forward to the Never-Ending Slide Show more than he was looking forward to seeing Bryce. For once, Sean would welcome one of his brother's last-minute cancellations. Keely hated it when her sons fought, but Sean wasn't sure how they could be in the same room without that happening. When he thought about how Bryce had made Dani feel, his temper bubbled and boiled like one of the active volcanoes his parents had just visited.

Even though Dani had backpedaled, saying Bryce didn't technically insult her, when she'd mentioned the “uncomfortable elevator ride” and his implied disapproval, there'd been an expression on her face that veered dangerously close to shame. It was one thing for Bryce to occasionally hint that Sean was inferior. A degree of sibling rivalry was natural. But the idea of Bryce, of
anyone
, making Dani feel bad about herself? Sean's gut tightened in a knot of protectiveness and anger.

As he flipped on his blinker and moved into the turning lane to make a left onto his parents' street, he realized the luxury sedan in the opposite lane belonged to his brother. Sean suddenly found himself anxious to turn. If he got a moment alone with Bryce, he had a few opinions he could get off his chest before they had to make nice in front of their parents.

But there was a steady stream of oncoming traffic. Watching his brother's car make its way to the cul-de-sac, Sean knew he wouldn't have a chance to catch up with him. Goosing the accelerator and speeding down the residential street would earn his folks' dismay and snide remarks from Bryce.

By the time Sean parked in the driveway, his mom had already thrown open the door to greet Bryce on the wide wooden porch. The paint was peeling badly. Sean would have to check his schedule to see when he could apply a new coat.

He and Bryce had inherited their build from their father, a big, blond bear of a man, but they had their mother's coloring. Keely Grayson shared their light eyes and dark hair, although hers was liberally streaked with shining silver. She was a cheerful, vivacious woman, but she worried about her boys. Nothing made her tense up faster than the suggestion that something might be wrong in their lives. She also despaired of getting either of them married off, what with Bryce's “workaholic bent” and Sean's “skirt-chasing ways.”

Lately, there was only one skirt he wanted to chase. As he climbed out of the SUV, he thought that his mom would probably be cheered by the news that Sean was interested in someone specific. But he couldn't figure out how to mention Dani without the story rapidly devolving into the type of anecdote you didn't confide to your parents.

“Sean!” She waved from the front porch. “Both my boys here at once. This is what I call a good day.”

“And all those days you spent in sunny Hawaii?” Bryce teased without looking in his brother's direction. “They were what—slow grueling torture?”

She chuckled. “You know what I mean.”

Bryce hoisted the box of imported bottled beer he carried. “I should put these in the fridge and say hi to dad.”

“He's out back, getting the grill ready. See if he needs any help.”

With an obedient nod, Bryce disappeared into the house.

Sean loped up the stairs and hugged his mom. “Welcome back, world traveler.”

“You been behaving yourself since I saw you last?” she asked.

He grinned. “No, ma'am.” It occurred to him that Bryce had probably never once been asked if he was behaving himself.

“Before you go inside, you should know that your dad is probably going to ask your opinion on some home improvement projects. If you love me, you'll discourage him. I swear, ever since he retired, when he gets bored, he knocks down a wall and I end up living with plaster and plastic sheets all over my house. He needs some other hobbies,” she grumbled.

“Could be worse. He could spend his days hanging out at strip clubs.”

She harrumphed, but her eyes were twinkling. “At least then I'd get some peace and quiet around here.”

They entered the house together, and Sean knew from the cinnamon-spiced scent that his mom had been baking. He resisted the urge to close his eyes and revel in the aroma that, to him, equaled home. “Apple pie?”

“Your favorite. And French silk for your brother.”

In the Grayson household, the tradition was birthday pies, not birthday cakes. Maybe if he'd made his birthday wish blowing out a candle on homemade pie, it would have come true and Dani would be speaking to him again. There were moments when he glimpsed encouraging signs of progress—the way she'd sighed his name and leaned toward him in the model home two days ago—but those tiny moments hadn't been enough to change the big picture.

He ducked into the kitchen, grabbing one of his dad's flip-top beers from the fridge. “Hey, Mom, has Dad ever seriously screwed up? Romantically, I mean?”

She put her hands on her hips. “The year he got me that steam mop for Valentine's Day comes to mind. Of course he's messed up, honey. We both have. We're only human. What's this about?”

“I...” The words
there's this girl
hovered on the tip of his tongue, and he suddenly felt as if he was eleven years old, having an afternoon snack and telling his mom about the cute brunette who won the fifth-grade spelling bee. She'd been out of his league, though. He'd never made above a B minus in spelling. “Never mind.”

She studied him shrewdly. “Any time you mess up, a heartfelt apology is a good start.”

“Without admitting to anything, let's assume I already tried that.”

“Really?” She looked startled by that information. He supposed he did have a track record of being stubborn. “Well, flowers are—”

“Mom?” Bryce came in through the screen door at the back of the house. “Dad has questions for you about how long he's supposed to cook your salmon.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake,” she muttered. “I already went over this with him. Any time you give that man something to throw on the grill besides a burger or a steak, he gets as flustered as if you asked him to prepare a Baked Alaska. I'll be right back.”

With his mom out of earshot, Sean wasted no time. “I understand you talked to Danica.”

Bryce took a swig of his beer. “She told you that? I didn't realize the two of you were on speaking terms.”

“We're... That's beside the point. Whether she's speaking to me or not, she deserves your respect.”

“
I
disrespected her?” Bryce asked indignantly. “Oh, that's rich, coming from you. I don't know her well enough to feel anything for her, except sympathy that she got mixed up with you in the first place.”

Sean ground his teeth, unpleasantly reminded that she'd only been “mixed up with” him by accident. He wasn't the brother she'd wanted. Of course, maybe if she'd known Bryce better and realized how pompous he could be...

“Honestly, I don't know why she'd care about my opinion, anyway,” Bryce said. “She didn't seem to like me very much.”

Hearing that qualified as the high point of Sean's day.

“On the other hand.” Bryce gestured with his bottle. “She didn't seem to like
you
very much, either. Made a crack about how she was glad there weren't any more of us.”

“She's upset. Understandably. But I'm working on that.”

Bryce stared at him for a long moment. “You're serious, aren't you?”

“Yeah.”

“But I meant what I said about her not liking you. You've never had a problem getting dates. Why are you pursuing her? You should—”

“What, just give up?” Great brotherly advice—tell the loser to cut his losses.

To hell with this.
Sean decided to see if his dad could use his help.

But as he left the room, he glanced back at Bryce. “It may surprise you to hear this, but I
do
succeed at some things.” He just didn't know yet whether persuading Dani to give him a second chance would be one of them.

 

10

D
ANI
WAS
WRITING
up new listings Thursday midmorning when her cell phone rang. She checked the screen. Meg.

“Hey.” She leaned back in her chair. “I was going to call you later. Do you have any lunch plans? The couple I was showing houses to canceled, so I have an unexpected, sinfully indolent gap in the middle of my day.”

There was a pause on Meg's end. “Thanks for the offer, but I have a lot to do here at the store. We're transitioning from spring stock to summer.”

Dani bit her lip to keep from laughing. She knew people often put away sundresses for the winter or shoved boxes of sweatshirts under their beds once summer rolled around, but she hadn't realized there was a difference between spring and summer undies. “Are summer thongs more revealing than the spring ones?”

“Watch it,” Meg threatened. “Your friends-and-family discount isn't carved in stone, you know. Respect the thongs.”

Not likely. But since she did respect her friend's business enterprise—and because it was fun to occasionally slip into something uncharacteristically frilly—she didn't point out that before meeting Meg, she'd been perfectly content buying basic undergarments at retail chains.

“If you're really too busy with the seasonal thongs to meet for lunch, I understand. But promise me you'll eat something?” She'd noticed her friend's usual appetite had disappeared since Nolan called her plump. Meg wasn't the least bit overweight, but she'd never been as naturally slim as her sisters. “If you've been starving yourself because that son of a—”

“Speaking of which. That ‘son of a' is why I'm calling.”

“Please tell me it's to say an anvil dropped out of the sky and hit him.”

Meg laughed. “What is it with you and anvils?”

She shrugged, then realized Meg couldn't see. “Too much Wile E. Coyote in my formative years.”

“Well, Nolan wasn't knocked unconscious by any falling cartoon props. But he did text me to say we can come get my stuff anytime after four today.”

Meg had been outraged when she'd spoken to him on Monday and he'd told her he changed the locks. He'd refused to let her pick up her belongings without him being there to supervise.

“What does he think I'm going to do?” she'd demanded after ending the call. “Smash his TV set? Steal his spoons? Set his favorite jacket on fire? I've got more integrity than that!”

“Too bad,” Dani had joked. “Because those all sounded like pretty decent ideas. Except, if we're going to steal something, the TV probably has a higher street value than the spoons.”

“Anyway,” Meg continued, “I already talked to Jamie.” He was the brother she'd once tried to fix up with Dani; he was also the brother who owned an extended-bed pickup truck. “He can make this evening work. I know you wanted to come with me for moral support, but if you're busy...”

Dani did a mental rundown of the showings she'd planned to do, wondering if anything could be rearranged. Having seen how torn up Meg was this week, she didn't want her friend facing the man who'd broken her heart alone. Plus, Dani knew how protective Meg's siblings were. If Jamie found out the reason for the breakup was Nolan treating Meg like a brood mare, Dani might need to run interference to make sure no noses were broken.

“I can definitely help you out by five forty-five,” Dani said. “But I think I might be able to manage earlier.”

“You don't have to come with me,” Meg stressed. “You've already done so much.”

“Would you do the same for me?”

There was a brief silence.

Dani smiled. “That's what I thought.” She was in the middle of disconnecting the call when Judy stuck her head into the office.

“Delivery for you, hon.” She held a gorgeous table-top bouquet. Instead of an elongated vase, the bunch of hydrangea, roses and orchids sat in a squared-off glass bowl, surrounded by smooth river rocks.

“Those are beautiful.”

“No card that I can see,” Judy said as she placed the floral arrangement on the corner of Dani's desk. “What is that at the bottom?”

Dani hadn't noticed, but sitting among the rocks was a small ceramic fairy holding a wand. The expression on her pixie face was mischievous, and she looked too young to be anyone's godmother, but the message was received. Sean had sent her flowers. Since several days had passed without hearing from him, she'd wondered if he'd finally put her behind him. She'd told herself that was what she wanted. But the brief flare of piercing joy she felt disproved that.

She sighed. “You know what? Let's leave these out in the general reception area so they can brighten everyone's day.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I'm out of my office half the time anyway.”

Judy tilted her head, regarding her. “This doesn't have anything to do with Hot Architect coming to see you last week, does it?”

“Bryce. The architect's name is Bryce.” She had a newfound fixation for correctly identifying people. “But he's not the one who came into my office.”

“Sure he was. I know what Hot—
Bryce
looks like. You could say I've made an informal study of him.”

“He has a twin brother.”

“There are
two
of them?” Judy's mouth dropped open. “Well, if that isn't proof of a benevolent higher power, I don't know what is. So do the flowers have anything to do with the twin?” she pressed. “I didn't know you were seeing anyone.”

“I'm not,” Dani said crisply. “And I think I hear the phone ringing.”

It rang again, and Judy scowled. “Some days, getting my job done seriously cuts into my gossip schedule.”

In general, Judy had a big heart. If anyone ever called in sick with a cold or flu, they could expect a brief visit and a container of Judy's homemade chicken soup. But the woman did love her gossip. Since Judy couldn't keep a secret to save her life, there was no way Dani would tell her what was going on with Sean.

Especially since Dani wasn't even sure what was going on with him. Much as she'd tried not to, she'd been thinking of him a lot since that charged walk-through with the Andersens.

She picked up her phone. Sean had given her his business card, which was printed with his cell number. It seemed only right that she call and thank him for the flowers. But... She hesitated. If she expressed any gratitude, wasn't she just encouraging him?

Conversely, she could call to tell him he shouldn't have sent the flowers, but that was still her reaching out to him. She wasn't a fan of mixed messages. She made it through the rest of the day without phoning him, redirecting her focus to her clients and shifting her schedule so that she could drive Meg to Nolan's tonight. There was enough stuff that they'd need both Dani's car and Jamie's truck. She didn't allow herself any time to moon over a blue-eyed charmer with lax morals and great taste in flowers.

But as she crossed through the reception area on her way out for the night, she went to the vase that had been delivered. Shifting the box of flyers in her arm, she glanced around to see if anyone was looking. Then she plucked out the three-inch fairy, gently dropping it into her pocket and grinning the entire elevator ride down.

* * *

M
EG
KNOCKED
,
AND
,
standing next to her on the concrete stoop, Dani felt a twinge of sympathy. It had to be difficult, almost demeaning, to have to knock at the front door of a place you'd called home mere days ago. Even though they'd arrived at exactly the time Meg had texted, Nolan made them wait a few minutes before he opened the door.

He was a tall, slim guy with dark hair. Not bad-looking, despite a weak chin. When Dani had first met him, her only thought about his appearance was that his features made him look a little petulant. Now, she reconsidered her opinion, no longer blaming his features. Perhaps the problem was his attitude. Once he'd let them in, he stalked back to a desk in the corner and began typing on his laptop. He didn't even spare a cursory hi for Meg or ask how she was.

Meg sighed. “Come on. Bedroom's this way. We can box stuff up while we wait for Jamie.”

He'd called to say he was stuck in traffic, but they could get started without him. They mostly needed Jamie to transport furniture and help carry heavy items. The two women had already made several trips to Dani's car before he finally rolled up in front of the house. Nolan watched the three of them lift an antique table Meg had inherited from her great-aunt without offering assistance, only a baleful glare.

It was odd—supposedly Nolan had loved Meg enough to pledge his entire life to her. Yet when she'd turned down his marriage proposal, his response was to sulk like a toddler. He hadn't tried to reconcile, wasn't doing a damn thing to win her back. His attitude was in stark contrast to Sean's. Sean Grayson hardly knew Dani, had only promised her a single night, yet he continued to court her, in his own stubborn, insufferable way.

Well, the flowers were actually beautiful. Maybe they didn't fall under the “insufferable” heading.

Dani was carrying a laundry basket full of books and DVDs out to the truck when the phone in her pocket dinged. “Hello?”

“Dani. Glad I caught you. It's Erik Frye.” He sounded frazzled.

“Tough day?” she guessed.

“Tough day for my mom. She lives alone in Savannah, and she fell down her stairs today.”

“I'm so sorry. Is she okay?”

“Bruised and battered, but X-rays show nothing's broken, thank God.” He sighed heavily. “This is the third fall she's had since Christmas. We've been trying to talk her into selling that house, but she and Dad lived there for decades before he died. I think she feels like she'd be, I don't know, abandoning him if she leaves.”

“Well, you and I know better than most, people get sentimentally attached to their homes.” She'd seen sellers turn down lucrative offers because they didn't have the right feeling about certain buyers, couldn't envision the new people in “their” home.

“She's staying in the hospital tonight. I want to get down there, take care of her for the next couple of days and revisit the single-story ranch home discussion. My brother's in Ohio, so it's harder for him to go, and my sister's got her kids plus the benefit she's helping run this weekend. I hate to cancel on you for Saturday.”

“Forget about me—your mom needs you. I completely understand.”

“Would you be willing to go anyway? I paid for two tickets, and I'd love for them to be used. According to my sister, the fashion show will be entertaining. It's followed by dinner and dancing. The committee worked hard, and they're hoping for a strong turnout. Please take the tickets.”

She looked back toward the house, thinking of how despondent Meg had been this week. It might be best for her friend's mental health if she got out and did something fun instead of being cooped up in Dani's depressing apartment all weekend.

“As it happens, Erik, I know someone who could use a few hours of fun.”

* * *

W
HEN
S
EAN
'
S
CELL
PHONE
rang at noon on Saturday, he was standing in his galley-style kitchen making lunch. Turning down the burner underneath a pot of jarred pasta sauce, he dove for the cell on the far end of the counter.
Maybe this time...
Ever since he'd received confirmation of the florist's delivery, he'd been hoping to hear from Dani.

“Hello?”

“¿Qué pasa?”
Alex greeted him. “Some of the guys are meeting to play basketball at the center. We'd planned a game of three-on-three, but we're one short. You free this afternoon?”

“Actually, no. I was eating a quick lunch, then headed out the door. I have a few errands to run and then I...promised some people I'd help with something today.” That was all Alex needed to know. Sean didn't mind contributing his time to a worthy cause, but that didn't mean he was going to blithely hand his smart-assed friend a weapon of mass mockery.

“Okay. Guess I'll call Pete, then. You should feel special—you were our first choice.”

“I feel very special. I'm writing about it in my diary even as we speak.”

Alex snorted, then hung up.

In the silence that followed, Sean kicked himself for getting his hopes up that the caller would be Dani. He'd apologized, he'd flirted, he'd given her space, he'd sent her a gift. And what did he get in return? Radio silence. He blew out an exasperated breath. Where was the line between laudable persistence and being an ass who couldn't take a hint?

Hint taken, Danica.

If she had no interest in him, maybe he'd be wise to leave her alone—as Bryce had suggested last weekend. Taking any advice from his brother stuck in his craw. And knowing that he'd probably encounter his twin today, not to mention his ex-girlfriend, did nothing to boost his mood.

Sean spared a wistful thought for the basketball game he'd declined. Shooting hoops with the guys would be vastly preferable to the afternoon and evening ahead of him. The sacrifice was for a good cause, though. Maybe he couldn't scrawl his signature on a huge check the way some could, but he could donate his time.

After all, raising money to help feed kids beat the hell out of sitting around and waiting for his phone to ring.

* * *

“O
OH
-
LA
-
LA
,” M
EG
SAID
as they sat waiting behind the other cars lined up at the valet stand. “I've never been to a country club before.”

Dani had, but not this particular one. The club was so elite a person couldn't even view the website without logging in as a member first. She'd discovered that when she tried to confirm the driving directions.