Good with His Hands (15 page)

“Your parents are nice.” She stared out her window, searching for a way to voice her feelings that didn't make her sound as if she were overreacting. “And I had a good time. On the subject of us, though... You're okay with taking this slow, right?”

He parked near the corner of the building, a few yards from her front door. “Of course. I'm grateful you're no longer angry with me, but I know earning trust is a process. I don't want to rush you.” He got out of the car and came around to open her door. “Besides, your apartment's pretty much at maximum capacity. I wasn't expecting you to invite me to stay the night with Meg here recuperating.”

Wait, did he think her request to take things slow meant she wasn't ready to have sex again? Because actually—

“Did you have any idea she and my brother had talked?” he asked. “Have to say, Bryce caught me off guard with that.”

“Me, too.”

“If he asks her out, I hope she doesn't say yes right away.” Sean snickered. “He was so pompous about my being hung up on you. Couldn't understand why I just didn't walk away.”

Despite her reservations about making any long-term romantic plans, she was touched by his reluctance to give up on her. She grazed her knuckles over his cheek. “I'm glad you don't give up easily.”

He turned his head, pressing a quick kiss against her hand. “Not when the reward for perseverance is you.”

 

12

“S
O
?” M
EG
STOOD
in the doorway to Dani's room, where she'd apparently been waiting while Dani changed into pajamas and brushed her teeth. “How did it go? Were you able to avoid mention of how you seduced their son the day you met him? After you'd been gone a couple of hours, I figured it was safe to assume they hadn't labeled you a harlot and booted you out of their house.”

“More like they were on the verge of asking me to call them Mom and Dad.” Dani sat cross-legged on her bed. “Well, Mrs. Grayson was anyway. She did most of the talking on their behalf.”

“That's so great that she liked you. One thing I will not miss about Nolan is his mother. She always acted like the age difference between us meant I was too immature for her worldly son.” She gave a lopsided smile. “Maybe next time, I'll go for someone younger. Could be fun to have a boy-toy.”

Dani didn't get the sense that “fun” was how most people described Bryce Grayson, but she couldn't forget the way his eyes lit up when he'd mentioned her friend. “Your name came up tonight, by the way. Seems you made quite an impression on Bryce.”

“Oh?” Meg kept her voice neutral, but telltale color stained her cheeks. “A good impression, or a ‘who let
her
into the club?' impression?”

“Definitely good. Can I infer from the blush that he made an equally favorable impression? How come you didn't mention that you'd talked to him?”

Meg cast her gaze downward, suddenly fascinated by the nondescript beige carpeting. “Noticing that he's attractive felt like betraying you. You wanted him first.”

“First of all, you'd have to be blind
not
to notice he's attractive. And I hardly knew the guy.” As evidenced by her confusing him with someone else. “Whatever thoughts I may have had about him at one time, you know I'm not interested in Bryce anymore.”

“Yeah, but you're dating his twin brother. Wouldn't it be awkward if I pursued a guy who's identical to your boyfriend?”

“This may sound weird, but the more time I spend with Sean, the less he looks like Bryce. They're really different.”

Meg took a second to process that, then shook her head. “It's a moot point anyway. I ran into him the one time, but it isn't as though I frequent country clubs.”

“I mentioned where you work,” Dani admitted. “I don't know if he'll look you up or not, but he's invested enough to ask about you.”

Meg giggled. “You remember when I went through that phase of trying to set you up with Jamie because I wanted us to be sisters-in-law? I suppose if we eventually married brothers, I could still get my wish.”

Dani flopped back on the bed with a groan. “What is it with all you people who have marriage on your minds?”

“It was just hypothetical.”

“Still. I couldn't be less interested in thinking about that kind of commitment right now.” If ever. “I thought I knew Tate. We were together for years, and I narrowly escaped hitching myself to a cheat and a liar. You don't celebrate an escape by looking for new traps. All I want is a little fun.”

“Well, that's how love gets you,” Meg said philosophically. “You start out having fun with someone, enjoying each other so much that one day, out of the clear blue sky—”

“Love hits you like an emotional anvil?” Dani rolled her eyes. “Jeez, sign me up for that.”

* * *

“T
EARJERKER
OR
ACTION
MOVIE
?” Sean asked when Dani opened her door Friday night. The latest in a superhero franchise was vying for lead at the box office with a deeply emotional film already getting Oscar buzz.

Dani snorted. “Like I want to pay thirteen dollars so I can sit in a crowded theater and cry off my eye makeup? Action, please.”

He kissed her hello. “My kind of girl.”

She grabbed a lightweight sweater in case the air-conditioned theater got too chilly and followed him outside. As she was locking the front door, the phone in her purse sounded. She checked to see if the call was from Meg. Usually her friend was home from work by now.

But it was her dad's number that flashed across the screen, which surprised her. Other than a flurry of concerned calls surrounding the wedding date, the Major wasn't really a phone person.

“Hey, Dad.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Danica. Are you...are you busy?”

Her gaze flicked to Sean. “I do have plans tonight. Did you need something?” He sounded strange, lacking his usual crisp, commanding intonation.

“No,” he said too quickly. “Just wanted to hear your voice.”

The more he spoke, the easier it was to detect the slur in his words. Belatedly, she recalled the date and its significance to her father. He hadn't let himself grieve in front of her often, but some years had been worse than others. “Daddy, have you been drinking?”

“I'm over twenty-one, Danica Leigh.”

She moved the phone away from her face a moment. “Can we make a stop on the way to the theater? Well, not on the way in the strictest sense.” They would miss the coming attraction previews for sure. “Dad, you sit tight. I'll be there soon.”

Ending the call, she slid into the passenger seat of Sean's SUV with a worried sigh. “It's the anniversary of my mom's death,” she said quietly. She rarely remembered, except when her father had one of his spells. “I think Dad's been drinking.” First Meg at the country club and now this. “I swear not all the people in my life are lushes. You're catching us on a bad week.”

Sean's hand dropped to her thigh. “People make questionable decisions when they're hurting. Hell, I'm living proof that people make questionable decisions, period.”

She gave him directions to her dad's place, keeping one eye on the time. They were going to miss more than the previews. Maybe they could go to the later showing.

It took them about half an hour to reach the duplex where her father lived. The entire neighborhood was populated with retirees, and the parking lot was full of Buicks and Cadillacs from a bygone era. Not bothering to knock, she let herself in with her spare key.

“Dad? It's me. I'm here with a friend.”

There was a shattering crash and some swearing from the next room. “In the kitchen,” her father called back. The pungent scent of whiskey wafted down the hall to greet them. He must have knocked over a bottle. At least that meant there was less left for him to actually drink.

“He never does this,” she told Sean, aware that the circumstances under which they were meeting each other's parents were radically different. Her family might only be made up of two people, but between her and her father, they had plenty of baggage.

When they walked into the kitchen, they found the Major trying to clean up spilled whiskey and broken glass. Photo albums were spread across the wooden, two-seater table.

“Daddy?”

The Major whirled, years of training and honed reflexes momentarily overcoming the booze. “Dammit. You shouldn't have to see me like... You look so much like her.” He squinted, trying to peer past her shoulder into the dark hall behind her. “That better not be Tate with you. Lowlife cheating—”

“This is Sean Grayson. He's a friend. He's going to get you some water while I clean this up. You sit down,” she said firmly. Of the three of them, her father was the only one barefoot.

She put her hands on his shoulders and gently steered him toward a chair. He seemed too preoccupied with Sean's presence to notice.

“Are
you
a lowlife cheat?” the Major asked.

“No, sir.”

“Good. Dani deserves better.”

“I couldn't agree more, sir.” Sean leaned over, studying one of the open albums while Dani got the broom and dustpan out of the pantry. “This must be your wife? She's very beautiful.” Glancing in Dani's direction, he added, “You do look just like her.”

A fact she well knew. It had been evident since she hit puberty that she was going to grow into the spitting image of a mother she'd barely known and couldn't remember. It was disorienting at times, to look at photos and see a face that mirrored her own. Then again, what must Sean's life be like, to stare into Bryce's face and see contempt or annoyance reflected on his own features?

Major Yates dropped his hand to one plastic-protected page. “She was my soul mate.” His expression turned dreamy for a moment, his smile making him look years younger. “It's such a blessing to find that one person you were meant to be with.”

Dani bit her lip, her eyes welling with tears at her dad's loneliness. Was he right? From a purely selfish standpoint, since it meant being born, she was glad he'd married her mother. But if he hadn't been so convinced that Gina Yates had been his “one and only,” would he be remarried now? Growing old with someone who cared for him instead of drinking alone with only faded pictures for company?

He'd told Dani all during her adolescence that one day she'd find her special someone. As she'd entered her midtwenties, she'd begun to question that belief. When Tate had proposed, she'd thought she'd finally met her fabled match. She didn't want her breakup with Tate to leave her cynical—he wasn't entitled to hold that much sway over her. Yet, as she stepped gingerly across shards of broken glass and watched her father's equally broken expression, she wondered if perhaps
not
finding that one special person could be a blessing, too.

* * *

“I'
M
SORRY
ABOUT
the movie,” Dani said as Sean made the turn into her apartment complex. “I know pizza and poker with my father wasn't the plan.”

He shot her a grin. “I haven't had so many dates chaperoned by parents since I was fourteen.” When she didn't laugh, he added, “I didn't mind. Really. This gives me an excuse to ask for a rain check on the movie and see you again soon.”

Dani couldn't find Meg's car in the lot. When they walked inside the apartment, it was all dark except for the entryway nightlight.

She smacked a palm to her forehead, her memory belatedly kicking in. “Meg's hosting a bridal shower at the shop tonight! She told me days ago that she'd be out late, but I forgot.” Possibly because she had a mental block when it came to anything bridal.

“They have those at lingerie shops?” he asked, sounding intrigued. “I thought showers were more Sunday dresses and mini-sandwiches while the bride-to-be opens plates and monogrammed towels.”

“What a sadly narrow mind,” she chided. “My bridal shower—” That was so not what she wanted to think about right now. “Suffice it to say, Meg's my best friend, so it was a bit more creative and less G-rated than what you describe. Now.” She clutched the front of his shirt in both hands. “Do you want to stand around discussing potential shower gifts, or do you want to make the most of our time alone in a roommate-free apartment?”

He backed her to the nearest wall, leaning in with agonizing slowness, each heartbeat an eternity before their lips touched. But his teasing finesse didn't last long. When her tongue slid against his, he pressed into her, deepening their kiss, his mouth moving on hers with ravenous need.

He dropped his hands to her ass and lifted her. With her legs wrapped around his waist, he carried her toward the bedroom. The motion of his long strides, the jostling friction between her thighs, sent her soaring into a state of heightened sensitivity. By the time her feet touched the floor again in her room, she was nearly too aroused to stand.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he flashed her a lopsided grin. “I have some very fond memories of this room.”

So did she. Yet she also vividly recalled the last time they'd been here together, when he'd admitted who he was and she'd felt like twelve degrees of idiot. She shrank from the recollection, wanting to savor being with him now.

“Hey.” There was genuine delight in his voice. “You kept her.”

She followed his gaze to the tiny winged fairy on the nightstand, the one that had been nestled in the floral arrangement.

“I was afraid you might throw her out,” he admitted. “Or refuse delivery of the flowers altogether.” The note of vulnerability in his voice tugged at her heart, making it easier to banish unpleasant memories and her lingering fear of being made a fool. She wasn't the only one emotionally exposed here.

He brushed his fingers over the slope of her neck. “I wish I'd sent you flowers today. Then I could run the petals over your skin.”

“Nice thought, but I want to feel your touch without anything between us.” Not even the fine velvet of rose petals.

“Then we should really do something,” he murmured against her lips, “about all these clothes.”

There was no more talking then, only fervent kisses as they undressed one another, exploring each other's bodies and doing their best to make up for the weeks they'd missed each other.

Sean sat on the edge of her bed, shucking his socks and then his briefs. She stared unabashedly, loving every line of his amazingly sculpted body. Her gaze swept over the dark hair on his chest down to his jutting erection. She considered sinking to her knees and tasting him, but he reached for her before she got the chance, toppling her onto the mattress with him.

With a muffled squeal, she landed astride him and decided this was good, too. More than good. Sprawled across him, she kissed him hungrily while his hands stroked and kneaded. Fire spread through her, arousal a pulse at her core, her nipples puckered into tight buds. She propped herself up to give him better access to her breasts, and he happily took advantage.

He cupped her breasts together, his thumbs teasing both peaks, until she was nearly mindless. She bucked against him, so slick that all it would have taken was a slight movement of his hips to be inside her. Temporarily regaining sense, she pulled a condom out of the nightstand. When he reached for the packet, she shook her head.