Good with His Hands

Was Sean here in part to prove her wrong? To try to recapture some of the old camaraderie? Knock off the introspective crap. You’re here to hang some balloons and heckle him about being old.

It was only fair, considering how often Bryce had lorded his nine-minute head start on life over his “little brother” when they were kids. Sean also had a gift to leave on his brother’s desk. He’d scanned a section of one of Bryce’s first blueprints and paid a friend with graphics art talent to turn it into a one-of-a-kind multicolored kaleidoscope print. Sean had framed the resulting artwork and wrapped it in black “over the hill” paper. He hoped Bryce would hang the print in his office.

Or was the customized art too funky for the uptight man Bryce had become? Although Bryce was a decent architect, his main role in the company was getting permits passed. He was the person who crossed the t’s and dotted the i’s. As if his occupational habits were taking over his personal life, with each passing year, Bryce grew more rigid. His DVD collection of pretentious, independent films was probably alphabetized. Most of Sean’s DVDs weren’t even in their proper cases.

Unlike his brother, Sean lived in the moment, enjoying spontaneity. Why overplan the journey? In his experience, life offered many interesting detours.

* * *

OF ALL THE ways Dani could have spent Saturday afternoon, hiding in an empty office so that concerned friends couldn’t call her home line or drop by to check on her was definitely in the pathetic top five.

Granted, she’d spent the past few hours putting herself in a strategic position to reach her goal—the youngest top seller to graduate to a flat desk fee instead of splitting commission with the brokerage—but was it really healthy to be so practical? She was a scorned bride. Shouldn’t she be finding catharsis in some kind of outrageous behavior? In her career, following the rules and setting goals worked well. In her love life? Not so much. Tate was the one who’d cheated, yet he was happily married while she was alone.

When Meg had announced she was moving in with Nolan, a pharmaceutical sales rep six years her senior, after dating him only a couple of months, Dani had cautioned her exuberant friend that it was too soon. But Meg had defied conventional wisdom and seemed perfectly happy with her choice. Meanwhile, Dani had tried to do everything right with Tate—spending a year and a half getting to know him before they got engaged, being completely supportive of his needing to work out of the country—and she’d gotten screwed.

If this were a movie, she would have taken her canceled honeymoon to Maui all by herself and fallen in love with one of Hollywood’s leading men amid a learning-to-surf montage and funny luau scene. Well, it’s not a movie. So she could either stay here and continue her downward spiral into feeling sorry for herself or she could call Meg. Maybe last night’s invitation for drinks still stood. Or maybe Dani should look around the area for paintball places with evening hours. She sort of liked the idea of wearing her pristine white wedding dress to a paintball battle. If nothing else, the sight would unnerve her opponents.

She heaved a sigh. It wasn’t the bridal gown’s fault that Tate was too insecure to spend his life with a strong woman. She shouldn’t take out her rage on a seven-hundred-dollar dress. But she could totally take it out on a pitcher’s worth of margaritas.

Resolved, she shut down her computer. There was one nice thing about her abysmal little apartment; it was only two adjoining parking lots away from a neighborhood bar. She could easily walk home after a few drinks. The bar was a nice place with pool tables and a Saturday happy hour she might still make if she left now. Maybe Meg could meet her there.

Dani would call her from the car, once her cell phone was plugged in to the charger. She’d “accidentally” forgotten to charge it this morning. At least, that was the story she planned to give anyone who’d been unable to reach her. Her father had called three times alone that morning. Lord knew how many voice messages awaited her.

When Dani had arrived at the office, she’d been wearing a three-quarter sleeved semitransparent blouse over a lace-edged red camisole and white denim skirt. But the air-conditioning didn’t run on the weekends and the day had turned into one of those humid summer previews when Mother Nature demonstrated what Atlanta had to look forward to in June, so she’d shrugged out of the blouse. Now she scooped up the discarded garment and her briefcase, suddenly eager to escape the barren office and the loneliness it represented. She could imagine how Tate would gloat if he knew she’d spent the day here alone.

But it turned out the building wasn’t entirely deserted. As she juggled her belongings in her arms to lock the brokerage door, she heard footsteps in the hall behind her. She glanced back immediately; her dad, who’d been far more comfortable teaching her self-defense than taking her bra shopping, had coached her to be aware of her surroundings.

Her eyes widened. Hot Architect! It was like a sign. Or fate, if she believed in such nonsense. For today, be a believer. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he echoed. “I didn’t think anyone else was cooped up in the building on such a gorgeous day.” His lips quirked in a lazy half smile, his gaze dropping in a brief but appreciative once-over before returning to meet hers. “Never been so happy to be wrong.”

He was flirting with her? His unexpectedly playful tone was like diving into cold water on a scorching summer day—an initial shock to the system, but damn it felt good.

Although he still hadn’t given her a full smile, humor danced in his eyes. “I hope your presence here on a Saturday afternoon doesn’t mean you’re a stuffy workaholic,” he teased. “That would be tragic. But I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

“You’re here, too. Workaholic tendencies?”

She could almost believe the man she normally saw in well-tailored suits was a workaholic. But now? Lord have mercy. His dark hair was rumpled. With no trace of styling product, it looked shaggier yet sexy. He filled out a pair of jeans in a way that could make a grown woman weep, and his T-shirt... She tried not to gape, scarcely believing how he’d hid those biceps under his suit jackets.

He crossed his arms over his chest, giving her a great view of corded forearms. “I wouldn’t describe myself as a workaholic.” This time, instead of the half smile, he flashed a wicked grin. “But I don’t stop until the job’s done to everyone’s mutual satisfaction.”

Her mind raced, full of suggestions on how such satisfaction could be reached. Hadn’t she promised herself that when he finally smiled at her, she’d make a move?

“Are you on your way to the elevators?” he asked.

“Stairwell, actually. I prefer physical activity.”

His grin widened. There was a bracketed indentation to the right of his mouth, not deep enough or boyish enough to be called a dimple, but close. “Sounds like you and I have a lot in common.”

Two days ago, she’d offered the innocuous suggestion of buying him a pastry. Now she wanted to offer a whole lot more than that. Dinner, maybe. And dessert, back at her place. Slow your roll, Yates. The guy doesn’t even know your name yet. “I’m Danica, by the way. My friends call me Dani.”

“Mine call me Grayson. Or just Gray.” He reached out to shake her hand, his fingers calloused and warm against her skin. She suddenly wanted to know what that touch would feel like along the rest of her body.

“Do you have anywhere you have to be?” She blurted the question before she could change her mind. “Because, personally, I’m dying to let off some steam.”

Heat flared in his eyes, his smile fading into something more intense. “What did you have in mind?”

“For starters, a drink at a bar I know.” The delicious way he was looking at her made her reckless and lightheaded. “After that...well, I guess we’ll see.”

He stepped closer. They weren’t touching, but the proximity was intimate. Her body prickled in heightened awareness and if her hands weren’t full, she’d be fanning herself. “Consider my evening cleared.”

Wow. She was really doing this. Exhilaration and desire were a potent mix, an electric buzz along her nerves.

They fell in step together, and he opened the door for her when they reached the stairwell. Dani walked up and down these same concrete steps on a daily basis, but it had never felt thrilling or sexy before. Gray’s presence heightened her senses, made her more aware of her own body. As she descended the stairs in front of him, she swore she could feel his admiring gaze drop to her hips and butt. The ogling wasn’t unwanted. After all, she was the one who’d propositioned him. And holding the attention of such an incredibly sexy man made her feel powerful and feminine. Boldly sensual.

While she’d never been shy, even she was surprised at how brazenly she was behaving. She’d daydreamed about making a move on him when he finally smiled at her, but she’d had no idea how hot the chemistry would be between them. It made her wild impulse to take him home feel inevitable rather than insane.

Still, one-night stands were uncharted territory for her. At this precise moment, tasting his kisses seemed like the best idea she’d ever had, but would she feel that way the next time they ran into each other outside the coffee place? What would it be like to stand in line for a latte behind a guy who’d seen her naked?

As they reached the exit, she took a deep breath. “No matter what happens tonight, you don’t have to worry that seeing me will be awkward when Monday rolls around or that I’ll crowd you.”

“Monday?” he echoed. Evidently, he hadn’t thought that far ahead yet.

She gave him an earnest look over her shoulder, wanting to clarify that there were no strings. “I’m definitely not looking for a relationship. I was supposed to get married in...” She consulted the slim gold watch around her wrist. “Forty-five minutes. My fiancé eloped last weekend with the woman he was seeing on the side. Right now, I need to have a really good time and forget the whole mess.” Permanently, if possible.

Did her words make it sound as if she’d picked him at random? “I’ve been thinking about you all week,” she added. “And it seems like the attraction’s mutual. What do you say, Bryce?”

He frowned.

“Gray,” she corrected. He’d said the nickname was what his friends used, and she was hoping they would become very friendly before the night was over. “Want to help generate a little amnesia?”

3

IDIOT, IDIOT, IDIOT. Sean wanted to howl at the bitter unfairness of the situation, at his own stupidity. He was in his brother’s office building, so why the hell hadn’t it occurred to him that the stunning brunette had mistaken him for Bryce? Maybe because no one had confused the two of them since second grade. They were too dissimilar.

The disappointment at hearing his twin’s name from Dani’s full, cupid’s bow lips stabbed deep. The idea of his brother flirting with her, touching her... His hands clenched into fists at his sides. Then again, she must not know Bryce, or why would she have introduced herself? Sean spared a moment of contemptuous disbelief for his permit-seeking, suit-wearing brother. The man worked down the hall from a woman who looked like this and had never even asked her name?

Idiocy must run in the family.

As he mentally berated both himself and his brother, Dani’s forehead crinkled. “Damn,” she sighed, regret lacing her husky voice. Had she taken his silence as rejection? “Was I too forward?”

“What? No. Actually, I like that in a woman.” A lot. She was gorgeous, with her wild fall of dark hair and her long, lean body, but what made her sexy as hell was the sense that she knew what she wanted and wasn’t shy about going after it. When she’d first seen him in the hallway, the awareness in her gaze had been like a wave of heat, burning a tantalizing path.

He’d always been drawn to brunettes. In her body-hugging top, nails painted a fearless red, she looked like his fantasy made real. But, odds were, when he told her he wasn’t Bryce, she was going to be mortified.

They’d reached the parking lot. When he informed her of her mistake, would she bolt for her car? She’d be gone from his life as suddenly as she’d appeared. Everything inside him protested at the idea.

Guilt warred with lust. Sean was ready and willing to help her forget her problems and bolster her wounded ego. But she wants Bryce. Except, Bryce wouldn’t have been any good to her. Mr. Rules and Regulations would never go home with a woman whose name he’d only just learned; he’d be appalled by the very idea. If Dani wanted a good time, then she had—however inadvertently—chosen the right brother.

Even Sean’s ex-girlfriend, the one who’d despaired of his never amounting to anything, had said so. Tara’s parting words echoed in his mind. “If you and that sophisticated twin of yours could be combined into one person, you’d be the perfect guy. He’s the one with ambition and smarts...but, let’s face it, you sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

Unaware of his mental anguish, Dani smiled. “As long as I’m being blunt and inappropriate anyway, can I just say, now that I’ve seen you in short sleeves, I think it’s a shame you wear all those jackets?” Her gaze went to his arm, as tangible and arousing as a caress. She was attracted to him. Specifically.

It was impossible not to return her grin. “Want me to flex or anything? I live to serve.”

“Then have that drink with me,” she coaxed.

He took an involuntary step closer, breathing in her honey and vanilla scent. How could any man refuse her? “Absolutely.”

* * *

I CAN’T BELIEVE I’m doing this! Dani’s gaze darted to the rearview mirror, as if she had to make sure Gray’s SUV was still there. Without the physical evidence, this seemed more like a naughty daydream than real life. Her skin was tingling all over. Between adrenaline and hormones, she had to squeeze her fingers around the steering wheel to keep them from trembling.

Back in the parking lot, before they’d gone to their own cars, she’d thought he might kiss her. She’d barely been able to tear her gaze from his mouth. Had he been able to tell how hard her pulse was pounding? She’d been so turned-on that anything they’d done would have felt natural. The drive to the bar, however, allowed just enough time for nerves to creep in.

It had been months since she’d had sex and years since she’d been with anyone other than her ex-fiancé. Needing moral support, she instructed her phone to call Meg.

“Hey,” her friend answered, sounding relieved. “I’m glad it’s you! I’ve been trying to give you space today, in case you didn’t feel like talking, but—”

“I don’t mean to cut you off, but we don’t have much time.”

“Well, that sounds dramatic. Like, you’re fleeing the country from bad guys and need to tell me you’ve left something important in a bus-station locker. Or you’re going to ask me whether you should cut the blue wire or the red wire.”

Dani laughed. Apparently, all the action movies she made her friend watch had left an impression. “I went into the office today, and Hot Architect was there! Well, Gray.” In the military, nicknames were common; she rarely thought anything of using them. But calling him Gray felt intimate and gave her a rush of pleasure. “Short for his last name, Grayson.”

“You’re already on a nickname basis?” Meg asked, sounding impressed. “You work fast.”

You don’t know the half of it. “I have to tell you something, and if you love me, you won’t talk me out of this.”

“This promises to be good,” Meg said cheerfully. “And I think we both know I’m the ‘jump out of the plane, worry about the parachute on the way down’ friend. You’re the voice of reason who talks me out of things. Or tries to—I rarely listen to good sense.”

Maybe Meg’s “seize the day” attitude is rubbing off on me. “Gray’s in the car behind me right now, following me to the bar in front of my complex. And if things go well over drinks...”

Meg let out a squeal of delight. “You’re taking him home with you!”

“I haven’t decided for sure.” The hell you haven’t, her libido argued. “Would sleeping with him be completely crazy?” Not that sane had gotten her anywhere, except dumped and relocated to a crappy apartment.

“Crazy’s what you need tonight. Celebrate your freedom! Instead of tying the knot, you can tie up Hot Architect.”

Dani grinned. “So much for any worry that you might judge me for seducing a stranger.” Despite how often their paths crossed, she knew almost nothing about him.

“No judging! But for safety’s sake, check in with me tonight and again in the morning. If I don’t get proof of life, I’m showing up at your place with Nolan.”

Morning? Recalling how good Gray looked in his black T-shirt, she shivered. What would it be like to wake up in those muscular arms? Assuming he was the kind of guy who stayed the night instead of leaving afterward.

“I’m not getting up early just so I can run out for a paper with the date on it and send you a picture,” Dani joked, “but I will text you.” She was grateful to have someone who looked out for her. The two of them had met in the waiting area of a salon four years ago, striking up conversation over the trials of curly hair in a humid climate, and now they were as close as sisters. Meg had even tried to fix up Dani with one of her brothers, saying that if things worked out they could be sisters-in-law.

“I’m keeping my phone by me for the rest of the night,” Meg said. “And hoping for salacious details.”

Dani braked at a red light, swallowing hard. The bar was on the left just on the other side of the intersection. “I’m about to turn into the parking lot.”

“Okay. All kidding aside, there’s something you should consider. As your best friend, I have to ask...are you wearing good first-impression underwear? Please tell me it’s something from the store!” Meg extended Dani a special friends-and-family discount.

Dani laughed, her nerves dissipating. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m wearing plain cotton. The set matches. Do I at least get credit for that?”

Would Gray have preferred something lacy and silk to the basic sky-blue pieces? Then again, depending on how the evening went, maybe she wouldn’t be wearing them for long.

* * *

DANI CONGRATULATED HERSELF on fitting the car into such a narrow parking space—it was admirable that she’d done a precision job considering her shaky hands and accelerated pulse. She figured the adrenaline in her system was one part nerves, two parts sheer sexual anticipation. By the time she’d taken a deep breath and gathered her purse, Gray had reached her driver-side door.

He opened the door for her and extended his hand to help her out of the car. Old-fashioned gallantry, or was he simply as eager to touch her as she was him? His fingers grazed her palm, which she’d never considered a sensitive part of her body before today. Now, sensation shivered through her.

“Thanks,” she said, hearing the slight, breathless catch in her voice.

“It seemed like the chivalrous thing to do.” Though his expression remained deadpan, wicked humor glinted in his eyes. “Wouldn’t want you to think you were out with less than a perfect gentleman.”

“Honestly? I’d rather spend tonight with an imperfect one.”

That earned her a low, rich laugh. “Then you definitely have the right guy.”

As she preceded him inside, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior. The bar had a cool, cave-like feel, with few windows overlooking the parking lot and street. But it was a classy cave—no smoke or scarred tables—boasting a quality list of domestic and imported beers.

Gray looked around. “Private booth, or would you rather sit at the bar?”

As nice as the private part sounded, she felt too restless to sit. Being this close to him had her buzzing with energy. “Third option—pool table. Do you play?”

“Yeah.” He smiled sheepishly. “But I should warn you, I can get pretty competitive.”

Something else they had in common. “That’s okay. My friend Meg says I redefine the word.” Dani had taken a game night with the Raffertys a little too seriously last summer, and Meg’s family still teased her about it. But Major Yates had raised his daughter to be goal oriented. Sportsmanship had been more of an afterthought.

Gray smirked. “Then this should be interesting.”

At the bar, they asked about table availability and got a set of balls. Cues and racks hung by the tables. The cashier assured them a waitress frequently circulated the pool area and would take their drink orders soon. To the right of the main seating area, a short set of stairs led down to a recessed pool hall. The row of six pool tables was separated from the rest of the bar with a railed half wall. The opposite wall was completely mirrored, reflecting a rainbow of neon from various beer signs.

Two of the tables were still vacant, and Dani went immediately to the one farthest from other players. A drink menu sat on the railing between a couple of leather-topped stools. Gray picked it up, flipping through the laminated pages.

“You want a look at this?” he asked.

She shook her head, gaze locked on his. “Not necessary. I know exactly what I want.”

Being cheated on was tough on a girl’s self-esteem. But with one steamy glance, Gray managed to restore any confidence she’d lost over the past month. For a second, he looked dazed, and it was heady, having an effect on a man so ridiculously sexy.

He recovered quickly. “Well, don’t be shy. Let’s hear it.”

You. On that pool table. “Draft beer.”

“So you don’t go for the froufrou drinks?” He tilted his chin toward a waitress at the far end of the pool hall. On her tray were two foamy drinks in varying shades of pink and something bright blue in a glass the size of a small fishbowl, complete with a swizzle stick of impaled fruit.

“Drinks with paper umbrellas have their place,” Dani said. “Like, if I’m poolside at some tropical resort. Champagne—expensive champagne—is for when I close on a high-dollar property, tequila shots are for bad breakups, sangria is for TV show marathons with my best friend. But draft beer is for when I’m about to kick some guy’s ass in eight ball.”

“Then maybe you should be more concerned about the right drink for when you fall a dismal second.”

She grinned, liking the pure challenge in his voice. “I don’t know what beverage that could be. You’ll have to tell me after you lose.”

The waitress reached them a few seconds later. Dani ordered a Belgian white they had on tap. Gray asked for a dark ale. As the waitress departed, the two of them selected cue sticks and continued quizzing each other on the right cocktails for increasingly absurd occasions.

“When your team wins the Super Bowl?” Gray asked.

“Alabama slammer. What about if you win an Academy Award?”

“Famous gold statue? Goldshläger, obviously. Toasting your fortieth birthday?”

“Something sophisticated and grown-up. A martini, maybe?” She shrugged. “I’m nowhere close to knowing that one.”

“Me, neither. Monday’s my thirty-fourth birthday.”

“Oh.” His birthday was in two days? “Happy birthday.”

He gave her a wolfish smile. “As early celebrations go, today has been off the charts.”

Did he see her as his gift to himself? She swallowed, hoping she lived up to his expectations. “Perfect cocktail for a zombie apocalypse?”

“Rookie mistake. Zombie apocalypse is the time to stay sober. It’s critical to keep a clear head and steady shooting hand for those all-important double taps.”

She laughed. “Good point.”

After the waitress returned with their drinks, Gray clarified that they were playing basic eight ball and that they had to call their intended shots.