Good with His Hands

by Tanya Michaels

  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

  DANI 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 middl
e 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.

  * * *

  MEG 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.