Closing the Deal (3 page)

Or so he kept trying to convince himself.

He leaned forward to turn on the radio. Sydney didn’t so much as flinch, her attention seemingly on the neighborhoods they passed, though he knew she was aware of every move he made.

Derrick had it bad for Sydney, and it made him nervous. He wanted to chalk up his fascination to an obsession. Dylan had been right. The Warren twins never got turned down. Of course, the Warren twins were also smart enough to engage the right women. Or men, in Dylan’s case.

Derrick had a type. Pretty, available, slightly aloof. He’d been blessed with good genes, and he made the most of them. Working out helped him stay healthy, and was an added bonus in his business. On occasion he helped Gage and the crews on site when they were down a man. Besides, the ladies liked the muscle.

Did Sydney like it? “Hmm.”

“What?” She turned to him, her dark blue eyes brimming with suspicion.

“Um, is the music okay?” A local country station. Gage and his cowboy blues.

“Whatever.”

Derrick gritted his teeth. The woman was not going to make this easy. In one respect, he admired her for it. He liked a woman who valued her worth. Sydney Fields not only had beauty and brains, but a good self-image. One he hadn’t helped by letting Brittney bitch about her looks.

“Okay, I’m just gonna say it. I’m fucking
sorry
.”

“Oh?”

He scowled. He hadn’t meant to swear. “I am. I had no intention of doing anything with you but having a nice dinner at Sundance. We’d had weeks of buildup. Talking and stuff. I liked it.” Surprisingly, he had. “I was really looking forward to our date together. I swear. Then Brittney ruined it with her big mouth and her crying.”

“And her fake breasts and bad dye-job,” Sydney added in a low voice. “She had the nerve to talk about
my
hair?”

He blinked at her and quickly brought his attention back to the road. So much for her bland attitude. That temper that so turned him on had returned. Even when she’d been pissed as hell at him in that restaurant, he’d been on fire to have her. Hell. His cock was killing him.

“Uh, yeah. Look, she and I ended things months ago. I don’t know why she acted that way, and I’m sorry she did.”

He could feel her looking at him and wished he’d waited until they reached his place before confronting her about the matter. But he couldn’t let it go unsaid another minute. He’d rather she raged at him than pretend indifference.

“Derrick, let’s face it. Our date would have been a mistake anyway. We’d have had dinner, maybe headed back to your place or mine, screwed like bunnies and gone our separate ways. I’d have hurt your feelings or you’d have acted like an ass, and then we’d hate each other. At least this way we can be friendly for Gage and Hailey. It means a lot to her—that’s why I’m here.”

Oh sure. Don’t let me mistake the reason you agreed to be anywhere near me.
And please God let me forget that part about screwing like bunnies.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t think you’re right, but I’d like to be friends for Gage’s sake. So I’m going to continue with the rest of tonight. We’ll go back to my place and have dinner,” he said over her objections. “Just dinner, where we can talk. Then I’ll drive you home. Okay?”

“Just as friends.”

“Yeah.” If he had his way, friends with benefits. A part of him wanted more, but just thinking about permanence and forever gave him hives. He had to get the damn woman out of his system before he fell any harder for her.

“Well, if you’re sure.” She bit her lower lip, and it was all he could do to return his attention to the road.

He nodded.

“Okay. Then I forgive you for being a complete shithead at the restaurant. It wasn’t your fault your ex thought she had the right to treat me like crap and embarrass me in front of the entire restaurant. I’m sure the bleach in her hair tampered with the space between her ears and tainted her limited ability to think. That or the weight of those implants made it hard to focus on anything but standing up straight.”

Derrick blinked. “That’s forgiveness?”

“Do you have a problem with anything I just said?”

“No, no. Not at all.” He pulled into his driveway and parked, his heart hammering at the thought of finally having Sydney Fields all to himself. “So just between us friends, how about a nice dinner and maybe a glass of wine or two?”

She shrugged. “Why not?”

Why not?
She needed to have her head examined. If she kept this up, the blasted man would charm her right out of her panties and into his bed. He wore jeans that molded to his fine ass and thick thighs. Tall, with broad shoulders, the man could wear anything and make it look good. The cable-knit sweater clung to his arms, and the sage green color made his eyes look like mossy invitations to say yes. Yes to anything he freaking wanted.

He smiled at her across the table. “You like the lasagna?”

“Love it.” She smiled back and took another look around. He lived in a swanky neighborhood she’d planned to show to Brian. Acred lots, homes that started at three thousand square feet and up and a nice ratio of professionals and families occupied the neighborhood.

She would have pegged him as a bachelor pad kind of guy. This was much more inviting. And unexpected. Comfortable yet quality leather furniture, bookshelves lined with history texts and DVDs, pictures of his friends and family—mostly his family. And of course, a huge-screen television. Masculine but not overdone. She wondered who’d helped him design the place. His mother? A girlfriend? Brittney? God, she should have bitch-slapped the woman in addition to dousing her with wine.

The minute she thought it, she wanted to slap herself. How clichéd. Women fighting over a man. But at least it beat crying over one. A niggle of guilt intruded when she recalled Brittney’s tears. Still, balanced against the
fat ass
comment, the blonde deserved that wine in her face.

“Like the house?”

She nodded. “I’m surprised.”

“What? That my furniture isn’t made of cardboard and my dishes recycled pizza boxes? Or that I didn’t set out to wine and dine you into bed?”

His crooked smile made her press her legs together. So
not good to want him this much.
I need to get laid like nobody’s business.

“All of the above, I think.”

He chuckled. “I design houses, so no way I’d go with something less than quality. My dad designed these homes, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. A few years before he passed away.” A shadow crossed his face then disappeared. “But we didn’t build it. Warren Construction, I mean. I got it for a decent price, though.” He smiled. “Funny, I could have bought it from you and met you sooner.”

She tried to ignore the flutter in her heart. This man was the one she’d talked to on the phone at three in the morning. This Derrick made her laugh and encouraged her to share her secrets. God, he seemed so real, so human, so caring… She cleared her throat. “If you bought it when I was working for Simpson Realty, I doubt they would have given me a big fish like you.”

He scoffed, “Big fish? More like small fry. I like my job with Gage, but we’re not the top of the food chain by any means.”

To her bemusement, Derrick didn’t seem to be trying to be humble. He
was
humble, at least about his business.

And she liked him all the more because of it. She wiped her mouth with her napkin and watched the play of light over his face. “There’s something I have to know.”

He put his drink down and waited, his gaze pensive. And then his stare slipped to her mouth for a second and she found it hard to breathe.

“Yeah?” Had his voice always been that low and sexy?

“How much crap have you taken from your family for what happened between us?”

His lips curled, and her fingers itched to trace the line of his grin. “How much time do you have? I was forced to take advice from Gage. The little shit thinks he knows everything about women now because he landed Hailey. And I’m still not sure how that happened.”

Sydney grinned with him.

“Dylan gave me all kinds of advice.”

“The flowers and the cards, right?”

He sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t believe those came from me without help. Okay, yeah. He suggested that. But my mother…” He shuddered. “The woman made me lie down on her couch and gave me therapy. Sydney, you have no idea how awkward it is to hear your mother talking about sexual feelings.”

She laughed, imagining his pain. “Good. Serves you right.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You really pissed me off in that restaurant. I still think you got off lightly.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. I have no idea why Brittney acted that way. We broke up six months ago. And then she was at the restaurant crying and insulting you. Crazy.”

“She didn’t like seeing you with another woman, I’ll bet.” Sydney liked the fact that he looked uncomfortable. Derrick wasn’t a guy who went through women like M&Ms.

“Not one that looked like you. You’re a knockout and you know it.”

She tried not to preen at that, but she couldn’t help it. “Oh? So you’re not into skinny blondes anymore, is that it?”

He didn’t look away from her mouth, and she licked her lips, deliberately teasing.

His eyes smoldered. “You really like living dangerously, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” He seemed closer. Their good time shifted from fun to sexually intense in a heartbeat.

She took a hasty sip of wine. He leaned across the table, and she half hoped and half worried he’d kiss her. God, she’d jump him for sure and wouldn’t let go until she’d come, at least once. No way was this man a dud, not with the chemistry zinging back and forth between them.

Derrick lifted a finger and brushed her lips, leaving a blaze of heat in his wake. He brought his finger to his mouth and sucked it clean. “I know how much you like a nice Pinot Noir. I like your taste in wine, Syd.”

She couldn’t look away from his lips, mesmerized by the motion of his mouth. Wine that had been on
her
lips touched
his
. She had a hard time breathing past her desire for a kiss. Then he quirked his lips and showed off his killer smile.

Her willpower to resist sunk like the Titanic.

“You’re here at my mercy, and you’re still mouthing off.” He reached for her again and…grabbed the bottle by her plate. He winked. “But since I’m trying to get back on your good side, I’m going to let you get away with a lot tonight.” He poured her more wine and sat back with a satisfied smile.

Get away with what? Tackling him to the floor and mounting him? He’d seemed so close to kissing her. But he hadn’t. She wanted to call him out for teasing her, but that would mean admitting she’d wanted him to plant his lips on her. Which she hadn’t, shouldn’t…
Hell.

He changed the subject to the meal, pointing out all of her favorite things. The wine, the food, the salad dressing. Impressed he’d done his research, she relaxed and found herself enjoying the conversation. They spent the rest of the meal talking about Gage and Hailey, a neutral enough subject considering how much they both cared for the pair.

After dinner, Derrick wouldn’t let her clear a plate or lift a finger, and for once, Sydney didn’t push. He wanted to make it up to her? Fine. She’d enjoyed dinner. Maybe she’d have a bit of coffee, since she smelled it brewing. And then she’d head home to a lonely house and no doubt dream about Derrick.

“Why don’t you go to the couch? I’ll finish with these.” He cleaned up a few more plates. He’d pushed up his sleeves, exposing strong, corded forearms. Dear Lord. It felt too hot all of a sudden.

She gratefully went into the living room and sat on his leather sectional. Taking the heels from her feet, she propped her legs up on an ottoman and let her head fall back. What a day.

She’d spent her morning wrangling with a broker and had a long conference with Lena about how to market their services to more clientele. Then a search around a few newer neighborhoods for Brian, topped off by an afternoon convincing the Miller couple they’d found the perfect house—and for five grand under the asking price, even. She’d nailed the sale. It had been a decent commission for her, and a terrific feeling that she’d made the young couple very happy. And then Hailey had shown up with Derrick.

Large hands on her feet shocked a gasp out of her.

“Shh, easy. I promise not to fondle more than your feet unless you ask.”

“Jerk.”

He smirked at her and rubbed her soles, and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped. “Your shoes are sexy as hell, but obviously they hurt.”

“The price of beauty.” She moaned again. Under shuttered lids, she watched him.

He sat on the ottoman next to the one she’d claimed, his gaze fixed intently on her feet. His calloused hands were warm, firm and sent bolts of pleasure from her heels and arches to every cell in her body.

Though she’d tried to resist, she could feel herself growing wet.

She shifted on the seat and tried to scoot back, but he wouldn’t let her.

“Uh-uh. I’m still apologizing. Let me.”

Now feeling a little silly that she’d blamed him for Brittney’s bad behavior, she tugged again.

“Be still.”

The gravelly command eased a groan out of her. “Then stop being so sexy.”

He paused.

Her cheeks blazed with heat. God, what a moron. Had she said that out loud? No more wine for her tonight.

His low chuckle eased her nerves. “Good to know you don’t see me as a jerk anymore.”

“Who said?” She tried to shrug off her gaff. “Jerks can be sexy.”

“Now, Sydney. Let’s not be mean.” To her shock, his hands left her foot and continued up her calf.

The touch felt better than good. Nothing about the caress was sexual, yet her nipples were harder than nails and her panties would need a good washing.

“I swear, I’m not going any higher than this.”

Not even if I beg you?
She cleared her throat. “Good to know.” Damn. That sounded a lot huskier than she’d meant it to.

He smiled again but said nothing more.