Closing the Deal (Wicked Warrens, #2)

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Closing the Deal (Wicked Warrens, #2) Page 3

by Marie Harte


  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, never to be seen again.

  “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 long 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.

  He treated her other leg to the same gentle pressure, turning her into a pile of melted yes in minutes.

  “That good?”

  “Oh, you have no idea.”

  “I think I do.” He suddenly stood, and she stared at the evidence of his erection through his jeans.

  Would he make his move? Pressure her to have sex? She wasn’t sure she’d say no, and she didn’t know how to handle him. Should she be nice and say yes to reward him for good behavior? He had cooked her a terrific meal—or, at least, someone had, since it had been waiting for them when they’d arrived. He’d been an actual entertaining date. Apologetic, charming, polite. She had to check herself to keep from drooling.

  And then to touch her like that... He’d drained the day’s tension out of her with his hands, while arousing her at the same time.

  “Now let’s get you home, Syd.”

  She blinked and let him help her stand. Like Prince Charming, he crouched down and eased her feet into her heels one at a time.

  Staring down at his thick hair, she had the urge to run her fingers through it. But she didn’t. She didn’t know what to think, how to feel. What the hell?

  Derrick, as good as his word, walked her out and back to Gage’s truck. He drove her to her house without needing directions. Then he walked her to the door.

  He handed her a key. “Hailey made sure I had this to give to you. And she’s hoping you’re not too mad to call her tomorrow and tell her if I acted like a complete ass or not.”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “At least I can get in, and my car’s here.” The silver vehicle sat in her driveway, good as new.

  Derrick raised his hand. She froze. He stroked her cheek with his finger, lingering over her cheekbones and trailing over her lips. “Thanks for dinner, Sydney. It meant a lot to me.” He dropped his hand and picked up her limp one. He gave the back of her hand a chaste kiss and took a step back.

  To her confusion, he was still aroused, though he seemed in no hurry to remedy the situation.

  “Good night.” She waved, wondering what he’d do.

  He nodded. “Good night.” Then he left.

  The bastard.

  Chapter Three

  “So?”

  Sydney glared at her alarm clock, then at her best friend. Hailey had arrived at a god-awful early hour. And she’d invaded Sydney’s sanctum, her bedroom. The woman sat on her bed, bunching covers and exposing Sydney’s bare legs to the cold October morning.

  “You’re just begging for a beating, blondie.”

  “Oh, hell. Here. Now talk.” Hailey handed her a cup of hazelnut latte, by the smell of it.

  Sydney inhaled, sat up and smiled. “Oh, yeah.” After a good jolt of caffeine, she managed another frown. “It’s not even ten on a Saturday morning, and here you are, all yellow-haired and perky. Can’t you engaged types go cuddle at this hour and leave your best friends alone?”

  “We could, but then we’d have no idea how the date went. Well? Are you and Derrick friends again?”

  Were they? Sydney didn’t know. “He acted like a perfect gentleman. Did he make the lasagna?”

  “Probably. Barbara made sure her sons could cook at an early age. Well, except for Gage. I think she spoiled him.”

  Sydney sighed. “Look, I’m just going to say this once. Derrick Warren is not as bad as I thought. Happy now?”

  “Ha! I knew it!”

  “Now go away and bother someone else.” Some other frustrated, confused woman. Like... “How about Faith? What’s she up to?”

  “Oh no. I’m not leaving you until I have details. Tell me.”

  “Why are you being so mean to me?” Sydney whined. “Besides, of the two of us, Faith is more pathetic. Ever since she saw the light and broke it off with Dr. Sphincter—”

  “That’s Pinchter,” Hailey corrected while laughing.

  “Same difference. Anyway, she’s sworn off men. Personally, I’m glad she’s no longer being an idiot. Rich and handsome does not make a good man. But not dating isn’t healthy. Go infect her with your bubbly personality.”

  “Not dating isn’t healthy. Neither is serial dating. You know, you and Derrick are a lot alike.”

  “Shut up, Hailey.”

  “You both won’t commit. He dates a ton of women—one at a time, mind you. And you won’t go out with any guy for longer than a month.”

  Sydney guzzled her latte and prayed for patience. “Not true.”

  “Really?”

  She frowned, but to her annoyance, she couldn’t come up with an example to counter the argument. “My problem is simple. I don’t trust men. Period. But look at my history. My mother slept with a bazillion men, and I grew up thinking anyone named Uncle shared a bed with Mommy.”

  “Gross.”

  “And yet heart-wrenching. Out of pity, leave me alone. Please.”

  Hailey socked her on the arm. “You wish.”

  Groaning, Sydney ran a hand through her hair. “Then make yourself useful and fry me up some bacon. I’m starving.”

  Hailey’s grin grew so wide it threatened to split her head in half.

  “What?” Sydney snapped, never at her best before noon, and never less so than this particular morning.

  “You want him. Bacon is your tell, lady. You want Derrick Warren. Bad.”

  “Bitch.” Sydney grabbed for her but Hailey danced away singing Sydney and Derrick sitting in a tree, K-i-s-s-i-n-g. “And for the record, this isn’t fourth grade!”

  ♥

  Across town, Derrick sat with Dylan at the center island in his mother’s kitchen, waiting for Gage to return with their mother. Golden boy had gone shopping with her first thing this morning to get groceries for their weekly family breakfast. Now that Gage had Hailey, he sometimes brought her by as well.

  Truth to tell, this morning Derrick didn’t want to see anyone with two X chromosomes if he could help it. Except for his mother, because, well, as much as she annoyed him with that therapy crap, the woman had given him some shrewd insight into Sydney. And hell, she was his mother; he loved her.

  “So how’d it go?” Dylan asked. The clothes horse wore slacks, not jeans, and a Polo sweater to combat the cooling weather.

  Derrick gripped his mug, aware of his threadbare jeans and sweatshirt. “How is it we’re twins again?” The look he gave Dylan’s designer watch said volumes.

  Dylan grinned. “You got lucky, hotshot. That’s how.” He opened his mouth to say something else and stopped. He glanced around him cautiously, no doubt wary of speaking his mind. Every time Dylan said something off-color, their mother caught him. It was a little eerie how good she’d become doing it.

  “She’s not here.” Derrick took a sip of coffee, more than grateful for the caffeine. He’d spent a hellish night trying to sleep after Sydney’s visit. Only a quick session masturbating to fantasies of the redhead had cooled his jets enough to allow him to get to any rest.

  He was so screwed.

  “So. Sydney. How did it go?”

  “How do you think it went?”

  “Well, if you did what Mom and I told you, she should have been putty in your hands.”

  And she had been. But damn if he could figure out why he hadn’t taken advantage. Derrick had seen the attraction. Hell, he’d felt it well enough. But when she’d been lying there on the couch, so boneless in his hands, she’d seemed tired, vulnerable. He couldn’t take advantage of her like that. So he’d bundled her up and ushered her home before he forgot his good intentions.

  I am such a dumbass. One good fuck and I’d be over her already. Then Derrick’s inner lie detector buzzed the truth o
ut of him. Oh really? Over her? Please. You like her, asswipe. Admit it and see what she’s all about. You know you want to.

  Man, sometimes he hated being honest with himself. “Thanks for making the lasagna, by the way.”

  Dylan shrugged. “Sure.”

  “I had all her favorite stuff there. The meal, the wine. Even the kind of coffee she likes. But we never got to that. After I fell all over myself apologizing...” which he still didn’t agree with, but for Sydney, fine “...we had a pretty good time.”

  “You slept with her?” Dylan stared, wide-eyed. “That wasn’t the plan.”

  “No, dumbass.” He smacked Dylan upside the head.

  “Ow.”

  “I didn’t fuck her. We sat and talked together. Then I rubbed her feet. She was worn out.” And so sexy, all sleepy and soft. Not the way she normally presented herself to the world.

  “Whoa. What’s that look?” Dylan stared at him in fascination.

  “What look?”

  “That. That sappy, I like her like her look.”

  “Like her like her? What the hell does that mean?”

  Dylan didn’t have to say anything. The hell of it was, Derrick knew damn well what Dylan meant. Just as Dylan knew what he felt.

  “You have it bad, brother.” Dylan shook his head. “I should have seen it coming when you kept pestering the kid for her number.” The kid meaning Gage. “I think it’s time I talked to her.”

  “No.” Derrick didn’t want her scared off by Dylan and his shrinkiness. Or worse, that she might become infatuated with the wrong Warren twin. They’d had their share of partners over the years who had switched preferences during the course of a relationship. But none of those had mattered. Sydney mattered.

  “Tell me, Derrick. What exactly did you guys talk about? Gage? Mom? Me?”

  Derrick huffed. “The world does not revolve around you, Dr. Dork.”

  “Immature, but then, I’d expect that of you. I am older.”

  “By two minutes.” He frowned. He hated being reminded that Dylan outranked him, that he even cared and that Dylan knew it.

  His brother smirked. “So what’s the big deal if I take Sydney out to dinner? I like her style. Hailey’s told me all about her. And the way she reacted to you shows her to be a smart woman. You afraid she might prefer me over you?”

 

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