Marie Harte - Closing the Deal

“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.