Marie Harte - Closing the Deal

“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 out 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?”

Yes. “Hell no.”

“Afraid I might have her out of those panties before we get to dessert?”

“I swear to God, Dylan,” Barbara said from behind him. “You and I really need to have a talk.”

Dylan froze and crossed his eyes. Then he slumped and banged his forehead on the countertop while Gage and Derrick howled with laughter.

“I swear. It’s like she’s psychic,” Dylan muttered. “You never hear my sage points, Mom. Only when I get crass, and I only do it so Derrick and your baby-maker can understand me.”

Gage frowned. “Quit calling me that.”

“Yes, Dylan. Stop baiting Gage.” Barbara sighed. “Why don’t you find a nice girl or boy to bring home and I’ll pay you the attention you feel you need.”

“Mom,” Dylan protested, but she cut him off.

“Otherwise you wouldn’t be calling your brother names. It’s jealousy, plain and simple.”

While Dylan argued with her about his true feelings, Derrick nudged Gage aside and helped him put a few groceries away. “So where’s Hailey?”

“Where do you think?” Gage said in a low voice. “Getting the lowdown from you-know-who.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.”

“Yeah, you do.” Gage grinned. “And for all those comments, making fun of me with Hailey? Remember? How lame I was to be falling for that chick with the great rack ?”

Derrick groaned at the reminder.

“Well, take a look in the mirror, dude. You’re about ten times worse than I was. At least Hailey was talking to me.”

“Sydney’s talking to me too. And I’m not falling for her. Sure, she’s smart and funny. Nice, sexy. So what?”

He realized the room had fallen silent.

“Smart and sexy? Interesting combination, Derrick.” His mother started the eggs and watched him with that clinical expression he hated. “So unlike your usual type.”

He scoffed, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him. “I don’t have a type.”

“Yeah, you do.” Dylan ticked off his fingers. “Dim, long legs, wealthy, hot, large breasts. Sorry, Mom, but blame yourself for breastfeeding us.”

“Christ, Dylan.” Derrick ran a hand over his face, thoroughly disgusted.

Even Gage looked green. “Really, Dylan.”