Читать книгу The Bridesmaid's Gifts - Gina Wilkins - Страница 10

Aislinn was taken completely off guard when Ethan asked her to dance, which perhaps explained why she couldn’t come up with a quick and polite excuse to decline. Not that there was any real reason why she shouldn’t have accepted, of course, she reminded herself as they moved toward the small dance floor. It was sort of expected for the best man and the maid of honor to share a dance.

She was aware of that same odd hesitation when he turned to take her into his arms, almost a wariness of letting him touch her. She still couldn’t understand why she felt that way around him. She’d touched nearly everyone else in this room, shaking hands in the reception line, exchanging brief social hugs with the people she had known most of her life. There had been no unusual flashes of insight, no unprecedented reactions to the physical contact. There was just something about Ethan….

“Why did you look so surprised when I asked you to dance?” he asked as soon as they music began.

Keeping as much distance between them as politely possible, she shrugged lightly before answering, “I just didn’t think you would.”

Mentally she dared him to make some smart-aleck remark about how he would have expected her to predict the invitation, but to her relief, he let it pass. Maybe he’d gotten tired of making digs about her so-called abilities. At least she hoped that was the case.

“I guess you and I haven’t gotten off to a very good start,” he said abruptly. “And I suppose that’s my fault. I’m not very good at the social thing—meeting people, making small talk. Saying the right things.”

“You choose not to be good at it because it isn’t important to you,” she murmured in return. “You’re perfectly capable of making polite conversation when you make the effort.”

She was almost surprised when he agreed with her rather than challenge her again. “You’re probably right. I just don’t choose to make the effort very often.”

“I’m not exactly a party animal either,” she admitted after a moment. “I prefer small gatherings to large crowds. And I sometimes have trouble knowing what to say to people I don’t know very well. So I’ll take part of the blame for any awkwardness between us.”

“Very generous of you.”

His tone sounded more humorous than mocking, so she smiled. “Yes, I thought so.”

He seemed to search for something else innocuous to say. “They’ll be cutting the cake soon, I guess. Will it bother you to watch them chop it up?”

“No.” She was amused by his wording. “Why would it?”

“Well, you must have spent a lot of hours on the decorations.”

“That’s my job. I charge well for my time—though I made this one as a gift to Nic and Joel.”

“Nice of you. Do you run your business out of your house or do you have a bakery with helpers?”

“I recently leased a small shop because I’d outgrown my kitchen at home. I have two part-time employees for baking and deliveries, but I do most of the work myself. I prefer it that way for now.”

“As good as you are at it, you could probably build up a pretty decent business. Hire a few more people to do the mixing and baking while you concentrate on the arty part. Maybe teach a couple to decorate in your style for everyday orders, saving yourself for the really complicated stuff. You could advertise in Little Rock and online, get your name out there….”

Laughing a little, she tilted her head to look up at him, seeing a gleam in his eyes that had nothing to do with her and everything to do with her business. “Hey, just because you’re here to organize Joel’s office, don’t make the mistake of thinking I want the same thing. I’m perfectly happy with my little operation and I’m making enough to take care of my needs for now.”

“For now, maybe,” he agreed, “but what about the future? You should be thinking about—”

“Ethan, this is a wedding reception, not a business conference.”

His mouth quirked in a slight smile. “I’m painfully aware of that.”

The weak joke passed by her as she found herself staring at his mouth. If just that hint of a smile had softened his expression so much, she couldn’t imagine how much a full-blown grin would change him. Though she had a strong feeling few people saw him that happy and relaxed, she wished she could see him smile like that, just once. Only to satisfy her curiosity, of course.

He glanced toward the band. “They’re pretty good, considering how young they are.”

“Yes. They’re going to hit it big,” she agreed absently, still thinking about Ethan’s smile.

He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Was that just a guess?”

Feeling the muscles of her stomach tighten, she nodded coolly. “Of course. They’re very talented. Why wouldn’t they be successful?”

Aislinn knew very well that they were listening to a young band who would eventually be stars in their genre. A guess? Maybe, though without the doubt that usually accompanied a shot in the dark. Intuition was a more comfortable word for her—one she found easier to accept. Whatever lay behind her occasional predictions, she had enough experience with them to know that she was rarely wrong.

None of which she had any intention of discussing—especially with Ethan, who had made his doubts about her very clear.

She was rather relieved when the song came to an end. She stepped away from him with a bright smile. “I guess I’d better get back to mingling.”

He nodded, his own expression unreadable as he studied her face. “I’ll walk you back to your table.”

Because she didn’t want to rebuff him when he was making an effort to be sociable, she nodded and fell into step beside him. On the way back to the corner where she had been sitting with Susan and Paul, they passed a table at which Ethan’s parents sat chatting with the minister and his wife.

Elaine Brannon smiled approvingly at Ethan as they walked by, and Aislinn suspected that Elaine had pretty much ordered her older son to participate in the party. Had his mother been the reason he had asked her to dance?

Glancing at Ethan, she noted the expression in his eyes when he looked at his mother and she caught her breath. There was something she suddenly wanted to tell him, but she hesitated, knowing how he would react.

Maybe she should just keep her mouth shut. After all, these feelings of hers came with no guarantees. She and Ethan had just had a pleasant dance, ending on a fairly friendly note, for them. Why make waves now?

She sighed, aware that she was wasting time arguing with herself. After seeing the worry in Ethan’s eyes and knowing it was eating at him, she had to at least attempt to set his mind at ease.

“You don’t have to worry about your mother, Ethan,” she murmured, turning to him just before they reached her table. “She’ll be fine.”

His brows dipped into a frown. “What are you talking about?”

“The tests will be clear,” she continued quickly, before she changed her mind. “The mass is benign—nothing to be concerned about. So try not to worry too much about it.”

“How did you—?”

“It’s just a feeling I have, okay?” Anxious to get away from him now, she turned toward the table. “Thank you for the dance, Ethan. I’ll see you.”

He caught her arm. “Aislinn…”

Maybe it was because she hadn’t braced herself this time. Hadn’t been prepared for the touch. But she felt the jolt of reaction run through her, all the way from the contact between his hand and the skin of her arm to someplace hidden very deeply inside her. A place she had never wanted to examine very closely herself.

Something changed in his expression, irritation replaced instantly by reluctant concern. His hand tightened around her arm. “Aislinn? Damn it, you’ve gone white as a sheet. What’s going on?”

“I—uh—”

“Aislinn?” Nic appeared suddenly at her other side, looking quickly from Aislinn to Ethan. “Is anything wrong?”

“I—” Abruptly brought back to the present, she looked around, relieved to see that no one else seemed to be looking at them. Not at the moment, anyway. “I think I need some fresh air. If you’ll excuse me…”

“I’ll go with you.”

Aislinn forced a smile for her friend and spoke brusquely. “You’ll do no such thing. This is your wedding reception. Go find your groom and dance again. I just need a couple of minutes alone. You know how I am when a lot of people are around.”

Because she did know, Nic backed off. “All right. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Without looking at Ethan again, Aislinn made her escape, wishing she could go straight home but knowing she had to stay a while longer yet. For Nic.

Ethan woke early Sunday morning with that sense of disorientation that usually accompanied waking in a strange bed. It took him only a moment to remind himself that he was in his brother’s guest room, the only occupant of the house since Joel and Nic had left after the reception for a weeklong Caribbean honeymoon—the longest either of them could take away from their demanding careers. Ethan would stay here until they returned, at which time—assuming everything at Joel’s office was running smoothly—he would head back to Alabama.

Joel had invited his parents to stay at the house, too, but they had chosen to stay in a nearby hotel instead, planning an early departure this morning. Their father was eager to get back to his routines. It was going to take a lot of persuasion for Elaine to get him away for that European vacation she longed for, Ethan thought with a shake of his head. Lou Brannon was the very epitome of a contented homebody. Something Ethan understood a bit too well.

Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, he saw that it was just after seven. Yet he’d bet his parents were already on the road. His dad liked to get an early start.

So here he was, the only member of his family in a town where he hardly knew anyone. During the five days he had been here, he’d spent several hours at Joel’s clinic, meeting the partner and staff, looking over the operations with an eye toward streamlining bookkeeping and maximizing profits. Joel and Bob were literally putting their business into his hands.

He and their newly hired office manager, Marilyn Henderson, would meet with several software salespeople during the next week, as well as have long discussions about existing office practices. They would pore over the books and filing systems, deciding what to change and what to leave alone—though there would be very little of the latter.

Joel and Bob were great guys and excellent doctors, but neither of them had paid much attention to the business part of the practice they had opened just under two years earlier. They could definitely use some help in that area, and Ethan already had a plan in mind. Fortunately Marilyn seemed to be in agreement about the way a pleasant yet efficient medical office should be managed.

Since he was alone in the house, he pulled on a pair of jeans and zipped them but left the snap undone. Barefoot and shirtless, he wandered into the kitchen, yawning and wondering what Joel had left for breakfast. He found orange juice in the refrigerator and poured himself a glass, then popped a bagel into the toaster. Only then did he admit that from the moment he’d opened his eyes he had been trying without success to forget about Aislinn Flaherty.

He had every intention of avoiding her for the remainder of his stay in Cabot. Shouldn’t be too hard. He doubted that she would visit the pediatric practice. And he wouldn’t be ordering any cakes.

He’d given up trying to decide if she was crooked or crazy, but her comment about his mother’s upcoming medical tests had made a cold chill go down his spine. He’d known for a fact that no one knew about those tests except his parents and himself. Just to confirm, he’d casually asked his mother afterward if she had mentioned the situation to anyone else. Anyone at all.

She had reminded him that she wanted to keep the tests absolutely secret until after she learned the results. She had been especially adamant that Joel was not to be told until after his honeymoon.

So how had Aislinn known?

He knew that so-called psychic con artists performed what were known as cold readings—throwing out vague comments and then watching carefully for the most minute changes in expression and subtle body language from their gullible marks. But as far as he’d been able to tell, Aislinn hadn’t prefaced her remarks about his mother’s health with anything he would have considered fishing for clues. And she hadn’t spent much time talking alone to either of his parents, so he kept coming back to the same question….

How had she known?

Not that he had changed his mind about her alleged abilities. Guess or guile, she hadn’t just pulled that prediction out of the ether. And while he fervently hoped she was right about the tests resulting in good news, he would consider it no more than a happy coincidence if it turned out to be true.

Just as well he wouldn’t be seeing her again anytime soon, he told himself as he finished his breakfast. He was just too uncomfortable around her, for quite a few reasons.

Someone rang the front doorbell, startling him as he set his dishes in the dishwasher. He pushed a hand through his tousled hair and moved toward the front door. He couldn’t imagine who would be at Joel’s door on a Sunday morning when everyone knew Joel was out of town. Maybe his parents hadn’t gotten that early start after all.

Having no psychic abilities of his own, he was surprised to find Aislinn on the other side of the door. She wore a gray T-shirt, jeans and sneakers, her dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail, no evidence of makeup on her striking face. She looked as though she had crawled out of bed, thrown on the first clothes she’d found and driven straight over. “What are you doing here?”

She didn’t appear to take offense at the blunt greeting. “I need to talk to you.”

“What about?”

She sighed. “May I come inside?”

For only a moment, he hesitated, tempted to close the door in her face. He finally stepped aside, not because he didn’t want to be rude but because he didn’t want to think of himself as a coward.

“Okay,” he said, facing her from several feet away, his arms crossed over his bare chest. “What is it? Another ‘prediction’?”

She looked around the room, her expression distracted, and then she turned and moved toward the hallway. Frowning, Ethan dropped his arms and followed her. “Where are you going?”

Without answering, she turned left, into Joel’s bedroom rather than into the guest room on the right where Ethan had been staying.

“Aislinn, what the hell are you—”

“There’s a photograph,” she said vaguely. “I need to—oh, here it is.”

The small, framed photo sat on top of a bookcase in one corner. The paperback mysteries Joel liked to read to relax at bedtime filled the bookcase almost to overflowing. On the wall above hung a framed watercolor painting of a peaceful lake cove surrounded by trees and boulders. Joel was the artist; until Nic had told him a few months earlier, Ethan hadn’t even known Joel liked painting with watercolors.

“You sure know your way around Joel’s house,” he muttered as Aislinn picked up the photograph.

“I’ve never been inside this house before,” she replied absently. “We’ve always gathered at Nic’s instead.”

So how had she…? Shaking his head impatiently, he told himself that he had no way of judging if she was even telling the truth. “Okay, what’s going on?”

She drew a deep breath and looked at him. He noted abruptly that she still looked as oddly pale as she had when they’d parted last night. Perhaps that was why it was no surprise when she warned, “You aren’t going to like this.”

He was pretty sure that would prove to be an understatement.

Aislinn had been too focused on finding the photograph to pay much more than passing attention to Ethan when he’d let her in. She’d managed maybe two hours of sleep last night before she had finally given in to the overwhelming urge to drive to Joel’s house. She’d waited as long as she could, doubting that Ethan would appreciate being awakened before dawn so she could find a photograph that was haunting her. Not that he’d been overjoyed to see her as it was.

Only now did she really look at him. He, too, seemed to have only recently crawled out of bed. His hair was mussed, he hadn’t shaved and he wasn’t wearing a shirt or shoes. His jeans weren’t snapped. A stark contrast to the tidy and tuxedoed groomsman she had seen the evening before, she thought.

She wondered if it was weird that she thought he looked even better like this than he had at the wedding. More natural. This was the real Ethan—and despite his forbidding expression, he was a very attractive man.

Pulling her gaze away from the well-defined muscles of his lean chest and abdomen, she moistened her dry lips, her fingers tightening around the small silver frame clutched in her hands. She wasn’t exactly sure how to begin, since she already knew he wasn’t going to believe a word she said.

“Well?” he prompted impatiently.

Might as well stop stalling. She turned the photo toward him. “You recognize this picture, of course.”

He glanced at it, then shrugged. “It’s my family, obviously. Some thirty years ago.”

“Your father. Your mother. You.” She pointed to each figure as she named them. Ethan was perhaps six in the photograph, maybe seven. She indicated the younger boy next to him. “And this is Joel.”

Ethan nodded, a muscle clenching in his jaw as they both turned their attention to the baby sitting in Elaine’s lap.

“Who is this?”

For just a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer. And then he muttered, “That’s Kyle. I assume you already know he died when he was almost two.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, making the muscles bulge just a little. If he was trying to look intimidating, he succeeded. Of course, he also looked sexy as all get-out, but she couldn’t think about that right now.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Please, Ethan. Just humor me for a few minutes. I know this must be difficult for you.”

“It happened a long time ago,” he said with a slight shrug. “I hardly remember him.”

It took no special ability at all for her to know that he was lying. She looked at him without responding.

After a moment he shook his head and spoke curtly. “He drowned. It happened during the aftermath of a tropical storm. There had been a lot of flooding, a lot of local destruction, and even though the weather was still bad, Mom had gone out with one of her charity groups to try to help some of the people who had suffered the most damage to their homes. Dad was at his office, making sure everything there was okay. They left Joel with the nanny who took care of us while Mom was busy with her volunteer work, which was pretty often back then.”

“And there was an accident?”

He nodded. “Joel and I were spending the week with our maternal grandparents in Tennessee, as we did every summer while they were living. Mom thought Kyle was still too small to be gone for that long. Anyway, for some reason, the nanny took him out during that heavy rain. No one knows why they left the house. They were in her car, a cheapie little compact.”

He cleared his throat, then continued, “Apparently she hydroplaned, went off the road and was swept into a flooding river. The car was found a few days later, overturned in very deep water, but it was empty. Several other people drowned during that same tropical storm and resulting flood. There was another man whose body wasn’t recovered for several months, but neither the nanny’s body nor my brother’s was ever found.”

There was no identifiable emotion in his tone, though his eyes looked darker than usual. He obviously believed every word of the sad story he had just told her. The story that had been told to him.

She moistened her lips again. “It isn’t true,” she whispered.

He frowned more deeply at her. “What isn’t true?”

“Any of it. I mean, I know that’s what you think happened. What you all believe. But…”

Ethan’s arms dropped to his sides, the fists clenched. He took a step toward her, making her instinctively move backward. “If you’re going to try to feed me a load of crap about how you’ve been talking to my dead brother…”

“No!” She shook her head forcefully. “It’s not like that, Ethan. I’m not a medium. And even if I were, it wouldn’t apply in this case.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?”

She drew a deep breath, then blurted out the words before she could lose her nerve. “Kyle isn’t dead.”