She sat back up. "It should be. I'm just not sure I want the world to know they got those dresses at my store."
He started to smile. "Uh oh. What's wrong with them?"
"Nothing. Everything." She put her head back down on the counter.
He shook his head. "I don't get it."
She turned her head sideways to look at him. "Neither do I. It's just – the dresses that they've chosen. They're not my normal stock. To be truthful, I'd thought of getting rid of them."
"They can't be that bad – you wouldn't have bought them in the first place."
She winced. "I was having a bad day." She waved her hand. "Anyways, I was really hoping for a boost in business. I'd hoped that if everyone knew the bridesmaid dresses were from my salon it might increase my online sales. It's a side of the business that I've never really developed."
The smile left Adam's face. "Why not?"
"I just never got around to it. It didn't seem as important as the actual salon stuff. But now … Mags sorted out a website for me. If this thing with Nancy's wedding takes off – it could be the difference between having a mildly successful business – a rip-roaring business or … ," her voice tailed off.
"Or what?" He sounded serious.
"It could be the nail in the coffin." She sighed again. "I'm just not sure about these dresses."
"Surely a dress is just a dress?" He reached out and took her hand, wrapping his warm hand around hers.
She shook her head. He was a guy. He just didn't get it. "Dr. Brady, you obviously know nothing about weddings. The dress is the single most important thing that you have to get absolutely right. On most occasions, a bride will step into a dress – often one they didn't even intend to try – step in front of a mirror and know it's just right."
Adam was obviously trying to make it look as if all of this wasn't going straight over his head. "So, I'm obviously a novice at these things. Is it the same with the bridesmaid dresses?"
She groaned and shook her head. "It's almost the opposite. Usually the bridesmaids end up in a style or color they would never wear in a million years. This time was different. Ruby and Polly couldn't agree on anything."
"And they finally agreed to something in your shop? Surely that's good?"
"It would be – if they'd picked something I loved and was proud to stock. Something I wanted the world to know was mine." She leaned on one hand. "I'm just worried that the press will hate the style and color and my salon's reputation is ruined – before I've even got it off the ground."
Adam leaned a little closer and she got a waft of his aftershave. The same one he'd worn last night. For an instant it took her right back there. The feel of his skin against hers, the stubbled jaw scraping against her. The way he touched her with his hands and tongue. The way he stroked her hair and her skin as if they were the finest silk in the world. "Stop worrying," he whispered. "Just for the record, I think you have impeccable taste; I bet the dresses aren't as bad as you think."
His lips brushed against her ear as he said the words. He was sending shivers down her spine. Part of her was so happy he'd turned up when he did. Another tiny part of her was worried. She was falling for this guy big style. How well did she really know Adam Brady?
He moved back and straightened up on the stool, picking up his knife and fork again. "Congratulations, I heard the message from your sister. You must be really looking forward to being an auntie."
Her fork poised en route to her mouth. All of a sudden she didn't really want these scrambled eggs any more.
She gave a little shrug. "Maybe." She looked over at his surprised expression. "My sister and I – we don't really see eye to eye."
He took a drink of his coffee. "Well, isn't this the time to make up? You don't want to miss out on seeing your new niece, do you?"
"It's not that simple."
"Why not?" It was a reasonable question and he'd have no idea how much it was making her stomach twist and turn. A few journalists crowded closer to them at the counter and Adam dropped his hand to the small of her back. It was a protective move. But the instant feel of the warmth of his hand flooded her with more memories from last night. More reasons to forget about the past and move on to a promising future.
She sighed. Maybe it was time to just get things out there. She was worried that she didn't know that much about Adam, but the truth was he didn't really know her either.
"No one really knows, but my sister ran off with my fiancé. They got married just after they left." She bit her bottom lip and met his gaze. "I don't have much luck with my sisters."
Adam put his fork down and stared at her. "Wow. I guess you weren't too pleased."
She picked up her coffee cup. "You could say that."
He looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "You called him your fiancé. But he isn't. He's your brother-in-law."
She blinked. "But he was my fiancé at the time."
Adam's gaze hadn't left hers. "Then shouldn't you have called him your ex?"
"You're nitpicking." She set her cup back down.
"I'm just saying that – even now – you still refer to him as yours."
There was silence for a few seconds. Lisa shook her head. "No. No, you're definitely wrong. You're twisting what I'm saying. That's not what I meant at all. I don't care about Joe Talbot at all."
He turned back to his pancakes and bacon. "Well, isn't it about time you made up with your sister, then? After all, she's the only one you've got left."
Her hand jerked and the coffee toppled over the counter top. He said the words casually. So matter of fact. He couldn't possibly realize how much that hurt.
Julia appeared in an instant mopping up the coffee in a few seconds.
Lisa took a deep breath. Her head was spinning. She hated Joe Talbot. And for a while she'd hated her sister. Adam was totally wrong suggesting she still thought of Joe Talbot as hers. She'd spent the last few years trying to push the guy as far from her mind as possible.
She didn't have time to talk because the reporter that had spoken to her earlier came and tapped Adam on the shoulder. "I've been thinking. Don't I know you?"
Adam frowned. "Why on earth would you know me?"
The guy was chewing gum noisily. "Are you an extra in Sultry Suburbs? A bit part actor? Are you here for the wedding?"
Another reporter next to him lifted his head. "Nah, didn't you hear? This guy is one of the local doctors."
For a second something seemed to flicker across the reporter's face. As if he were still trying to place Adam. But another guy appeared at his elbow. "Someone just spotted Nancy Parsons in the hairdressing salon. Let's get a move on before anyone else hears."
They disappeared in a flash. Lisa didn't actually think their stocky bodies were capable of moving that quickly.
Adam took a final gulp of his coffee. "Listen," he said quickly. He was still looking in the direction of the disappearing reporters. "I'm going to go back and check up on the patient from earlier. Okay? I'll give you a call later."
He put some bills on the counter to cover the check then leaned over and brushed a kiss on her cheek.
She watched him push his way through the crowd as she picked up her phone and stared at it. Why did she have the strangest feeling it wouldn't ring?
Chapter Ten
‡
It was a gorgeous day – the sun was splitting the sky but Lisa felt anything but gorgeous.
She knocked on the door again impatiently. "I'm coming!" yelled the voice from inside.
Mags pulled open the door, her hair all over the place and the lines of her pillowcase still imprinted on her face.
"Lisa? What time is it? Is something wrong?"
Lisa pushed past with the coffee cups in her hand and a bag of pastries.
Mags padded into the main room of the house after her; it was clear she still wasn't quite awake. She slumped down on the sofa next to Lisa and took a deep sniff of the coffee Lisa handed her. "This better be good," she murmured.
"It's not good," muttered Lisa. "It's bad."
The words made Mags sit up more. "What's bad? I thought things were going great with you and Dr. Dreamy?"
Lisa sighed. "They were … until he heard a message from my sister."