Unfinished Business(40)

“I’ll get it this time,” Loretta announced. “If it’s another hopeful parent, I’ll shoo them away.”

But it was Brady who stood dripping on the back stoop this time. Without the shelter of an umbrella, he grinned at Vanessa while rain streamed from his dark hair. Instant pleasure turned to instant annoyance the moment he opened his mouth.

“Morning, Loretta.” He winked at Vanessa. “Hi, gorgeous.”

With something close to a snarl, Vanessa huddled over her steaming tea.

“Brady, what a nice surprise.” After accepting his kiss on the cheek, Loretta closed the door on the rain. “Have you had breakfast?” she asked as she went back to the stove to soak the bread.

“No, ma’am.” He took an appreciative sniff and hoped he was about to. “Is that French toast?”

“It will be in just a minute. You sit down and I’ll fix you a plate.”

He didn’t have to be asked twice. After dragging his hands through his dripping hair and scattering rain all over creation, he joined Vanessa at the table. He flashed her a smile, a cheerful, friendly look that neatly disguised the fact that he was studying her color. The lack of shadows under her eyes gratified him as much as the mutinous expression in them.

“Beautiful day,” he said.

Vanessa lifted her gaze to the rain-lashed windows. “Right.”

Undaunted by her grudging response, he shifted in his chair to chat with Loretta as she flipped the browning bread in the skillet.

Not a peep from him in two days, Vanessa thought, and now he pops up on the doorstep, big as life and twice as irritating. He hadn’t even asked her how she was feeling—not that she wanted to be fussed over, she reminded herself. But he was a doctor—and he was the one who’d come up with that ridiculous diagnosis.

“Ah, Loretta.” Brady all but drooled when she set a heaping plate of fragrant bread in front of him. “My father’s a lucky man.”

“I suppose cooking’s the first priority when a Tucker goes looking for a wife,” Vanessa said, feeling nasty.

Brady only smiled as he glopped on maple syrup. “It couldn’t hurt.”

Vanessa felt her temper rise. Not because she couldn’t cook. Certainly not. It was the narrow-minded, sexist idea that infuriated her. Before she could think of a suitably withering reply, Loretta set a plate in front of her.

“I can’t eat all of this.”

“I can,” Brady said as he started on his own meal. “I’ll finish up what you don’t.”

“If you two are set, I’d best go open the shop. Van, there’s plenty of that chicken soup left that Joanie brought over yesterday. It’ll heat up fine in the microwave for lunch. If this rain keeps up, I’ll probably be home early. Good luck with Scott.”

“Thanks.”

“Scott?” Brady asked, as Loretta went out.

Vanessa merely propped her elbows on the table. “Don’t ask.”#p#分页标题#e#

Brady waited until Loretta had left them alone before rising to help himself to more coffee. “I wanted to talk to you about the wedding.”

“The wedding?” She looked over. “Oh, the wedding. Yes, what about it?”

“Dad’s been applying a little Tucker pressure. He thinks he’s got Loretta convinced to take the plunge over the Memorial Day weekend.”

“Memorial Day? But that’s next week.”

“Why wait?” Brady said after a sip, echoing his father’s sentiments. “That way they can use the annual picnic as a kind of town wedding reception.”

“I see.” But it was so soon, Vanessa thought frantically. She hadn’t even adjusted to being with her mother again, to living in the same house with her, and now… But it wasn’t her decision, she reminded herself. “I suppose they’ll move into your father’s house.”

“I think that’s the plan.” He sat again. “They’ve been kicking around the idea of renting this one eventually. Does that bother you?”

She concentrated on cutting a neat slice of the bread. How could she know? She hadn’t had time to find out if it was home or not. “No, I suppose not. They can hardly live in two houses at once.”

Brady thought he understood. “I can’t see Loretta selling this place. It’s been in your family for years.”

“I often wondered why she kept it.”

“She grew up here, just as you did.” He picked up his coffee again. “Why don’t you ask her what she plans to do about it?”

“I might.” She moved her shoulders restlessly. “There’s no hurry.”