Rancher's Deadly Reunion. Beth CornelisonЧитать онлайн книгу.
for the parking garage. “Don’t forget my pretzel!”
“Oh, right,” Brady said, giving his head a shake and patting Connor on the back. “Sorry, buddy. Now let’s see. Where is Auntie Anne’s?”
A review of the airport map in the lobby showed the only Auntie Anne’s was past the security gates.
“Sorry, buddy. They won’t let us go to the part of the airport where the pretzel store is without a ticket,” Brady told his nephew and ruffled the boy’s hair.
“Where do we get a ticket?” Connor asked.
“We don’t. Not today.”
Connor wrinkled his nose in protest. “How come? You said I could have a pretzel!”
“I know. I’m sorry.” The look on Brady’s face said everything he didn’t. How much he hated letting his nephew down. How hard he was thinking about a way to make it up to Connor. Piper sent Brady a sympathetic smile and tapped Connor on the shoulder.
“You know what? I’ve been craving a big chocolate ice cream cone for hours. What do you say we stop for ice cream on the way home instead?”
Connor looked unconvinced at first, but when Piper batted her eyelashes and clasped her hands under her chin with a “Please?” the boy nodded. “Is that okay, Uncle Brady? Can we get Piper some ice cream?”
“That we can, Con.” He gave her a wink of thanks, and the moment of conspiratorial connection wrapped around her like a hug, warmth burrowing to her core. As they made their way out of the airport, Piper tried to rein in the soft emotions that tugged at her. She didn’t want to let her guard down around Brady or share private smiles that would chip away at her protective walls. Even after seven years, she was clearly still vulnerable to Brady’s lopsided grin and soft-spoken charm, and she was thankful for the buffer and distraction Connor would provide on the drive back to the ranch.
With Connor struggling valiantly to roll one of her heavy suitcases, they strolled down the long aisle of the parking deck until they reached Brady’s mud-speckled pickup truck. After Connor scrambled up onto the back seat of the extended cab F-150, he seized Piper’s hand and tugged. “Sit with me, Piper!”
“Well, I—”
“Pleeeeeease?”
The light green, puppy-dog eyes that beseeched her were impossible to turn down. She glanced at Brady, who only chuckled as he slid behind the steering wheel.
“Sure. Why not?” she said.
Closing the front door and glad for the excuse to move to the back seat, she climbed in next to Brady’s nephew, waved her hand blithely and in a nasal voice, said, “Home, James.”
Connor wrinkled his nose. “James? His name’s Brady!”
“Not when he’s our chauffeur,” she said, wagging a finger, her voice still pinched and snooty.
Connor caught on to her joke and gave a belly laugh. Mimicking her hoity-toity tone, he said, “Drive us home, James!”
Brady loosed an indelicate snort, then returned, “Righty-o, Sir Snoodlepants.”
Connor’s peals of laughter filled Piper with an odd warmth, and she couldn’t stop the giggles that bubbled up.
“Hey, Piper,” Connor asked as they backed out of the parking space, “how do you stop an elephant from charging?”
She cut a glance to Brady, whose cheek dimpled as he grinned. “I don’t know. How?”
“Take away her credit card!” Connor’s eyes lit as he delivered the punch line, and Piper found herself chuckling at the boy’s delight. She didn’t have much experience around children. Most of her friends were either unmarried or putting off starting a family while they launched their careers. Yet Brady had had fatherhood handed to him under difficult circumstances. The notion made her chest tighten. If she hadn’t gotten the scholarship that took her to Boston College, how would her life have been different? Could she and Brady have made their relationship work? Could they have been parents to—
She nipped off the thought before it fully formed. Don’t go there.
Focusing her attention on Brady’s nephew, she asked, “Do you know what an elephant’s favorite vegetable is?”
He shook his head.
“Squash!”
“Squash!” Connor repeated with another hardy laugh. “Did you hear that, Brady? Squash!”
“Afraid so, little man.”
Connor continued to entertain her with riddles as they drove out of the airport and merged onto the highway.
She mentally thanked Connor for providing an excuse not to make awkward conversation with Brady. The boy’s invitation to ride in the back seat with him also gave her the opportunity to study Brady’s profile covertly, to drink in the subtle changes in his face without him knowing.
“Do you know any more jokes?” Connor asked, his cheeks flushed and eyes bright with his amusement.
Piper scoured her memory for one of the lame riddles she and her brothers had told each other years ago. “What is black and white and red all over?”
“A zebra with a sun burn!” Connor shouted, clearly pleased with himself.
The boy’s mirth elicited an answering chuckle from her. The music of Connor’s giggles fed her soul. Laughing loosened the knots of tension that had kinked inside her the moment she spotted Brady across the airport lobby. More than that, goofing around with the little boy was a release she’d needed from the pressures and worries of her sixty-hour-a-week job and a few high-maintenance friends in Boston.
When was the last time she’d allowed herself to be silly? To laugh with the kind of carefree abandon that Connor enjoyed? Not that she didn’t share light moments with her friends and coworkers in Boston. She did. But with Connor there was no agenda, no drama. Just a little boy enjoying bad puns and simple irony.
Connor delivered the punch line of a joke she realized she’d missed as she was musing, but she groaned and grinned as if she’d been paying attention. As he started another riddle, Piper had the odd sensation of being watched. She’d experienced the prickling sensation at the back of her neck frequently over the past few months, so she knew the unsettling feeling well. Her gaze flew to the driver’s seat, and she found Brady staring at her via the rearview mirror. His gaze locked with hers, a strange, unreadable expression sculpting his face. The odd look held a note of intimacy, but also an edgy curiosity. Was it wariness? Fear? What did Brady have to fear from her? She didn’t have long to analyze his expression before his attention darted back to the road.
Connor, too, had fallen oddly quiet, eyeing them, then turning his gaze out the window and shifting restlessly in his booster seat. The boy’s brow beetled, and he said, “Uncle Brady, is this the road where Mama and Daddy died?”
Piper stilled, and a cold sorrow sliced through her.
Brady’s hand tightened around the steering wheel, and he again glanced in the rearview mirror, this time to study his nephew. “Yeah, it is.” He paused, then added, “But not this part. Their accident happened the other direction from the big city.”
“Oh,” was all Connor replied, still staring out the window.
Piper rubbed her thumb over the knuckles of her opposite hand, keeping a concerned gaze on Connor and regretting the lost conviviality. How was the boy handling the death of his parents? Knowing the challenge Brady had faced, taking custody of a newly orphaned boy while dealing with his own grief over Scott and Pam’s deaths filled her with a new respect for her longtime friend. Brady had dealt with a lot more obligations and hardships than other men his age, even when he and Piper been involved as teenagers. The loss of his mother and his father’s heavy drinking had meant he’d had to grow up fast and take on more family responsibility,