Lori Wilde - There Goes The Bride (23 page)

Chapter 12

W
hat are we going to do?” Lucia asked Trudie as they pushed their shopping cart through the handy little community grocery store located two blocks from Trudie’s doorstep. Just before they’d walked out the door, Delaney had called with the bad news she was resigning as Lucia’s house stager.

“I’m telling you, Luce, you’re worrying for nothing. Delaney is a Pisces. Nick is Scorpio. They’re one of the most compatible matches in the Zodiac. Trust me on this.”

“Not to offend you, Trudie, but I don’t have much faith in astrology.”

“That’s fine, but what about your faith in the whammy? You do believe in that, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what the problem is,” Lucia fretted. “Delaney said she didn’t have enough time to do the house justice with her impending wedding plans. She never said a word about Nick. But I know that’s the real issue. But what if she’s telling the truth and she’s simply overwhelmed?”

“She’s only overwhelmed because the whammy has her rattled and she doesn’t want to tell you she has the hots for your grandson, especially since she’s engaged to someone else. She doesn’t want you to think badly of her.”

“But how are she and Nicky ever going to get together if she’s not going to help me sell my house? And besides that, now who’s going to help me sell my house?” Lucia turned their cart down the cereal aisle. “I knew we should never have meddled.”

Trudie took a box of Lucky Charms off the shelf and tossed it in the cart. “It’s not meddling when it’s kismet.”

Lucia fished the box of sugary cereal out of the cart and handed it back to Trudie. “You’re as bad as Leo with the sweet tooth. Get the All-Bran.”

Grumbling under her breath, Trudie put the Lucky Charms back and replaced it with bran flakes. “Happy now?”

“No, not at all. I’m worried about Delaney and Nick. I’m worried about selling my house.”

Trudie waved a hand. “You worry too much.”

“You don’t worry at all.”

“And that’s what makes us such good friends. We balance each other out. Can I get some fruit roll-ups?”

Lucia sighed. “Go ahead.”

Trudie scampered to the fruit roll-ups and brought a box to the cart. “You want Delaney back as your house stager?”

“Of course I do. Didn’t I just say that? But how can we get her to come back?”

“We’re going to have to meddle. Oh, and you might have to tell a little white fib or two.”

Lucia desperately wanted to see her grandson happy. He deserved the same kind of happiness she’d known with Leo. She wasn’t so sure of Trudie’s interfering, but she didn’t know what else to do. If Delaney married the man she was engaged to, Lucia knew the young woman would live to regret it.

She’d been there herself. She understood the pressure to comply with her family’s wishes, especially if you were the kind of girl who took great care not to hurt people. If it hadn’t been for Leo boldly taking matters into his own hands, she would probably be living in a hovel in Tuscany, waiting for Frank Tigerelli to get out of prison.

Lucia couldn’t stand by and watch Delaney make a terrible mistake. Her gaze locked with Trudie’s. “So what do you have in mind?”

Nick was caulking the front windows of Nana’s house when he looked up to see Trudie’s corvette pull into the driveway with his grandmother riding shotgun. Nana climbed gingerly from the low-slung sports car and then marched toward him, looking like she used to look just before she stuck his nose in the corner for bad behavior.

Uh-oh. Something was up.

He laid the caulking gun down on the window ledge and cocked a disarming smile. “Hey, Nana.”

“Don’t you ‘Hey, Nana’ me, young man.” She glowered darkly and shook an index finger under his nose. “What did you do to that girl?”

“What girl?”

”Don’t play dumb,” Nana snapped.

Surprise widened Nick’s eyes. His grandmother rarely lost her temper, but when she did, she got really steamed.

“I know what you’re up to, young man.”

His shoulder muscles bunched defensive protest. “I’m not up to anything.”

“Flirting with Delaney to chase her off so I can’t sell the house. She called me up and quit today.”

He felt a mix of relief and regret. The regret startled him. He had nothing to feel sorry about. “Is that what she said? That I was flirting with her?”

“Delaney has too much class and respect for other people’s feelings to say that. She laid all the blame on herself. But I know the real truth, mister. Don’t forget who raised you.”

“I didn’t chase her off,” Nick mumbled and ducked his head. Nana had a way of making him feel seven years old all over again.

“You can’t fool me, Dominic Vincent Vinetti. You’ve done it before.”

“Done what before?”

“Ran off a perfectly nice young woman because you were getting too close, feeling too much, and couldn’t deal with it.” Her eyes sparked angrily and she reached over to snap the head off a dead bloom on the rosebush beside him.

Nick gulped.

“Yes,” she said. “I know about your tactics. Probably more than you know yourself. For instance, I know you’re at least fifty percent responsible for what happened between you and Amber. Maybe even more than fifty percent.”

Now that was a low blow. Nick narrowed his eyes. “Amber left me. On our honeymoon. To run off with another man.”

Nana sank her hands on her hips. “And why was that?”

Fear slid down his spine. Nick clenched his jaw, dropped his gaze, and picked up the caulking gun. “I’ve got to get this caulking done before it rains.”

“That,” Nana crowed. “Right there. That’s why Amber left you.”

“What? Amber left me because I like to caulk?” Was his grandmother losing it?

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Maybe I am dumb.”

“Humph. You run away from your feelings, that’s what you do.”

“I married Amber, didn’t I? How could I run away from my feelings if I married her?” he growled. “And look what happened.”

“You married a woman you
knew
would break your heart. You damn well did it on purpose. Subconsciously, of course, but still purposefully.”

His mouth dropped open and he stared at his grandmother, bewildered by her accusations. She
was
losing it. “Think whatever you want to think,” he said, not knowing how else to respond. He’d never seen his grandmother like this and didn’t know what to make of it.

“You’re terrified,” she accused. “Scared to death that if you really let yourself love a woman who truly deserves your love, she’ll end up dying on you the way Dominique died on your father.”

Nick studied the window casing, trying to ignore his grandmother, who was now systemically snapping the heads off all the dead rose stems and slinging them viciously to the ground. Hmm. Looked like he’d missed a spot with the caulk.

“Stubborn,” Nana muttered, and he heard the crisp snap of another dried bloom being broken off.

Nick dabbed a white bead of caulk into the spot he’d overlooked, cocked his head, studied his handiwork. Nice.

“Arrogant.” Snap, snap.

Let’s see. There were three more windows in the front. Would he have enough caulk? Or would he need to make another run to Lowe’s?

“I swear you’re just like your grandfather. He would rather putter around in the garage than express what he was feeling.”

“What are you taking about? He kidnapped you from your wedding. That sounds like he was expressing his feelings to me.”

Nana waved a hand. “Grand gestures came easily to him, it was the quiet moments—the moments that count to a woman—where he froze up. I loved your grandfather with every beat of my heart, Nick, but he was so stubborn. He never told me about his heart condition. Arrogantly, he wanted to shoulder the burden alone, spare me the worry.” She snorted and then tears sprang to her eyes. “I never knew he was dying. He robbed me of the special conversations we could have had. The extra moments we could have savored. The ones your father and mother got to share.”

Awkwardly, Nick wrapped his arms around his grandmother and she sank her head against his chest. He didn’t know how to deal with Nana’s tears. He patted her shoulder, his own emotions a tight clot in his throat.

Nana pulled back, dabbing at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have broken down on you like that.”

Rattled, Nick ran a hand through his hair. “Um . . . it’s okay.”

“I shouldn’t have gone off on you either. It’s just that I want you to understand how you’re sabotaging your chance for happiness.”

“Yeah?” The question came to his lips even though he hated to ask it. “How’s that?”

“All you’ve got to do is stop denying how you really feel.”

Nick sucked in a deep breath. The heat of her gaze warmed his cheek. “You wanna know how I really feel?”

“Yes.”

He opened his mouth, but he couldn’t say the words. Couldn’t tell her how betrayed he felt because she was selling the house out from under him. Couldn’t tell her why he’d felt so compelled to chase Delaney Cartwright away.

“Well?”

Anger sent his pulse throbbing through his veins. Fear tightened his lungs. Denial squeezed his stomach. “Never mind,” Nick mumbled, turned on his heels, and walked away.

Before he reached the corner of the house, he heard his grandmother muttering, “Men. Hardheaded as cement. Every last one of them.”

Lucia and Trudie caught Delaney as she was leaving the office that afternoon. The minute she saw the two elderly ladies, her heart sank. Via the telephone it had been difficult enough to quit the job, but to reject Lucia to her face would be next to impossible.

“Lucia, Trudie, it’s so good to see you,” Delaney greeted them in the parking lot of her office. The silver Acura sat three spots away from the front door, taunting her. If she’d just parked a few feet closer, she would have already been driving away when they pulled up. “Were you in the area and decided to drop by?”

“No, no.” Lucia beamed. “We made a special trip just to see you.”

“It’s over fifty miles,” Trudie said. “And my driving’s not what it used to be.”

“You can say that again,” Lucia chimed in. “We were lucky to make it here alive. She almost hit a seagull. Twice.”

“Pesky creatures,” Trudie muttered.

“I was just leaving for the day,” Delaney said, hoping that might deter them.

“We brought cannoli,” Lucia said and held up a paper bag smelling deliciously of baked goods. “I made them myself.”

“They’re an especially tasty batch,” Trudie said. “I had two on the drive over.”

“That’s why you almost hit the seagulls. Eating and driving don’t mix.”

“It’s your fault. You’re too good of a cook.”

Delaney bit back a sigh. “Would you ladies like to come into my office?”

“We would love that.” Lucia smiled. “Thank you.”

Delaney took out her keys, opened the office back up, and ushered the women inside. “Have a seat,” she said, inviting them to sit down on the love seat while she took the plush-cushioned chair positioned beside it.

“Nice office,” Trudie said. “Informal, cozy. I like it.”

“Thank you.” Delaney smiled and braced herself for what she knew was coming next. “How can I help you, Lucia?”

Lucia reached across to take Delaney’s hand in hers. She looked her in the eyes. “Come back, stage my house. I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

Delaney took a deep breath to bolster her courage. “Like I said when we spoke over the phone, Lucia, I should never have agreed to take on your project in the first place. Not with my wedding so close. I just have too much to do. I apologize for any inconvenience I might have caused you. I have the name of another house stager I can recommend.”

“This is about Nicky, isn’t it?” Lucia wasn’t pulling any punches. “You can tell me the truth. He likes you. I can tell, but I promise he won’t get out of line with you again. It hurt him so badly last year when Amber cheated on him on their honeymoon. He would never do anything to cause your fiancé to suffer like that.”

“Lucia . . .”

“If being alone with Nicky is the only thing that’s worrying you, we can take care of that.”

Delaney paused. She still wanted to renovate that house. Still hoped to get on
American Home Design.
But she couldn’t do that if she had to work alone in the house with Nick. She simply couldn’t trust herself to keep her hands off him.

“This is very important to me,” Lucia said lowering her voice. “Because you see . . .” She let go of Delaney’s hand and splayed her palm across her heart.

“What she’s trying to say,” Trudie interjected, “is that her ticker isn’t in the best of shape. She wants to get the house sold and settled before . . . well, you know, she kicks the bucket.”

Delaney scooted to the edge of her chair. “You’re sick? Lucia, why didn’t you tell me?”

“She’s proud,” Trudie said.

“Please, Delaney,” Lucia whispered. “Finish the house. Trudie and I will be there every day to act as chaperones. We promise you that.”