Unfinished Business - Nora Roberts Page 0,33

you like to go in the living room? We can put on some music.”

“No, actually, I’d like some air.”

“Good. There’s nothing I like better than walking in the twilight with a beautiful woman.” He gave her a cocky grin and held out a hand.

Chapter Six

The evening was soft and smelled of rain. There were lilacs blooming, their scent an elegant whisper on the air. She remembered they had been Joanie’s favorite. To the west, the sun was sinking below the mountains in a blaze of red. Cows stood slack-hipped in the fading light. They walked around the side of the house toward a field thick with hay.

“I hear you’ve taken on a student.”

“Mrs. Driscoll gets around.”

“Actually, I heard it from John Cory while I was giving him a tetanus shot. He heard it from Bill Crampton—that’s Annie’s father’s brother. He runs a repair shop out of his garage. All the men hang around over there to tell lies and complain about their wives.”

Despite her dragging discomfort, Vanessa had to laugh. “At least it’s reassuring to know the grapevine still works.”

“So how’d the lesson go?”

“She has … possibilities.”

“How does it feel to be on the other end?”

“Odd. I promised I’d teach her how to play rock.”

“You?”

Vanessa bristled. “Music,” she said primly, “is music.”

“Right.” He put a fingertip behind her earlobe so that he could watch the jewels she wore there catch the last light of the setting sun. And so that he could touch her. “I can see it now, Vanessa Sexton on keyboards with a heavy metal band.” He considered a minute. “Do you think you could wear one of those metal corsets, or whatever they’re called?”

“No, I couldn’t, no matter what they’re called. And if you’re only along to make fun of me, I can walk by myself.”

“Touchy.” He draped an arm around her shoulders. He was glad the scent of his shampoo was still in her hair. He wondered if any of the men he’d seen her linked with in magazines and newspapers had felt the same way.

“I like Jack,” she said.

“So do I.” They walked along a fence thick with honeysuckle.

“Joanie seems so happy here, on the farm, with her family. I often wondered about her.”

“Did you ever think about me? After you’d left, after you’d hit it so big, did you ever think about me?”

She looked out over the fields. “I suppose I did.”

“I kept thinking you would write.”

Too much, she thought. Too often. “Time passed, Brady. And at first I was too angry and hurt. At you and at my mother.” Because she wanted to lighten the mood, she smiled. “It took me years to forgive you for dumping me the night of the prom.”

“I didn’t.” He swore and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Look, it’s a stupid thing and long over, but I’m tired of taking the rap.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I didn’t dump you, damn it. I’d rented my first tux, bought my first corsage. Pink and yellow roses.” Now that he had brought it up, he felt like a total fool. “I guess I was probably as excited about that night as you were.”

“Then why did I sit in my room wearing my new dress for two and a half hours?”

He blew out a long breath. “I got arrested that night.”

“What?”

“It was a mistake,” he said carefully. “But by the time it was straightened out, it was too late to explain. The charges were pretty thin, to say the least, but I hadn’t exactly been a Boy Scout up until then.”

“But what were you arrested for?”

“Statutory rape.” At her astonished look, he shrugged. “I was over eighteen. You weren’t.”

It took almost a full minute before it could sink in, before she could find her voice. “But that’s ridiculous. We never…”

“Yeah.” To his undying regret. “We never.”

She pulled both hands through her hair as she tried to reason it out. “Brady, it’s almost too ludicrous to believe. Even if we had been intimate, it wouldn’t have had anything to do with rape. You were only two years older than I was, and we loved each other.”

“That was the problem.”

She put a hand on her stomach, kneading a deep ache. “I’m sorry, so sorry. How miserable you must have been. And your parents. Oh, God. What a horrible thing for anyone to go through. But who in the world would have had you arrested? Who would have—” She saw his face, and her answer. “Oh, no!” she moaned, turning away. “Oh, God!”

“He was