Her Summer with the Marine: A Donovan Brothers Novel (Entangled Bliss) (9 page)

Looking for her bra, trying not to think of Finn whipping it off with one quick flick of his talented wrist, Ellie said, “Not on your life.”

“Why not?”

“Well, if, say for argument’s sake, we discount the fact that I can’t cook, there’s always the I-hate-their-guts factor.”

“You can be a dishwasher. Plus, you’re twenty-seven. You’re smart enough to know you need them. The Dinner Belles are a big part of Harmony Hills. Everybody likes them. Everybody respects them. If they give a recommendation, it’s taken. Spend enough time with them, and it won’t matter if Finn meets with them. They’ll buy those funeral packages from you and tell their friends to do the same.”

“So to sell those packages I have to help people I hate?”

“Ellie, you don’t hate them. You’re mad at them for gossiping about your mom. But you can’t hold a grudge forever. Especially when you need them.”

Unfortunately, what Ashley said made sense. “I guess I do.”

“I know you do. So you need to get over this. And the best way to get over it is to work with them as people. Make friends. Get them to like you. And then your foot’s in the door and, before you know it, you’ll be selling funeral packages, making money hand over fist.”

It did sound like a plan.

“All right. But what about Finn? Technically, he pitched to these ladies first. That’s how I got the idea. I saw the estimate sheets he’d given out at Old Man Berkey’s funeral.”

“So?”

“So I’d feel like I’m stealing his business.”

“Are you kidding me? Until somebody signs on the dotted line, you have to think of every person as still up for grabs. Finn will. I think he’d sell his mother to win a bet or make a dollar.”

“Trust me. He wouldn’t.”

“Oh, you’re an expert now?”

“No. I just don’t like stealing his idea to run him out of business.”

“Hey, he’s the interloper who came into town and started the competing business.” When Ellie didn’t say anything, Ashley sighed. “What’s gotten into you?”

Ellie winced. She might not tell Ashley she and Finn had done it, on her bed, like two needy bunnies, but the whole thing about his dad confused her. And if anybody could sort it out, it was Ashley.

“When I got back to McDermott’s after visiting my dad, Finn was here…and, well… We talked a bit…” She winced again, telling herself that wasn’t a lie. They had talked a bit. “And remember the stuff he told me to get me to sleep with him the night before the calculus exam?”

“You mean the lies.”

“What if they aren’t lies?” She grimaced. Nine years ago, he’d told her to keep the information about his dad a secret. He hadn’t asked her to keep his confidence today, but really, if this were true, it wasn’t the kind of thing he would want getting out.

“Okay, listen. I’m telling you this in the strictest of confidence. Finn didn’t make me swear not to tell anyone today, but he did nine years ago, and this relates, so you have to promise not to repeat one word.”

“If I think it’s true, I’ll keep it to myself. If I don’t, I have no reason to tell anyone.”

“Okay.”

“So?”

“So, he talked his mom into leaving his dad.”

There was dead silence for ten seconds. When Ashley spoke, her voice dripped with skepticism. “Jeb Donovan’s wife left him?”

“Weeks ago. And apparently his dad was waiting for him after Old Man Berkey’s funeral. At his office. Finn’s mom works for him, and Finn thinks his dad might have gone there to talk her into coming home.”

“Well, it’s not as disgusting as trying to make you believe his dad beat him and kicked him out of the house, but it does show a certain flare for storytelling.”

Embarrassment poured through Ellie. “You don’t believe him?”

“Don’t you think we’d have heard about it if the wife of one of the town’s most important men left him?”

“Not if they are trying to keep it hush-hush.”

Ashley sighed. “Ellie, please. I know you have a soft heart. But you and Finn are competing again. And he’s proven he’ll pull out all the stops to win.”

“I don’t see how telling me his dad beats his mom helps him win.” Especially since they’d already had sex by the time he’d told her.

“It gets your sympathy.”

“Which gets him nothing.”

“You just worried about taking the Dinner Belles business when he’d been the first to talk to them. I don’t call that nothing. You’re softening to him.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’ve always said he’d do anything to win. Old Man Berkey’s funeral proved that you’re going to be real competition. And his easy answer to that was to buy you out. But you’d already turned down his offer. So today he probably decided to go another route. Playing on your sympathies worked the night before the calculus exam. Why wouldn’t he try that again?”

Ellie squeezed her eyes shut. What had happened to her brain? The man wanted to buy her business. She
had
proven she could be competition. And now that she knew about the prepaid funeral packages, he had to know she’d go after those too. Of course he’d pulled out all the stops.

“You didn’t protect yourself the last time he tried to snooker you, and he took your virginity and then never spoke another word to you. This time, don’t be such a sap. Join the Dinner Belles, get them on your side. Sell those funeral packages.”

Oh, you’d better believe I intend to sell funeral packages.
She intended to sell the hell out of those funeral packages.

“The Belles have a pierogi-making party tomorrow. I’ll come and get you in the morning.”

“You’ll come and get me?”

Ashley laughed. “I’m a Belle. I couldn’t make Old Man Berkey’s funeral because of dentist appointments for the kids, but I’m usually in on every activity.”

Confused, Ellie stared at her phone for a few seconds before she said, “Since when did you join the old ladies’ group?”

“Hey, it’s boring in a small town. I’m a stay-at-home mom who likes to be around other people. Besides, I like the Belles.”

“Oh my God.”

“It won’t be that bad. We’ll drive over together. You can tell them you’re joining because you were grateful for the good lunch they made for Mr. Berkey. They’ll be appreciative of the help, and you’ll have your foot in the door. You can beat this guy at his own game.”

The next morning at eight, Ellie stood on the funeral home’s front porch, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, with an old apron tucked under her arm and extra dish towels in her hand. Ashley pulled up and she got into her minivan filled with sippy cups, empty fast food bags, and assorted socks and shoes, not necessarily in pairs.

“I’m going to hate this.”

“I don’t care.”

She sighed. “I guess I don’t either, since I have some selling to do.”

“And I’ll help you.”

They entered a noisy church hall. When everyone glanced up and saw Ellie, though, the chatting stopped.

Ashley breezed into the kitchen, over to the center island, where she dropped her purse and slid into her apron. “You all know, Ellie, right? She’s taken over the funeral home for her dad, and let’s just say the town’s good fortune of not having had anybody die for a little while means she’s bored.”

Ellie thought of the Tidy Whitiez work waiting on her desk and couldn’t actually lie, so she said, “There’s a lot of downtime in the funeral home business.”

Sandy Wojak laughed. “Well, we have plenty for you to do, if you’re interested in volunteering.”

Ashley said, “I think we should make her a full-fledged Belle. That way she has to come when we call.”

Debbie Martin laughed. “Except she can’t help cook after-funeral lunches.”

“Nope. Hopefully I’ll be busy those mornings.”

And then an amazing thing happened. Everybody started talking at once. Not necessarily to Ellie and not even about her joining the group. They talked about kids and bake sales, football camp that was starting next month, Debbie Martin’s daughter Sissy’s upcoming wedding, somebody’s new car, and the price of having vinyl siding put on a house.

She tied her apron strings, was directed to start cutting margarine into flour—which really wasn’t too difficult once she got the hang of it—and suddenly, she was a Dinner Belle.

After an hour of mixing dough, rolling it out, cutting it into perfect circles with empty tuna cans, and filling it with balls made of potatoes and cheese, Ashley very casually said, “You know, Ellie’s going to start selling funeral packages.”

All gazes turned in her direction.

Karen O’Riley said, “Um…Finn was talking about that to us yesterday morning.”

“Forget Finn,” Ashley said. “Ellie’s a Belle now. We have loyalties to consider.”

“Finn gave us estimate sheets.”

“I’ll have those, too,” Ellie answered quickly, annoyed with herself for spending so much time the night before on the phone with Nicole, planning strategy and not making up the estimates as she should have. But she’d thought this would just be a getting-her-feet-wet meeting, not the one where she’d be selling.

Everybody said something that sounded like “That’s great,” or “Good,” and the conversation died.

But the minute they got back into the van, Ashley pounced. “You didn’t talk much about your prepaid packages.”

“I thought this was my getting-my-feet-wet meeting.”

“Are you sure?”

Ellie frowned. “Of course I’m sure.”

“You’re not pulling back because you’re feeling sorry for Finn, are you?”

Ellie gasped. “Of course not.”

Ashley took her eyes off the road long enough to cast a long look at Ellie. “I don’t know. There’s something weird about the way you say his name.”

“Weird?”

“Ever since our phone call yesterday, every time you talk about him your voice is kind of breathy.”

Ellie’s face heated to the roots of her hair. “It is not.”

Ashley gasped. “But you’re softening to him!”

“How do you get that just from a few words?”

“I’m a mother! I hear your tone. Mothers are trained to watch for tone.”

“Look, I’m not going easy on Finn.”

“Good, because your dad is counting on you.”

She licked her dry lips. She knew that. Without the bonus for Tidy Whitiez, she had three measly months’ worth of payments to Harmony Hills Hideaway. Unless she started making ten thousand dollars a month over expenses, her dad would be out on the street.

“I will not let my dad down.”

“Good.”

But that night, as she lay in the bed she’d made love in with Finn, she got angrier and angrier with herself. Finn really did pull out all the stops when it came to competing with her, and because she’d been overstressed about her dad the day of the Berkey funeral, she’d fallen into bed with him. This bed. Then he’d given her the sob story about his dad, and she had believed it. Even if it was only until Ashley reminded her she shouldn’t.

And that rankled. It was bad enough she couldn’t seem to resist him sexually. Did he have to make her an idiot and tell her that lie? Again?

Righteous indignation rose up in her.

She could handle dealing with having sex with him. The guy was gorgeous and good. Very good. And she was normal.

But the lies? Those had to stop.

And the only way they’d stop was if she’d catch him in one, and she knew exactly how.

Chapter Nine

Ellie’s plan seemed absolutely wonderful until the next evening when she was in her black sheath, standing at Finn’s front door with a bottle of wine in her hands. The last time they’d seen each other, they’d had sex. Now she was here with a bottle of wine. Wearing the dress she knew turned him on. Like an invitation.

She hadn’t thought this through.

The door opened and there he stood, hair wet, no shirt, jeans hanging low on his hips, feet bare, looking as if he’d just stepped out of the shower after a long day of work.

She swallowed as vivid images of him on her pillow assaulted her. Running her breasts against the stubble of his beard. Melting when he touched her.

It took real courage to meet his gaze. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He gave her a cautious look, but opened the door for her to enter. “What’s up?”

She stayed right where she was. Face-to-face with pure male temptation. Well-defined pecs, washboard abs…

She forced herself back to her plan, which was to get into his house, see no sign of LuAnn Donovan in the place, and confront him about his lie that his mother was living with him.

But going into his house, especially with him half-naked, suddenly didn’t seem like a good idea.

On a burst of inspiration, she decided to pretend she was giving him the wine as a present, and displayed the bottle for him to take. “This is for—” Her usually instantaneous brain deserted her. She didn’t have a reason to give him a gift. They didn’t have anything to celebrate. Unless they counted red-hot sex. And giving him wine as a thank-you for good lovin’ only seemed pathetic.

As his gaze moved away from the wine bottle and to her black sheath, his lips lifted into a smile. The cautious look flitted away.

“This is for us to drink?”

Warnings thundered in her brain. A red alert to shove the wine bottle at him and run.

He softly said, “Come in,” like the seducer she knew he was.

She straightened her shoulders. She was stronger than this. Smarter, too. They’d made love—she took half the blame for that, since she was as attracted to him as he was to her. But he was fighting dirty. Lying to soften her—weaken her. She had to get the chance to call him on it. And all she had to do was go inside, ask about his mother, lead him to admit she didn’t live with him, and then she could lambaste him. Get them back to the enemies they were supposed to be.

“Who’s at the door, Finn?”

Her gaze bounced to Finn’s. “Is that…your mom?”

“I told you she lives with me now.”

Relief made her laugh as two things hit her at once. First, she didn’t have to go inside. Second, he hadn’t lied. She wasn’t a schmuck who’d believed a con artist.

She’d never felt so glad of anything in her life. “Yes. Yes, you did.”

“But you can still come in. We can still drink the wine.”

“In front of your mother?”

His eyebrows lifted. “Did you come here to seduce me?”

The laugh that poured out this time sounded nervous and desperate. Like the laugh of a woman caught.

“No. I brought you the wine to… So we could…”

His brows rose even higher.

His mother appeared at the door. “Come in. Come in!” She took Ellie’s arm and pulled her inside. “It’s so nice to see you. I’m really sorry about your dad, but Finn tells me you’re more or less cooperating in the funeral home stuff.”

This time Ellie’s eyebrows rose. She caught Finn’s gaze as LuAnn led her through a kitchen with white cabinets, black granite countertops, and a small breakfast area by French doors, into a family room with pretty pale leather sofas flanking a fireplace.

Holding her gaze, Finn gave her a please-go-along-with-me look. “My mom sees my books, and she’s afraid I don’t make enough money to employ her.”

“Oh.” What else could she say? If he hadn’t lied about his parents, that meant his mom needed to be here to escape his dad. Just as she needed money to keep her dad in a good personal care facility, Finn needed money to take care of his mom.

The reality of his situation sank in. Finn’s dad
beat his mom
.

LuAnn pulled her down to one sofa. Finn sat across from them on the other.

She cleared her throat. “Well, if…when…” She almost said, …
the usual number of people begin dying…
but she caught herself. They weren’t waiting for people to die anymore. They’d turned this into a competition for the money of the living. A much more palatable business. “Once we get the idea of prepaid funerals out to the townspeople and they see the value of it, we’ll both be busy.” She hadn’t actually lied and told Finn’s mother there was enough business for both of them. But she couldn’t tell her the truth, either. Not when LuAnn looked so earnest, so in need of reassurance.

“That’s what Finn says.” She smiled lovingly at her son.

Finn rose. “Why don’t I get glasses for this wine?”

Ellie bounced to her feet. “No. No. I really did just bring that over as a peace offering.” She winced. “Sort of a thank-you for reminding me I could sell prepaid funerals.” Now her brain decided to work? “I should get going.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” She had never been surer of anything in her life, especially when all the facts of Finn’s situation began to ricochet around in her brain. If he wasn’t lying, then his father beat his mom, had nearly killed her, and he’d also beaten Finn and his brothers. The teenage boy she’d held to the fire every damned time there was a competition had been struggling at home.

She pulled in a breath. She’d been struggling at home too. She had no mom. She had to forget how she’d tormented him in school. Forgive herself. Move on or something. She couldn’t let her sympathy affect their competition.

Finn led her to the door, opened it, and let her walk through. When she turned to say one more polite good-bye, he was on her heels, closing the door behind him.

His hands immediately fell to her shoulders, skimmed down her arms and back up again.

Shivers exploded through her. Two days ago, he’d had those very talented hands all over her.

“It’s hard for me to admit that I’m sorry my mom was here, when she needs to be, but I am.” Before she could open her mouth to form a reply, he bent his head and kissed her.

Familiar longings flashed through her. And her lips instinctively softened to kiss him back. His mouth moved over hers expertly, sipping, nipping, gaining entrance. When his tongue rubbed over her tongue, a shiver rumbled up from her chest and became a moan. His hands cruised to her back and wove from shoulder to hip and back up again while his mouth feasted on hers.

Even though her brain told her it was wrong, she answered him. He nipped and sucked. She nipped right back, the molten lava that was arousal pushing her to do everything he asked and more.

When he pulled away, she fought to keep her knees from buckling.

“Thank you for the wine.” The rough whisper of his voice slid over her intimately as their gazes caught and held. His blue eyes were pools of liquid masculinity, deliciously drawing on her femininity, making her yearn for things that she shouldn’t want. He wasn’t just her competition. He was a flirt. And she was a good girl. Somehow in the middle of everything that had gone on between them, she’d forgotten that.

Because that’s what sexy guys did. They confused normal, upstanding-citizen good girls.

“Thank you for not bombarding my mom with a million questions. Just thank you.”

His words brought her back to reality. She’d come here to confront him because she thought he was a liar, and here he was thanking her. Shame swam through her shaky limbs and collided with the feelings she’d been hiding or denying since the first grade.

She was as big of a thorn in his side as he was in hers.

And she’d just lied to him. Or tricked him. Or something shady.

She cleared her throat. “You’re welcome.”

Then she turned and walked as fast as she could to her car. But the shame followed her. So did the guilt. And that yearning. Their lives might be in opposition, but their bodies really understood each other.

She jumped in her car and headed for Ashley’s. She had to get some of this out, sort through it and feel normal again. But her cell phone rang, and she pulled onto a side street, punching the button to answer it, automatically saying, “McDermott’s.”

“Is this Ellie?”

“Yes.” She sucked in a breath. She was so angry with herself and confused she was barking at callers again. “I’m sorry. This is Ellie McDermott. How can I help you?”

“This is Regina Rosen from Harmony Hills Hideaway.”

She sat up on her seat. “Yes?”

“I’m afraid we had to move your dad out of his suite and into our close monitoring ward.”

“Oh?”

“He had an…episode. We medicated him, but he isn’t going to sleep. He keeps calling your name over and over. We know it’s late, but it might help if you paid him a visit.”

Episode? What the hell was an episode? “I’ll be right there.”

With only a slight screech of tires, Ellie backed out of the side street and onto the main road again. On the drive to Harmony Hills Hideaway, she forgot all about Finn.

Stepping into the quiet ward, she looked around. No one manned the nurse’s station, and there was no sign-in sheet on the counter, as there was in the lobby for the suites.

She paused, pulling herself together, as real fear rippled through her. In a place where everybody was old enough to die tomorrow, it was hard not to be afraid.

With a quick breath, she eased her way down the hall, hoping a nurse would see her. She passed a room that appeared to be empty, a room with two old guys watching TV, and a room with Agnes Spinelli sitting in front of her bed in a wheelchair.

“I know who you are.”

She stopped. Given that Agnes was in the close-monitoring ward, she suspected she was fairly ill. It would be selfish to simply walk by.

“Of course you know me, Agnes. We lived on the same street until I left for college.”

“You run the funeral home now.”

“That’s right. For my dad.”

“So who died?”

“Excuse me.”

Agnes wheeled closer. “You people only come when someone dies. Was it one of my friends?”

“No, I’m here to see my dad.”

Her mouth fell open. “Your dad died?”

“No. No. My dad is fine.” At least, she hoped he was fine.

The fear returned, making her understand the old lady’s panic, as Agnes wheeled closer. “Then who died?”

By now Agnes was in the hall. Ellie slid her hands onto the grips of her chair and tried to turn her in the direction of her bedroom door.

But Agnes, who was much stronger than she appeared, grabbed the wheels and wouldn’t let them move. “You’re not taking me anywhere!”

“No, Agnes. I’m not taking you. I’m just helping you back to your room.”

Agnes screamed and brought three nurses scrambling out into the hall. “Don’t let her take me! Don’t let her take me! I’m not dead!”

Ellie bounced away from the wheelchair. “I was just trying to help her.”

Wild-eyed, Agnes pointed at her. “She runs McDermott’s Funeral Home! She tried to take me!”

The nurses all turned away from Agnes. The one with the nametag that said “Regina” sighed with understanding. “Oh, you’re Mark’s daughter.”

“Yes.”

As one nurse wheeled Agnes back into her room, Regina led Ellie down the hall. “Sorry about Agnes. We should have warned you that the patients here get a little nervous when they see the funeral director come in. Even for a visit with a relative.” She winced. “Some are superstitious. Some are just plain afraid they’ve lost a friend. But no one likes it when the funeral director shows up. The next time, we’ll warn everybody on the floor that you’re coming to visit your dad.”

She glanced back down the hall at Agnes’s room. “I’d appreciate it. So how is he?”

“He’s good. Now. His caregiver reported that he’s never lucid when she visits to tidy up or help him eat. So he can’t be alone and we moved him here. But he didn’t like it and he went nuts.”

“My dad is the calmest man in the world. He never goes nuts.”

Regina stopped and laid a hand on Ellie’s forearm. “Alzheimer’s patients frequently go through personality changes. Especially the deeper they get into the disease.”

Ellie remembered the doctor telling her that. “Right. I remember now.”

“But it’s good that he was asking for you. A visit from you should probably help him settle in a bit.”

As she said that, they entered a room with two beds. One empty, one holding her dad.

“Hey, Dad. It’s me, Ellie.”

“Ellie?”

“Your daughter.”

He laughed. “Nice try. My little girl is twelve.”

Remembering that the doctors had also told her that sometimes he’d remember the past better than the present, she casually took a seat on the chair by his bed.

“I was twelve about fifteen years ago. Now you have me running McDermott’s.”

He laughed. “You? You’re running McDermott’s?”

“With your staff…Dan, Jason, and B.B.”

“Oh, that B.B. She’s the best. I’m so glad she decided to leave Bang, Bangs and study mortuary sciences.”

“Yeah, it’s a lucky break for all of us.” She straightened the covers by his knees. “So is that how you got Jason? A recommendation from B.B.?”

“Yes. Happiest recommendation of my life. The boy is like an artist with hair.”

The inane conversation went on for ten minutes, until her dad yawned. When his mouth closed, he suddenly remembered her.

“Ellie? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d visit.”

He laughed. “In the neighborhood? You live in Pittsburgh.”

“Maybe I missed you?”

He caught her hand. “I always miss you.”

Sadness caught her in its black grip, and the shame she’d felt kissing Finn billowed in and morphed with it. She’d seen her dad little more than on holidays for the past nine years, and he’d always had to come to Pittsburgh and fit himself into her schedule. Yet he’d never complained.