She shouldn’t accept either one of these gifts. Pretending a joy she didn’t feel, Ellie unwrapped the box and withdrew purple silk lingerie with lace appliqués at the bodice and hem. “It’s exquisite.”
Olivia beamed. “Enjoy being married, Ellie. It takes work, but all good things do.”
Ellie tried to smile in return.
“Thank you, both of you, for the thoughtful gifts. No matter how silly someone’s gift might be”—she cast a flustered glance at Jordan—“I do appreciate that you both want me to be happy.” She knew what to do with the lingerie, but the handcuffs?
“I have a great idea.” Olivia interrupted her thoughts. “Come with Max and me to a costume party at the Experience Music Project on Friday. Just the four of us. Since Max and Connor are friends, it should be really fun.”
“We don’t have tickets,” Ellie protested.
Olivia waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Not a problem. I’ll get two more. You’re supposed to dress as your favorite movie couple. Please say you’ll come.”
“Am I invited, too?” Jordan interrupted.
Olivia leaned toward Jordan. “Sure.”
Jordan reached for her phone and opened her calendar. A moment later she sighed. “Damn, I have to work.”
Jordan worked long hours at the hospital. Ellie wasn’t always sure if it was because she had to or because she wanted to, as an excuse. “Can’t someone cover your shift?”
Jordan shook her head. “With it being the week of Halloween and a full moon, the emergency room will be busier than ever. This time of year we always have to staff up, not down.”
“Next time,” Olivia said with a reassuring smile.
“That sounds nice,” Jordan replied with a hint of longing in her voice.
Ernie kept his head buried in the newspaper for so long he thought his nose might be covered with black ink.
“Finally,” Lenny nearly growled, setting his own newspaper aside as the three women left The Lucky Club. “I thought they’d never leave.”
“Do you think Ellie recognized us?” Aaron asked.
Ernie folded his paper, grateful he no longer had to read the same page of the newspaper as he’d been doing for the past hour. “I don’t think so, but I was nervous when her one friend studied us so closely. It made me want to get back into costume again. I can be invisible when I’m Elvis.”
“In Vegas, yes,” George admitted with a laugh. “In Seattle, not likely.”
Aaron gave him a pinched look. “What are we doing sneaking around spying on the poor girl?”
George frowned at the man in the booth beside him. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you just swallowed a lemon.”
Aaron’s sour look increased. “This isn’t our style—”
“Boys,” Ernie interrupted, his amusement fading. “We’re making lemonade. Look what we discovered tonight by following Ellie here.” He held up one finger. “She didn’t talk to her friends about a divorce. If she was seriously considering that alternative, she would have told them.” A second finger joined the first. “And she’s going to a costume party on Friday. A costume party, boys.”
All three of his friends’ faces lit up, and George started to laugh. “It’s not like the four of us don’t have the perfect costumes to wear.”
They all started to laugh.
“That’s how we do our best work,” Lenny managed to say.
“We learned something else as well,” Ernie said, trying to bring the conversation back to a more serious tone.
“What’s that?” George said, trying to keep his amusement in check.
“That pretty friend of hers with the dark hair . . . she needs a date.”
George straightened, his laughter fading as he stared at Ernie. “Are you offering your services?”
“No,” Ernie snorted. “I’m far too old for her. But who says we can’t help her along that path? A pretty young woman like her ought to have lots of young men vying for her hand.” Ernie frowned. “Do the young men still compete for a woman’s attentions?”
Aaron looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Most of the couples who come to our chapel are well past the competition stage of their relationship. They are ready to commit to each other, however briefly.”
“I’d be happy to help Jordan find the man of her dreams,” George said with a grin.
“Just like we helped Ellie find hers,” Lenny agreed with conviction.
Ernie couldn’t help but smile. “Now that’s more like it. No better way for the four of us to make ourselves useful than to not only help Ellie and Connor find their way, but help that pretty little Jordan polish some of her rough edges.”
“Who says we have to change her?” Aaron asked.
“I like her fiery temper,” George agreed.
“Boys,” Ernie interrupted with a wave of his hands, “at least we are united in our purpose. Let’s wait and see what opportunities present themselves. Okay?”
His friends nodded.
Ernie stood and withdrew a twenty from his wallet, tossing it on the table to cover the cost of four cups of coffee. As the accountant of the group, it was always up to him to see that the bills were paid. The expense of coming to Seattle seemed as though it would pay off in more than one way—as entertainers, friends, and now matchmakers to the lovelorn.
He’d worried that seeing Viola might churn up old memories that may have been better left undisturbed for them all. Instead, he could tell by the renewed spring in all their steps that the old excitement from years ago had returned.
For four single old men, it didn’t get much better than that.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Staring out the parlor window, Ellie took several deep breaths, trying to calm down. Three days into the refurbishment of the house and they were facing a serious setback with the timeline of the exterior renovation. She’d lived in Seattle all her life, long enough to at least have considered that a typical October day was filled with liquid sunshine, as the locals often joked with each other.
Zanzibar sat in the windowsill, watching her with calculating gold eyes. Outside, rain drummed down from a steel-gray sky. Puddles formed on the street and in the grass, reminding her that this wasn’t a passing shower. It had been raining all night and looked as if it would continue all day, or for the next forty days. It was hard to tell.
Would Connor head in to work today, or would he stay at the house? She was never certain from one day to the next. At the sound of footsteps in the hallway, Ellie knew she’d have her answer soon. “Good morning,” she said a bit too brightly when Connor appeared in the doorway.
He wore jeans and a navy-blue T-shirt that could have passed for work clothes. On him, the fitted shirt looked sexy, revealing the corded muscles of his chest and arms beneath the thin fabric. He was supposed to be a geek who spent a lot of time in his lab, but he could have passed for a rugged athlete.
“Are you hanging out here today?” Ellie asked, surprised that she wouldn’t come in second to his work.
“Yep.” For a long moment he said nothing as his long and lingering gaze slid over her body, capturing her form beneath the unflattering sweatpants and long Mariners T-shirt she’d chosen with hard work in mind. Her hair was pulled back into a functional ponytail. She looked as dreadful as she knew how to look.
“Interesting outfit,” he finally said, raising his eyes to hers.
“We were supposed to be painting outside.” It was the only explanation she had, other than that she had to build some sort of barrier between herself and Connor. Every moment she spent in his presence, she could feel her resolve to stay unaffected by him melting. “Because of the rain, I thought we could take inventory of the furniture instead? We can figure out what needs to be moved into each room. Then we can prioritize the refurbishment based on what rooms will actually be open to the public for viewing.”
“That’s a great plan. I hadn’t actually considered the fact we wouldn’t be showing the entir
e house. It makes a lot more sense to determine what rooms will be open and which ones won’t.”
She smiled at the unexpected compliment. “In the end, staging the event will save us time and money. Wedding venues are an illusion created with a lot of plywood and duct tape, camouflaged by pretty flowers.”
Connor laughed, the sound filling the room with intimate warmth. “I’m impressed. I should never have doubted your abilities.”
For an hour they moved from room to room in the house, with Zanzibar following behind. In the master bedroom they discovered a closet full of Viola’s old clothes. There were items Connor said he remembered, along with several ball gowns he didn’t.
“I’ve never seen this many gowns in one place outside of a store,” Ellie laughed.
“Me neither,” Connor replied as they left the dresses where they were and moved on to the other three bedrooms on the second floor. When they were done, they headed to the family room downstairs.
On her clipboard, Ellie cataloged all the furnishings Viola had left behind. The three-story Victorian had six bedrooms, a library, music room, study, sitting room, kitchen, family room, dining room, four bathrooms, a ballroom, and a dumbwaiter that passed between the floors. While Grayson House was a small mansion by today’s standards, it had been extravagant in its time.
“Most of the furnishings are antiques,” Ellie said, clutching the clipboard in her hands as Connor moved alongside her in the family room. She dropped her gaze to her list. It was better to concentrate on the items there than on him.
At first she’d allowed herself to watch him, but that had been a mistake. There was a raw, masculine power that lived beneath his self-proclaimed geeky surface that anyone with eyes could see.
His green eyes had shifted from her. Now they returned, focused and intent. “It’s hard living in a house full of priceless things.”
“You lived here?” Her words were a little breathier than she would have liked.
He inclined his head. “After my mom left, Dad and I moved in with Grandmother. Dad kind of disappeared for a while. It was Viola who took care of me, but she had a lot of rules, especially when it came to the furniture.”
Ellie could only imagine. Viola looked so soft on the outside—the woman within was another matter. “Did you live here long?”
Connor shifted closer as he inspected a lamp on the side table next to her. “About six years. That’s how long it took for my dad to pull himself together. By the time he wanted to be a family again, I was eleven and rebellious.”
His nearness felt like a flame down the side of her body. She frowned. “You were rebellious?”
He shrugged. “In my own way.”
She fought to concentrate on what they were doing and not close her eyes and let her senses stretch. “What does that mean?”
“The best part of our new house was that it had a garage. I took it over and turned it into a laboratory. At first my dad argued that he wanted to park his car in there, but he finally gave in after I moved back in with Viola.”
“You manipulated him.” The thought gave her something else to concentrate on. She shifted away.
“I’m not proud of that fact, but yes. He let me set up in that private space where I conducted all kinds of experiments. It took me five years to figure out what I was good at—robotics. And I’ve never looked back.”
“Are you and your dad close now?”
He let his gaze travel over the room, then looked back at her. “Not as close as I am to my grandmother, but we get along. I don’t think we ever had a parent-child relationship. We’re just two guys who are making their way through life.”
“That sounds kind of lonely for both of you,” Ellie said, meaning the words.
“We’re fine.” His expression shuttered as he turned away to study a bookcase up close. “What about you and your parents?”
She let out a dry laugh. “They meddle. They mean well, but there are two of them and one of me. I always felt like I was under an ever-watchful eye while growing up. One slipup and they would both come down on me.”
When he glanced back, his control was back in place. “Does that explain the perfect grades you always tried so hard to achieve in high school?”
Ellie wondered what he was hiding. She’d obviously touched on a sensitive subject with her question about his father. Maybe in time he would tell her more. Letting things go for now, she answered his question. “I was terrified to disappoint my parents more than I already had.”
He was beside her again. “You’re not a disappointment, at least not to me.” He reached for her shoulders, running his palms down her arms.
Her breath hitched. “You don’t have to say things like that just to try and make me feel better.” With barely a touch, he created a sensual tension within her that grew tighter and tighter.
“I’m not trying to make you feel better. I’m finally being honest with you and with myself. I know I hurt you eleven years ago.”
“And I hurt you,” she finally admitted.
“That doesn’t mean we need to keep on hurting each other.” His hands slid around her waist, drawing her closer.
Her heart thundered as his gaze dropped to her mouth. Without thinking, she parted her lips, and he laid claim. With only the lightest brush of his mouth against hers, she felt as though she were sinking, drowning, drunk with passion, captive to an exchange that was too potent for her excuses.
Tossing her better judgment aside, she kissed him back, demanding more, inciting what had simmered between them since the morning after their wedding, freeing herself of restraint.
And then his cell phone chimed.
Ellie froze as sanity cut through her desire.
Connor groaned. “I don’t have to get that,” he whispered against her lips.
“Yes, you do. Your grandmother is in the hospital,” she replied, forcing herself to draw back.
Removing his hands from her waist, he waited another second before he fished his cell phone out of his pocket. “Hello?”
Ellie moved away, giving him privacy as she mentally reviewed a list of all the reasons why kissing him was a really bad idea. Kissing him would lead to other things, and when they parted, as per their agreement, she would be heartbroken again. Only this time it would be far worse, because she liked him far more than she should.
Instead of the boy from the past, an intelligent, sexy man dressed in blue jeans and a T-shirt stood in front of her, looking like the answer to a prayer. Uncertain what to do next, Ellie strolled about the room, jotting the furnishings down on her clipboard. Her gaze continued to stray to Connor.
After several long moments, he hung up the phone. “It was Viola. She wants us to come to the hospital.”
“Is anything wrong?” Ellie asked with her heart in her throat.
Concern shadowed his features. “She wouldn’t say anything except she wants to talk to both of us.”
“I need to change my clothes. I’ll make it quick.” Ellie set her clipboard down.
Connor nodded. The moment between them was broken though not forgotten. She could see proof of that in Connor’s eyes a moment before she raced up the stairs.
Half an hour later, Ellie parked her car in the hospital parking garage. Connor couldn’t help but worry as they made their way up to Viola’s room, only to find she’d been moved from ICU to a PCU unit on a different floor.
He was thrilled his grandmother had improved enough to be moved, though it would have been nice to learn that information from the woman herself when she’d called. But that was Viola. She was an enigma, if nothing else.
Before they entered Viola’s new room, Connor reached for Ellie’s hand. “To keep up the charade.”
Instantly her fingers curled around his. She offered him a gentle smile.
Connor returned that smile. Their marriage might be fake, but Ellie’s caring about people was truly genuine. He could see that now that he’d let go of the past.
Inside the s
mall, private room, Viola lay motionless in the center of her narrow bed. Her eyes were open, but her face was pale, almost gray. A heart monitor beeped in the corner, displaying a heartbeat that was steady and strong.
“Connor, Ellie,” Viola said in a weak voice. At the sight of them, tears squeezed past her lashes and down her cheeks.
“How are you, Grandmother?” Connor bent down and placed a kiss on the older woman’s forehead.
“I want you to start planning my funeral,” her crackly voice replied.
Connor frowned. “You’re getting better. It won’t be long now before you’re out of this bed and back to your weekly bingo nights with your friends.”
The comment stopped her tears and earned him a wobbly smile. “You think so?”
“I know so.” He had to sound positive. Viola still had a long way to go, but she’d always been a fighter. Connor stared down at the withered woman in the bed, so unlike his grandmother. Her dull, watery eyes blinked up at him. With his free hand, he reached for her fingers, wrapping them in his own. Hers were so slim, so fragile.
He swallowed past the lump in his throat. He wanted to make everything better, the way she always had for him—which was why he stood beside her bed with Ellie. Their marriage was going to give Viola the hope she needed to get well again.
Viola squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m so afraid.” Tears once again slid down her temples.
Beside him, Ellie’s lips thinned. She looked at Viola with suspicion but said nothing.
Connor frowned, not understanding her response to Viola’s tears. He turned back to his grandmother and brushed the tears from her velvety cheeks. “You don’t have to be afraid, Grandmother. You’re not alone. You never will be.”
“I wouldn’t be so afraid if I had the hope of a great-grandchild.” Her voice was a bit stronger.
Connor cringed at the look that now filled his grandmother’s eyes. He knew that look. He’d seen it before whenever Viola wanted something to go her way. Is that what Ellie had been trying to communicate? That Viola was manipulating them? “Why the rush?” he asked with a hint of his own suspicion.
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