by Meier, Susan
Ellie frowned, wondering what the heck he was doing here. As far as she knew, he wasn’t a relative. Otherwise, his parents would have attended the funeral. He could be a friend of the family, but there wasn’t a Berkey kid anywhere near his age. Still, she had to admit, in the uncomfortable situation of attending a luncheon with a bunch of people she didn’t know, watching him was a nice distraction.
In a dark suit, white shirt, and thin black tie, he was the epitome of class. Though he’d left his face unshaven, the shadow of whiskers made him look sexy, dangerous. The men at the table laughed at whatever he’d said. The women giggled like girls.
That warm feeling she’d had the morning she thought he was going to kiss her returned. It softened her belly. Made her breath do crazy things.
She instantly turned away. She could not be attracted to him. So what if he was gorgeous and looked fantastic in a suit and tie? And so what if his beard made her curious about what that stubble would feel like scraping across her stomach?
She grabbed her coffee and chugged it. That was just wrong. He’d stolen her virginity, beaten her out for valedictorian, and now he wanted her dad’s business. She was not attracted to him.
She glanced around restlessly. Morning had become afternoon, and she hadn’t even touched base with the Tidy Whitiez staff. But she couldn’t leave yet. She had to pay the Dinner Belles. Still, lunch was over. As soon as she paid, she could go home.
She drew in a breath, straightened her shoulders, and walked the length of the rectangular dining area to the kitchen. Two steps before she got to the door, a roar of laughter enveloped her. She stopped and squeezed her eyes shut, as memories of this group gossiping about her dead mom poured through her.
Ellie shook her head to dislodge the vivid images and terrible words, and reminded herself that her mom had been dead for years. These women were gossipy. Nothing would change that. But they’d provided a service for her. It was time to pay them.
She stepped into the kitchen and everyone stopped talking.
Great.
Sandy Wojak, the short, brunette—only because of a dye job from Bang, Bangs—seventy-something leader of the group, leaned against the counter in the back by one of the kitchen’s four sinks. When she saw Ellie, she pushed off and ambled over.
“It was a wonderful funeral for a great man. Somebody everybody in this town loved. Your dad is going to be proud of you.”
Her throat closed. She wasn’t even sure her dad would know she’d done this.
“How is he, by the way?”
The ladies at the dishwashing sink eased toward them, dish towels in hand, drying cups and plates, true concern etched into the lines of their faces.
Ellie licked her lips. “He’s fine.”
Sandy brightened. “Maybe we can go see him?”
She almost told them no, then wondered what right she had. She might have carried a grudge toward these old biddies for fifteen years, but her kindhearted dad had forgiven them. They were “his people.”
“I guess.” She paused. A weird feeling slithered through her. It was one thing to communicate with Finn. There’d always been anger, competition, and a dose of lust between them. Honesty came easily. Words bubbled to the surface dying for release.
But these women? The secret society who’d sacrificed her mom on the altar of cheap entertainment? What the hell did she say to them?
She cleared her throat, reached into her dress pocket, and pulled out the check. “Here’s the money for the food with the donation to the group added in.”
Sandy looked down at the check. “Thanks.” Catching Ellie’s gaze, she smiled. “It’s nice to have you home.”
She worked up a smile in response, proud of herself for dealing with this like a mature adult, but, as she turned to leave, a piece of Donovan’s Funeral Home letterhead caught her eye.
Prepaid Funeral Estimate.
Karen O’Riley sauntered over and slid it off the counter with a smile of apology to Ellie. Charlene Simmons slid a similar piece of paper from the counter near her, folded it, and shoved it into her apron pocket.
Ellie’s eyes narrowed. Prepaid funeral estimate?
Prepaid funeral estimate?
Had Finn been at the biggest gathering of townspeople in weeks to sell prepaid funeral packages?
Oh, God. Of course that was why he’d been here. He did nothing without a reason. And he never stopped competing.
“That ass.”
Sandy said, “What?”
With twelve women watching her every move, Ellie drew back and outwardly calmed herself. So he was providing prepaid funerals, huh? Probably setting up installment plans. Her dad had talked about doing that, but he’d never quite been able to discuss dying with people who weren’t even sick. But Finn had had no trouble. And neither would she. In fact, it seemed like the common sense way to keep a business like a funeral home afloat. And a much better way to make money than waiting for people to die.
She smiled. He’d just given her the help she needed to keep her dad in Harmony Hills Hideaway. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d horned in on her funeral to do his business.
Or the fact that she was standing in a group of women who’d love for her to make a scene.
What she said now could be all over town in two minutes.
She smiled graciously. “You ladies did a fantastic job on the lunch.”
A short gasp of appreciation rippled through the gathered Dinner Belles.
Try to make her look like an idiot? Huh. She’d show him. “The food was delicious. Thank you very much.”
Sandy said, “You’re welcome.” She caught her hand. “And we will visit your dad. We love him, you know?”
She didn’t know. She knew her dad loved them. But people who loved him wouldn’t have gossiped about the love of his life in his darkest moment.
Still, she nodded, turned, and walked out of the kitchen, out of the hall, and over to Finn’s Range Rover. When he came out a few minutes later, she was leaning on the front fender, waiting for him.
“You insufferable lout.”
“Lout? Now there’s a word you don’t hear every day.”
“You should hear it every day. Because you are a lout.”
“I’m not even really sure I know what lout means.”
“It’s a jerk. Somebody who has no class.”
He smoothed his hand down his slim black tie. “I have lots of class.”
“You used my funeral to hawk your prepaid funeral services!”
To her horror, he burst out laughing. “I know! Stroke of genius, wasn’t it? There’s no better time to sell services than when you’ve got a crowd of people seeing just how much it costs to have a funeral.”
“You don’t even have the decency to deny it?”
He laughed again. “How can I deny it? I’m guessing you saw one of the estimate sheets.” He put his hands on the fender, on either side of her hips, trapping her. “Wanna go somewhere private and finish this fight?”
His face was flushed with the joy of his victory. His blue eyes had the shine that somehow walked the line between sexy and predatory. The same look he’d had the day he discovered the brochures, the day she was sure he’d wanted to kiss her.
She held back a gasp.
He wanted to kiss her!
And, oh, dear God, she suddenly wanted to kiss him, too. It was as if their fight had put fire in her blood and made her want to run her fingers through his short, spiky pale hair and kiss him senseless.
Which was insanity.
She slapped his shoulder and pushed him away. “I’m not leaving with you so you can… You can…” Damn it. When she gazed into those fathomless blue eyes, all those words that bubbled up deserted her.
His lips lifted into a knowing smile as he trapped her again. “I can what?”
The first time they’d had sex she’d been an inexperienced schoolgirl. Now, older, wiser, she knew exactly what she’d like him to do.
Fur
ious with herself, she shoved out of his hold. “You make me so angry I can’t think straight.”
“Why? Because I tried to remind people that I’m still around, too?”
“You didn’t remind people you’re still around. You worked the crowd. My crowd.”
“I think Old Man Berkey would argue that. Technically, it was his crowd. But that funeral should have been mine. I’d been talking with him about his final arrangements for months. Apparently, he’d forgotten to tell his children. But he should have come to me.”
She stepped back, refusing to feel guilty over stealing his client. “Well, his family brought him to me, and Sandy said I’d done well.”
“You did.”
“So leave me alone.”
She spun around and walked away, reaching deep and pulling out all the dignity she could muster.
“You look great in that dress, by the way. It makes your butt look very sexy.”
She pivoted to face him. “This is a church!”
He waved his hand in dismissal. “This is a church parking lot.” He smiled. “And you do look pretty.”
Her eyes narrowed, even as the syrupy warmth riding her blood melted and flooded her with unwanted heat.
Fighting to ignore that, she shook her head and strode away.
In the car, she forced herself to think about which Tidy Whitiez team member she’d call first, after she returned from a visit with her dad. But as she drove away, Finn just stood there watching her leave.
It was one thing to torment her, to fight for business, even to get a little smarmy in the way he kept himself in front of potential customers. It was another to make her feel…
She squeezed her eyes shut. That was exactly the problem. He made her feel.
And with the exception of her dad, she hadn’t let herself feel anything in three years. Not since her longtime boyfriend, Nick, a man who said he wasn’t quite ready to commit permanently, left her and then got married twelve short months later.
She was not going to snap her winning streak of not getting her heart broken with Finn Donovan. Especially since they were enemies. What kind of crazy woman had sex with her enemy?
A woman who wanted it?
Which was sleazy. Or wanton.
Or normal?
She was a twenty-seven-year-old woman who hadn’t slept with anybody since she’d stopped trying to replace Nick. Was it any wonder Finn tempted her? The man was gorgeous. The one time they were together had been fantastic. And she was needy.
Plus, she no longer believed in forever love. Happily ever after didn’t exist. After all, look what had happened to her parents.
Signing in at the front desk of Harmony Hills Hideaway, she remembered the day her mom had died, the note on the kitchen table saying she was leaving her marriage, the visit from the chief of police when he’d told her dad his wife had been killed in an accident driving out of town—with another man.
The shock of a crumbled marriage combined with grief over his dead wife had just about destroyed her dad that night. But the next day, he’d behaved as if Ellie’s mom hadn’t left him. She’d simply been in the car with a fellow townsperson. He didn’t talk about why she’d been with Bill Jenkins. He’d simply mourned her like a true widower, and reminded Ellie she had been her mom’s precious little girl and she should focus on that, not the gossip roaring through town.
Even at twelve, Ellie didn’t quite buy into the story, but her dad did, and the older she got, the more she realized that was how he’d coped.
She stepped into the sitting room of her dad’s suite. When he didn’t recognize her, she reverted to responding the way the doctors and nurses had told her. Don’t argue with him. Don’t press facts. Don’t be upset if he behaves like a totally different person. It’s all part of his disease.
She sat on the sofa beside the chair, and waited an hour, as he watched TV, not even glancing in her direction. Still, she sat there, hoping something would jog his memory, but knowing nothing was going to.
Emptiness eased into hopelessness. But she refused to give in. She kissed his cheek, said good-bye, walked out of the facility, and slid into her car. The doctor had told her he was going downhill fast, that he’d probably been hiding symptoms for years, that he could even be entering the final stages, but she’d held out hope that with care he’d improve.
Today, she had to face the fact that maybe he wouldn’t.
When the phone rang, and Dan’s number appeared in caller ID, she bounced on it, grateful for the distraction. Had the success of Old Man Berkey’s funeral gotten her more business?
“Dan! What’s up?”
“Margaret Wojak died.”
“Sandy Wojak’s sister-in-law?”
“Yeah. And Finn got the funeral.”
“Oh.” She squeezed her eyes shut and started her car. “Okay. We should just wish him well, and hope the next one comes to us.”
“Your dad used to say that.”
“I know.” She took two breaths. Funny how now that he wasn’t always available to talk to her, she could remember so many things he’d said. So many wonderful things. “We’ll be fine.”
Before she could pull her gearshift out of park, her phone rang again. This time the Great Expectations number flashed on caller ID.
She turned off her car’s engine and answered the phone. “Ellie McDermott.”
“Hey, sweetie,” Nicole replied. “How’s it going?”
“Well, I had my first funeral today and McDermott’s did great.”
“Even the crazy blond chick?”
“She was perfect.” Thank God.
“Everybody on staff needs to talk to you, but I asked to go first because I have some…sort of bad news.”
Ellie closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. What else was new? Her life seemed to be peppered with nothing but bad news.
“The way the payments from the Tidy Whitiez account are structured, your bonus won’t come through until the account is complete.”
She popped her eyes open. “What?”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t even get you an advance.”
“Damn it! I need that money.”
“I know you do.”
She combed her fingers through her curls. “It’s okay. My savings is equal to about three months’ worth of Harmony Hills Hideaway payments. And I got an income-generating idea from my competitor this morning.”
“The good-looking guy?”
“Yeah.” She didn’t even try to deny it. Finn was good-looking and sexy and smart. And, yeah, his being smart turned her on almost as much as that scruffy beard and the way he’d pinned her to his car’s fender as though he was ready to take her right then and there. “He’s selling prepaid funeral packages.”
Nicole said, “I have one of those.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, I’m fifty. Not married. No kids. I didn’t want to end up in some dump cemetery with no headstone.”
Ellie laughed. “No kidding.”
“No kidding.”
“Well, I’ve got to figure out how to sell them. Especially if this bonus isn’t coming through until next year.”
“I completely agree, but we have to cut this short. Your staff is standing outside my door, staring at me like lost puppies because they need to talk to you. But if you want help coming up with a campaign for those funeral packages, we could probably give you a few hours this week. Set you up with brochures or ads to put in the paper or something.”
“That would be great, thanks.”
“Okay. Call me tonight. I’ll have time to talk then.”
Nicole put Marvin Brisbin on the phone, and Ellie walked him through a problem before he passed her off to Janine Rummel.
Sitting in the parking lot, talking to her staff, advising them on things that were elementary to her, her mind drifted back to Finn. She should be laughing, eager to see his reaction to whatever campaign her staff would put together to steal all the prepaid funeral package business, but
all she could think about was the look in those shiny blue eyes when he’d trapped her against his car. The way he seemed to be pushing her, daring her to admit she found him attractive. The way something inside her bubbled up and longed to push back.
And wouldn’t he be surprised if she did? Now that she was older, she’d just love a long, lingering afternoon of sex with him. Or even a quick one. To show him she wasn’t a schoolgirl anymore.
She groaned. Damn. What she was she doing? Thinking about Finn?
No. Thinking about sex with Finn. And that was just wrong…
Or was it?
Really. She was a woman attracted to a very sexy man. That was normal. If they weren’t competitors, she probably would have acted on these feelings already. Of course, if they weren’t competitors their attraction might not be as much fun.
Fun.
She sighed with understanding. No wonder she reacted to him. She had no fun in her life. No distraction from all her pain and troubles. No way to work off some stress…
Damn. Now what was she doing? Justifying sex with Finn? Making an affair with him seem like the right thing to do, when it wasn’t?
She drew in a breath and put her attention on her staff. But her mind strayed back to gloating Finn, whose blue eyes seemed to look right through her clothes. Whose short, spiky hair was always sexily mussed. Whose muscles bulged when he moved his arms. Whose tattoos made her want to rip his clothes off.
Yeah. This was not good.
Chapter Eight
On the way back from the hospital, where he’d retrieved Margaret Wojak, Finn passed Ellie’s ugly red car sitting in the Harmony Hills Hideaway parking lot.
Damn, but she got his engines revved when she was all mad and snarky, and so damned sophisticated-looking in that sleek black dress. Aside from his brothers, she was the only person he was ever completely honest with. The only other person in town who knew about his dad. The only other person in town with troubles that seemed equal to his. Which was probably why they were drawn to each other. Misery didn’t necessarily love company, but it did appreciate knowing somebody understood.
