by Meier, Susan
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.
He yawned again. “I’m so tired. Why am I so tired?”
Because they’d given him something to relax. And any minute he’d drop off to sleep.
She squeezed his hand. “It’s nighttime.” Eight o’clock, but in an old folks’ home that could quite possibly be bedtime. “So I’ll get going and let you sleep.”
When she kissed his cheek good-night, he smiled at her, and she knew he’d gotten her kiss, not the kiss of some strange woman he didn’t recognize, not a kiss from a friendly candy striper, but a kiss from his daughter.
She walked to the nurse’s station. Regina said, “Sorry we had to call you.”
“Actually, I’m glad you did. I calmed him down and then he remembered me.” Her heart dipped. “Lord only knows how many times that’ll happen.”
