Quietly, he backed away and went to sit on the front porch.
When Ellie at last came to find him, almost two hours had passed. “We’re going to the funeral home,” she said. “But I don’t know what to do about Emory.”
“It’s all taken care of. No worries. Would you like me to come with you?”
Ellie seemed smaller and quieter, as if a light had been snuffed out. “It’s not necessary.”
He stood up and cradled her to his chest. “I phrased that wrong. May I come with you? I really want to.”
She nodded, sniffing against chest. “I’d like that.”
They took separate cars to the funeral home. Conor had convinced Kirby to pack a bag and come up to Conor’s house afterward. There was no reason for Kirby to stay alone down at Mr. Porter’s house and grieve.
None of them felt much like eating dinner, but there was a little café in town where they could get soup and a sandwich afterward.
Conor had known the funeral home director most of his life. The man was professional and kind. Luckily, there were no other services that evening, so the place was quiet. Too quiet, maybe. It was hard to escape the aura of death and sadness.
Mr. Porter’s body was draped in a sheet. Kirby and Ellie would have to make decisions about clothes and caskets and everything else in the morning. For now, it was time for a very private farewell.
Ellie touched the old man’s forehead. “Goodbye, Grandpa. I’ll miss you.”
Conor had his left arm around her waist. Kirby held her left hand. As a trio, they had seen and survived a lot of ups and downs. Conor wished he could spare both of them this pain. They had survived so much. But it wasn’t his call.
Ellie cried, silent tears that ran down her face and dripped onto her dress. “We should have come home sooner. We knew he wasn’t doing well.”
Her words made Kirby blanch.
Conor shook his head. “You didn’t really have that choice. And your grandfather knew that. Until Kirby was on the mend, your grandfather would have wanted the two of you to spend time together.”
“I suppose.” She touched the body again, smoothing a lock of white hair. “He was so much fun when we were kids. After my grandmother died, he came to Bolivia a few times. He liked to travel, but he used to laugh and say that his old body didn’t.”
Conor had to take his cues from Kirby. At last Ellie’s brother steered her away. “We have a lot to do tomorrow, Ell. Let’s grab a bite to eat and go home to bed.”
“Home?” She looked panicked.
“To Conor’s, I mean.”
“Oh...yes.”
During the quick meal they consumed, the two men talked of generalities. Ellie said nothing, though she did eat all of her tomato soup and chicken sandwich.
Afterward, Kirby went to the empty Porter house to pack up his things.
When Ellie and Conor got to Conor’s house, Maeve was already there with Emory. Conor’s mother extracted Emory from his car seat and handed him over to Ellie. Then she hugged both Ellie and Emory. “Your son is a delight. And he’s so smart.”
For the first time that day, Ellie smiled. “Well, I think so, but I’m his mom, so I’m supposed to say that.”
Maeve sobered. “I am so sorry to hear about your grandfather. I knew Mr. Porter. Most of Silver Glen did. He was well respected and much loved. Please accept my sympathies.”
Ellie hugged Emory, her eyes damp. “Thank you, Mrs. Kavanagh. If you all will excuse me, I need to get Emory ready for bed.”
When she walked into the house, Conor shrugged. Maeve was the first to speak. “Are you in love with that girl?”
“Mom!” Conor actually felt his ears turning red.
“Okay,” she said, sighing. “I’ll wait until you want to talk about her. I’m headed home.”
Conor nodded in relief. “Kirby will be here in a few minutes. He and Ellie have some decisions to make. I’ll keep you posted.”
Maeve had no sooner driven away than Kirby showed up. He got out of his car with only a slight limp, perhaps due to stress and fatigue. In one hand he carried a small suitcase. He couldn’t manage a smile as he walked up the front steps with Conor. “Where’s Ellie?” he asked.
Conor held the door for him. “Putting the baby to bed. You want a beer?”
Kirby shook his head. “I’d like a shower if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll show you the other guest room.” Once Conor had pointed out all the amenities to his friend, he stopped in the open door on his way out. “I’m sorry, Kirby. Really sorry.”
Kirby shook his head. “I never saw it coming down like this. I guess I need to make up my mind about those job offers.”
Conor’s stomach pitched at the implications of that statement. “Won’t you have to deal with the house?”
“No. Dad and Mom will do that when they come back in the spring. I’ll turn the utilities off, pay bills, you know...none of that will take more than a few days.”
“What are you telling me, Kirby?”
“Ellie and I will be leaving Silver Glen sooner rather than later.”
Sixteen
Conor lay awake for hours. He wanted Ellie in his bed, or he wanted to be in hers. Not for sex, though he thought about that with every other breath. He wanted to comfort her...to hold her...to promise her that she was going to get through this.
He and Kirby had stayed up until the wee hours...talking...occasionally laughing...cementing the bond that had grown since Kirby’s return. They both shared a concern for Ellie’s well-being. Though Ellie hadn’t exhibited any lasting signs from her hospital stay, Mr. Porter’s death was the emotional equivalent of “piling on.”
Ellie was strong. But even the strongest trees break when the storms are bad.
Conor had made arrangements with his housekeeper to have a hearty breakfast ready at nine o’clock. Kirby and Ellie and Emory beat Conor to the table and were waiting for him.
Kirby looked pretty good for a man who hadn’t slept much. “Thanks for the bed and the meal, Conor.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
Ellie looked at him beseechingly. “I don’t want to leave Emory again today. Would you mind coming with us to the funeral home and playing with him in the lobby?”
“Of course not.” He reached across the table and touched her hand, not caring that Kirby was watching. “Did you sleep?”
Ellie nodded. “Yes.” She looked at her brother and at Conor. “I’m okay, guys. You can stand down.” Her smile reassured him, but he noticed she was paler than usual. And in her eyes he saw traces of that same vulnerability that worried him.
Fortunately, the decisions at the funeral home didn’t take long. Ellie’s eyes were red rimmed when they came out of the consultation room, but she seemed calm. “We’re done,” she said, taking Emory from him.
“What now?”
“The funeral will be tomorrow evening. The notice has already gone to the newspaper. We planned a very simple service.”
Kirby took Ellie’s arm. “Will it bother you if we all go over to Grandpa’s house? We both could pack up our things. Conor says we’re welcome to stay with him and, frankly, I want to, because the house without Grandpa is way too sad and empty.”
“I agree.”
While Kirby took care of a few last details with the funeral home concerning payment, Ellie and Emory sat in a nearby conversation area furnished with comfortable chairs. Emory was beginning to fuss, no doubt because he was hungry.
Conor leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and forced Ellie to look him straight in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Ellie. Really sorry.”
Her smile this time was more of a grimace. “We were having such a beautiful day...”
He caressed her cheek with the back of his han
d. “We were. I hope you won’t let what happened ruin your memories of yesterday. I won’t forget it. Ever.”
“Why?” Her eyes were huge.
“Because it was fun and crazy and amazing.”
“It was, wasn’t it?”
He leaned forward, almost kissing her, when they both remembered where they were.
He jerked backward.
Ellie turned red. “Bad timing,” she muttered.
“Sorry.” He was chagrined that his need for her could make him stupid. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“The same thing I was, I suppose. That we’re damned good together in bed.”
He clapped his hands over Emory’s ears. “Ellie. Watch your mouth.”
“Kirby’s his uncle. I’m sure he’s heard worse.”
Kirby walked up and sat down beside them. “I heard my name being taken in vain. Not fair when I can’t defend myself.”
Ellie jumped to her feet. “Don’t get comfortable. I don’t know about you, but funeral homes give me the creeps. Let’s get out of here.”
* * *
By nine that evening, Kirby and Ellie were firmly ensconced in Conor’s home. He found himself smiling for no particular reason except that he liked having them all beneath his roof.
Kirby took himself off to bed early. When Ellie disappeared with the baby to put him to bed, Conor grabbed a shower and changed into a pair of cotton sleep pants. Under the circumstances, he wasn’t going to wander nude around his house.
He had a feeling that his troubled thoughts were going to keep him awake yet again. Knowing that Kirby and Ellie no longer had a reason to stay in Silver Glen was both disturbing and galvanizing. He needed to do something. Say something.
But he kept coming back to his original stumbling block. Once before, Ellie had asked him to choose her over his skiing and he hadn’t been able to do it. Would she expect him now to give up everything he loved to be with her?
Could he push for some kind of relationship with her knowing that Kevin’s memory would always linger between them like an unwelcome third wheel? It was natural for a wife to grieve her husband. But for how long? Forever? Would Conor regret pushing the issue if all he could have was her body and her friendship?
Staring into a cup of decaf coffee, he made a decision. He and Ellie were friends. Good friends. Better than they had been in the last decade. Though it would be incredibly hard, he was going to let her go without a fight.
He wanted a woman whose heart was hers to give. He needed the kind of relationship his four older brothers had found. Ellie was one in a million. One day, when she managed to forget the tragedies of the past, she would be ready to move on.
But that time had not yet come.
With a splitting headache and a crushing pain in his chest, he placed the empty cup in the sink and turned out all the lights.
Padding barefoot down the hall to his bedroom, he stopped in shock just inside the door. Ellie was waiting for him. She perched on the side of his bed wearing a chaste blue knit gown that was not designed to be remotely sexy.
Even the conventional garment flattered her. Her hair fell around her shoulders, making her look young and vulnerable.
“Ellie.” That was smooth. But he was off his game. How was he supposed to act around the woman he wanted with every cell in his body?
Her hands twisted in her lap. “I missed you last night,” she said, her gaze dark and, for once, impossible to read. “Will you sleep with me?”
Hell, yes. “Of course.” He sat down beside her and took one of her hands in his. “Do you need anything? Warm milk? Hot cocoa? A snack?”
She managed a smile. “All I need is you.”
He slid a hand behind her neck and pulled her in for a slow kiss. He tried to give her gentleness and patience. What he received in return was a kick to the gut. Raw passion. Unbridled desire.
Hand in hand, they returned to her room. “I’ll hold you while you sleep.”
She faced him, the broad expanse of the mattress between them. “That isn’t enough.”
“Ellie, I...” He ran his hands through his hair. Surely he deserved this one last time with her before she went away. But was it right? “You’re in the midst of a crisis,” he said.
“Life and death and change, Conor. What else is there? I’d rather be with you tonight than anywhere else in the world.”
She stood there, bold and brave, breaking his heart with her almost visible aura of valor in the face of overwhelming odds.
“Then you have me,” he said. “Take off your gown.”
* * *
Ellie spared a moment to wonder if Conor thought she was being flippant about her grandfather’s passing. She wasn’t. Losing her only surviving grandparent was inevitable, but she hadn’t been ready. No one ever was. She’d thought they had months, not days, to hear stories and swap hugs and be a family.
Now there was one less piece of her. One more broken spot that had to be glued back together.
She undressed, not because Conor had demanded it, but because she wanted to feel his naked skin against hers. Grief hovered in the wings, crushing and undeniable. But tonight she would hold it at bay, sheltered in Conor’s embrace.
With the lights out, pale moonlight streamed through a crack in the drapes. She went to the window and pushed back the heavy fabric, needing to see evidence of eternity. “Do you mind?” she asked.
“No. We’re invisible in the dark and, besides, there’s no one around. Come to bed, Ellie.”
They met in the center of the mattress on their knees. He smoothed her hair, his breath warm on her cheek.
“You make me happy, Conor,” she whispered. There was so much more to say than that, but for tonight it was enough.
“I’m glad.”
She felt him pressed close to her, chest to breasts, thigh to thigh. His rigid sex thrust against her belly, eager and importunate. Reaching between them, she took him in her hand, noting the sharp hiss of his breath.
“I love how you feel,” she murmured, still dazzled by the rightness of being with him this way.
He groaned and laughed. “It’s pretty good from this side, too.” He cupped her breasts. “You have the most amazing body, Ellie. Not that I’m not crazy about your mind, but damn, woman.”
When he pinched her nipples, she moved into him, wanting to be closer and closer still. “Don’t make me wait tonight,” she pleaded.
“Not a problem.”
After that, words became unnecessary. They fell onto the bed with soft mutters and choked laughter, so attuned to each other that she knew when he paused to debate the logistics. “Do you need a map?”
He moved behind her instantly and dragged a couple of pillows beneath her as she moved onto her hands and knees. “You’re such a smart-ass, Ellie.”
The laughter in his voice relaxed her, made her soft with yearning. As he entered her from behind, she felt his fingers on the nape of her neck. The innocent caress was in counterpoint with the primeval way he possessed her. His body staked a claim.
Closing her eyes, she buried her face in the pillow. Yesterday she had been on the brink of taking a chance...of telling him that she loved him...of confessing her secrets and her pain. But she’d thought she had more time. It was a hard lesson to learn. The only certain moments were in the now.
In the past few weeks, Kirby had spent numerous hours narrowing down his choice of hospitals. He was ready to make a decision. Which meant that soon, he and Ellie and Emory would be moving.
Her heart was breaking.
Conor eased out of her body and suddenly flipped her onto her back. “I need to see your face. You left me, didn’t you?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was thinking about things.”
He moved
between her thighs and entered her a second time. “Don’t think. Just feel.”
Conor loved her gently and thoroughly, shuddering in her arms as he finished. Ellie’s climax was more of a gentle swell and a gasped breath. In the aftermath, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her temple. “I’ve got you, Ellie. Go to sleep.”
* * *
The funeral was both a pleasure and an endurance test. Many more people showed up than she and Kirby had expected. Her grandfather had lived in Silver Glen most of his life. Townspeople came by, even those who didn’t know Kirby and Ellie personally.
The Kavanagh clan turned out in full force, demonstrating their support. Since Emory wasn’t the only child needing to be entertained, two college students home for the summer had been commandeered to babysit in a small room near the chapel where the service was to be held.
Through it all, Conor stood at Ellie’s side. His comforting presence gave her strength. He introduced her to strangers and brought her water and tissues and generally made himself indispensable.
Kirby held court in an opposite corner. They had decided it made sense to divide and conquer. They had been receiving friends for over two hours, and she worried about her brother’s stamina.
When she mentioned as much to Conor in a low voice, he shook his head and muttered in her ear. “I know Kirby. He won’t sit down even if you ask him to. But don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
At last, it was time for the service. Ellie sat in the front row, Kirby and Conor flanking her. Though the minister was articulate and kind and had lovely things to say about Mr. Porter, Ellie blanked out.
Until that instant, she hadn’t taken stock of the fact that this was her first funeral since Kevin’s. It hit her suddenly, an overwhelming feeling as if she were drowning.
Sweat dampened her forehead and she wanted to gasp for breath. But there were rows and rows of people behind her. She could feel their eyes on her back. She gripped Conor’s hand until her fingernails dug into his palm.
At last, it was over. The family was escorted out a side door. Ellie saw the black hearse, the black limo. The one she had ridden in with Kevin’s parents on the way to the cemetery.
Second Chance with the Billionaire Page 15
