He’d given up on love and relationships long ago, preferring to live in a cocoon of safety where he could do his research until dawn if needed, never having to take another person’s emotions into consideration, never having to risk being hurt again.
Connor opened the door of the rental truck and slid into the cab. Instead of starting the truck, he clenched the steering wheel in his hands. Closing his eyes, he pictured Ellie lying in his bed, coiled in the sheet, staring up at him with satisfaction. He could still feel her in his arms.
Fire pounded through his blood. He wanted more of the same. He wanted to make love to her every night. To have her touch him, hold him.
But that wasn’t part of their plan.
His heart heavy, he started the truck. The engine zoomed to life. Putting it in gear, he drove away from the park, from Ellie, from a life he would never have.
He’d been working on his prototype for the past nine years. The only way to be a success was to be the first to market. He could achieve that goal if he just stayed the original course he’d established between himself and Ellie. To make certain that happened, he’d arranged for a lawyer to meet him at the lab.
Connor had told Ellie in Las Vegas he’d take care of the divorce. It was time to start preparations for that eventual parting. The paperwork would take time to draw up; then they’d have to wait ninety days for the courts to finalize the divorce. If they started the process now, they’d be free of each other that much sooner and could return to their separate lives.
Ellie started awake and glanced at the clock beside Connor’s bed. Twelve thirty in the morning, and he still hadn’t come home.
Home. She forced back a groan. Jordan was right. She’d been thinking of Grayson House as her and Connor’s home. Restless, she got out of bed and wandered through the big, empty house. She weaved in and out of the rooms. In the family room, she found Zanzibar perched on the rounded crown of an antique chair, watching something outside.
She heard an odd sound—a strange whoosh, followed by a snap. Investigating, she made her way to the back door, opened it, and stepped outside.
There was no light from the new moon, but the stars were so bright she could see a shadowy figure on the back patio. Instead of fear, relief washed over her as she recognized Connor. Even in the half-light, she knew the contours of his face, his body.
He took the basketball in his hands and sent it flying toward the basket. It whooshed through the net. He twirled to catch it and froze at the sight of her. “What are you doing out here? Do you need something?”
I need you to come to bed and kiss me.
She swallowed. “I didn’t know you were home.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said, his tone guarded, distant as he turned back to his game, shooting the ball at the net once more.
He was pushing her away. “You’re going to stay up until you go fishing with my dad at four o’clock then?”
He retrieved the ball, then froze. “That’s today?”
“You committed to fishing, and I promised Viola I’d stop by and see her. It’s not surprising neither of us can sleep.”
Connor let out a slow breath. “That’s less than four hours from now.”
“You could cancel.”
“No, I promised. If it’s important to your father, it should be important to me.” Connor swung around to face her, his features shuttered. “We should both get what little sleep we can.”
“Or we could talk, because I know I won’t sleep until we do. Will you?”
He hesitated a moment, then nodded his head. “Let’s sit.” He headed toward two wrought iron chairs that overlooked a rose garden. The late fall blooms glowed white beneath the light of the stars, and a pale, sweet scent twined through the night air.
They sat. “What do you want to talk about?” he asked.
She studied his face. There was no sign of his mood. He was hiding his feelings from her, and she wondered if there was any way to draw him out. “Why are you out here instead of in bed with me?”
“I just needed to think.”
“About us?” she asked.
He brought his gaze to hers. “About our divorce.”
Ellie’s skin became hot and clammy at the same time. “What are you talking about? That’s weeks away.”
He stood and moved to a table near the corner of the house, where he picked up a white envelope that nearly glowed in the dark. He brought it to her and dropped it into her hands. “I made you a promise. We can file these divorce papers now if you’d like, since it takes ninety days for the divorce to go through. Look them over. Make sure you agree with everything. See if we need to change anything.”
All the strength left her body. She collapsed back into her chair, sagging against the cushion. He wanted a divorce just when she’d realized she could never walk away from him.
Her body felt as if it were shutting down. It was all she could do to stop from curling in on herself.
He watched her now, as if waiting for a response, except she couldn’t say anything. She’d entered that pain-filled place where speech was impossible. Fighting tears, she curled her fingers around the papers.
“Say something,” he implored.
Ellie sucked in a breath at the loneliness in his voice and the pain in his eyes. “We agreed to stay together for at least five weeks. Or maybe,” she added hopefully, “until Viola gets better.”
“Once Grayson House is done and the holiday event opens, your work will be done. It will be time to move on.”
A tear spilled onto her cheek as she continued to clutch the divorce papers. Silence stretched between them. How could she have been so wrong about what was happening? Finally giving in to a physical relationship with Connor had only made her crave more of the same. She wanted to argue with him, to try to convince him a divorce was a mistake. Then she remembered what he’d made clear from the start . . .
There will be no falling in love.
Too bad she hadn’t heeded that warning sooner.
He’d also made it clear his self-driving car was his first priority. Did she really have a right to challenge that now when she’d always come second to his work? “I need time to look over the papers,” she finally said.
He nodded stiffly a moment before he turned and walked away.
He wanted a divorce.
It didn’t matter that she wanted something more.
Reality returned. She’d put herself in this position by forgetting that this was all an act for Viola’s sake. Viola would get better.
And Ellie’s heart would never be the same.
Because as much as she tried to deny it, Jordan was right. She’d fallen in love with the man she’d married.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Death seemed imminent, and perhaps preferable to fishing with Ellie’s dad on Sunday morning.
Not only had Connor been awake for the past twenty-five hours, but he could no longer feel his legs or his feet as he stood in the middle of the Skagit River in a pair of hip boots that did nothing to keep the freezing water out.
It was pitch-black, windy, and cold, and Connor tried to focus on something other than the current that tugged relentlessly at his body. One slip on a rock and his end would be swift. He’d been miserable before, but this experience was climbing the charts of the most miserable days ever.
Instead of being in hell, James Hawthorne stood in the river beside him, laughing. “Don’t you love the rush of early-morning air slapping you in the face?”
“Yeah, it’s awesome,” Connor replied sarcastically.
James didn’t seem to notice as he released yet another booming laugh. That laugh faded a few moments later as Ellie’s father moved closer to him. “Son, other than fishing, I wanted to get you away from Ellie so we could talk man-to-man.”
A chill that was not river induced trickled down Connor’s spine. “About what?”
James cast his fly downstream. “Ellie’s always been a cautious one. So why did she thr
ow all that aside and marry you in Las Vegas?”
“You should be asking Ellie that.”
Ellie’s father turned away from his line. “Oh, I will, but I wanted to hear it from you, too. Why did she marry you in such a hurry after you broke her heart so thoroughly in high school?”
Happy he and Ellie had rehearsed their answers beforehand, he let them rattle off his tongue.
Accepting the answers, James tilted his head. “Then why not give her a honeymoon?”
That’s what James was worried about, them not having a honeymoon? “We didn’t have time for that. My grandmother had a heart attack, and we had to come back to Seattle to help her.”
James nodded. “With her house?”
“That and other things.” Connor kept his answers vague. He definitely needed to fill Ellie in on this conversation so they could sync their stories.
“You’re not toying with her again, are you?”
“Never,” Connor replied, even though he knew the word was a lie.
“Because if you do, I’ll cut you into tiny pieces and feed you to the dog.” James’s features grew hard.
“You don’t have a dog,” Connor replied, his stomach turning.
“The fish then.” James’s face softened.
What could he say that James might believe now, and later when he and Ellie went their separate ways? “I only have Ellie’s best interests at heart.”
James studied him silently for a moment. “I believe you do,” he said, his words no longer harsh. “That’s why we trust you to do what’s right for our little girl.”
That sudden trust scared Connor more than anything the man had said or done. Something in James’s tone told him he wasn’t done yet. “What do you mean?”
“Julie and I talked last night. I haven’t always been the father that Ellie deserved. I’d like to make up for that in some small way.”
“How will you do that?” Connor asked.
“Her mother and I are sending you two on a honeymoon anywhere you want to go.”
“A honeymoon trip for Ellie and me?”
“Talk it over with our girl. I’m sure she’s gathered some ideas over the past few years. Since she didn’t get her dream wedding, we thought we’d at least give her a dream honeymoon.”
“Ellie really wanted a showcase wedding?” Connor asked.
James shrugged. “Who really knows what she wanted for herself? We’ll never know now that the two of you ran off together instead. But she was very good at her job.”
“She’s still good at her job,” Connor acknowledged, his chest tight as he remembered Ellie painting the walls, prepping for the decorating to come over the next few weeks.
“Glad you appreciate her many skills,” James said as his line drew tight. He set the hook and started to draw yet another fish from the river.
While he and James talked, most of the other fishermen had moved downstream, claiming the noise was disturbing the fish. But James’s booming voice didn’t seem to bother the late-season river coho that bit at the man’s trade-secret “pinkies.”
James had already caught five fish in less than an hour. Instead of touting his success, he released each fish back into the wild, thanking the animal for a good time.
Connor had yet to catch a thing with the deadly hooks, except his own skin.
“Watch how you’re casting there, son,” James said with a rare frown. “Maybe you’ll understand if I explain it in car terms, since you definitely understand cars.”
Ellie’s father held his fishing rod before him, loosening the line. “Your back cast is like starting the car. You can’t drive if the car isn’t started. The front cast is the journey. Let the line go, and the fly will do the rest.”
Connor tried to whip the fishing line across the water, from back to front, but ended up catching the sharp hook on his head instead. “Not again,” Connor groaned as pain zinged across his skull.
James laughed as he came to Connor’s rescue. He plucked the hook from Connor’s skin, inspected the fly, then tossed it back into the water, clearing the blood. “Use your forearm and a straight line, son, or my daughter might not like the bloody mess we bring home.”
Concentrating, Connor tried to cast again. This time he slipped on a rock as he released the line. He caught himself, but couldn’t hold back the rush of frigid water into his boots.
He sucked in a breath as shivers racked his spine. Ellie could be a bloody mess herself after her day alone with Viola. Perhaps the two of them could compare their wounds when they both returned home tonight.
If he returned home, Connor amended, in anything but a body bag.
Right at noon, as requested, Ellie stepped off the hospital elevator and made her way to Viola’s room. Outside the door she stopped. She heard men’s voices coming from inside. She couldn’t make out the words. Was Connor’s father visiting? The two of them had met only briefly on the night they flew home from Las Vegas. Connor had made no effort in the past week to bring them together.
Putting on her best smile, she stepped into the room and gasped. She’d been expecting Clark Grayson, but four men stood like sentinels around Viola’s bed.
In the middle of them, Viola sat up, smiling. A hint of a blush tinted her cheeks pink. She looked happy and much improved from a week ago.
Ellie knocked at the door before stepping inside. “Hello, Viola,” she said cheerfully. “If you’d like me to come back—” Her words died as all four men turned her way. She didn’t know them, and yet she did. Without their Elvis garb they looked like average seventy-year-old males. Yet they weren’t.
“Allow me to introduce you to some old friends of mine,” Viola said, her cheeks returning to their normal color. “This is Lenny, George, Ernie, and Aaron.”
They looked different than they had in Las Vegas, definitely older without black wigs covering their balding heads. “You’re the Elvises Connor and I met in Las Vegas.” Cautiously, she approached and stopped beside Aaron. “How do you know Viola?”
Aaron turned to Viola with a question in his eyes.
Viola settled back against the elevated bed. “We used to have a singing act together in Las Vegas a long time ago.”
Ellie’s eyes went wide. “The dresses we found at Grayson House . . .”
Viola smiled. “You found those, did you? Those were the costumes I wore when we performed in all the best lounges back in the late 1950s.”
“We were quite an act,” Ernie added with a hesitant smile.
“We were quite an act, and so much more,” Viola said without taking her gaze from Ellie’s.
Viola turned to the man Ellie knew as Gold Elvis. “Ernie was the quiet backbone of our group. He might be shy, but he was also the optimist when things looked darkest.”
George nodded. “That’s the truth. Especially after you left us, Viola. Ernie was the glue that kept us together.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” she said, turning to White Elvis. “George was the lighthearted spirit of our little group.”
“As opposed to my foul moods,” Lenny countered.
Viola laughed at Red Elvis. “No, Lenny. You are the wise one. It was because of you that we got our start.” Turning to Ellie, she said, “Lenny had connections in the industry that led to our first gig. Once we performed our first night, the rest was history.”
“And what about me?” Blue Elvis asked.
Viola reached out and covered Aaron’s hand with her own. “You were the unofficial guardian of our group. Your absolute devotion to your friends still shows in everything you say and do.”
Ellie smiled at all four men. “It’s nice to meet you all out of costume.”
“Those days together were the best times of our lives,” Lenny said wistfully.
“When we heard our girl was ill, we had to come see her,” George explained. “It’s not like we followed you back to Seattle or anything so that we could—”
“George!” Aaron interrupted. “What he means is th
at when we learned Viola was ill, we hopped the next flight out.” He shrugged. “It was the same flight you and Connor took.”
Ellie arched a brow. “It was you at The Lucky Club earlier this week.”
Color flooded George’s cheeks as he pressed his lips together, as though forcibly holding back a response. Ernie and Lenny looked away.
“We’ve been seeing the sights. Nothing more,” Aaron said.
Ellie’s gaze passed over each of the men positioned like sentinels around Viola’s bed. They appeared quite fond of the older woman. At the realization that Viola and the Elvises had a connection, Ellie’s thoughts drifted back to Las Vegas. Had she and Connor truly met by chance? Or was Ellie being far too suspicious for her own good?
As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Aaron hurriedly turned back to Viola. “We should let you spend time with Ellie.”
Viola nodded. “My new granddaughter and I have much to discuss.”
“Bye, sugar,” Aaron said, fluttering his fingers at her.
“We’ll check in on you later,” Lenny said, reluctantly leaving Viola’s side as the others made their way to the door.
When they were gone, Viola straightened, as though tossing off the sentiment they’d brought out in her. “Have a seat, my dear. There are many things that need to be said.” Her regal tone was back.
“You’re looking well,” Ellie said, ignoring the tone as she took a chair and moved it closer to Viola. “Are you feeling better?”
“As good as I can be after two heart attacks. But that is neither here nor there. You and I have a few things to settle. Let’s start with the house.”
Ellie sat back. What could Viola demand of them now? “What did you want to discuss?”
“My people tell me things are progressing with the exterior of the house and the interior painting, but you haven’t done any actual design work yet. Should I be worried?” Viola gave her a penetrating stare.
Ellie drew an easier breath. She’d dealt with worried clients before. Viola was only one more. “Everything is on target. We needed to get the basics done first. It’s like frosting a cake. You need the base coating of frosting before you can add any decoration.”
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