Her Summer with the Marine: A Donovan Brothers Novel (Entangled Bliss)

by Meier, Susan

  The crowd gasped again as the feeling of his dad’s knuckles rammed into his chest sent a surge of adrenaline through Finn, reminding him of basic training, of things he’d learned to get the advantage over an opponent, but the mutters of the crowd reminded him of where he was and that he didn’t want to embarrass his mom.

  His voice was low, deadly, when he said, “Get your hands off me.”

  An “Oh” of amazement rippled through the ring of people around them. Finn’s father’s eyes blazed, but a police car pulling up in front of McDermott’s caught Finn’s gaze, and he suddenly understood why his father had taken this fight public.

  With the police involved, the secret was out.

  “I think it’s time you realized, boy, that I’ll do what the hell I want, when I want, and you’re not going to stop me.”

  “I have no intention of stopping you. But Red does.”

  Dropping Finn’s shirt, Jeb stepped back. “This is harassment!”

  “This is me protecting my mother.”

  The gathered townspeople gasped again.

  Jeb cursed. “You’re interfering!”

  “I’m saving her.”

  Jeb’s reply was to haul his arm back and punch Finn in the face. The way he had when Finn was a child. The way he’d punched him and his brothers and his mother for as long as Finn could remember.

  Pain burst through his nose. His head snapped to the side, rattling his brain. The world switched to slow motion and became a hollow sound ringing in his ears. His muscles hardened as his hands formed fists. A primal scream begged to be released. But in those world-stopping seconds, he realized he could punch his dad right now and enjoy the feeling of sweet release. Or he could really win.

  The sights and sounds of the Dinner Belles’ fund-raiser returned. Amazed townspeople gaped in horror. Finn saw Ellie scramble off the Dunk the Clown chair, and just barely had time to duck another blow as Chief Garmin’s cruiser screeched to a stop behind the police car in front of McDermott’s. The chief jumped out and raced over.

  Ellie stepped between Finn and his dad. He shoved her aside. “Don’t. He looks soft and nice, but if he hits you you’ll know it.” The taste of blood on his tongue was a bitter reminder of that.

  Red stormed over to them. “I gave you a polite warning, Jeb.”

  “You can go to hell.”

  Red faced Finn. “You want to press charges?”

  “Like I’ve never wanted anything in my life.”

  He finally felt the blood rolling down from his nose to his lips. He swiped it away but it just kept coming.

  As the second officer cuffed his dad, who cursed and swore and told Finn he’d pay, Red turned to Ellie. “You have a first aid kit at home?”

  Her big brown eyes wide and frightened, she nodded.

  He caught Finn’s arm and handed him over to her. “Take him to your house, get him fixed up, then bring him to the police station.”

  Ellie nodded. Finn almost argued. The perfect fun day of laughing and just letting go had been totally destroyed by his father who, when he could, destroyed everything in their family.

  But what the hell? Wasn’t that life with his dad? And shouldn’t he have expected Jeb to retaliate? Why not have Ellie stop his bleeding? She couldn’t possibly think any less of him or his family now.

  Ellie walked him across the street. “He’s a bully.”

  “He is what he is.”

  They climbed the porch steps, and she unlocked the funeral home door with shaking fingers. Soaked to the skin and dripping water behind her, she led him up the stairs to the apartment, where she unlocked the residence door, and then pointed at her kitchen.

  “Have a seat. I’ll get the first aid kit.”

  The last time they were in this room, he’d kissed her. Senseless. He’d unzipped her dress and let it slither to the floor. Then they’d gone at it like two people so attracted they couldn’t stop themselves…

  Then he’d told her about his mom. Basically, he’d come to talk to the one person he’d confided in about his past, and a week or so later she’d told him she hadn’t believed him.

  What was he doing here?

  He shook his head and turned to go out the door again. “I’m not bleeding anymore.”

  But she stopped him. “Let me check.”

  Their gazes caught and held. She was sweet and pretty, soft and honest, and her big brown eyes were filled with concern.

  Genuine concern. The concern of someone who truly cared.

  The thought blew him away. How could she care about him? Better yet…why should she care about him? He didn’t know. He almost didn’t care. With the truth about his dad out in the open, he longed to forget questions, wrap his arms around her, and just hold her and be held by her.

  Instead, he sniffed a laugh. Where was this crap coming from? He didn’t need somebody to care about him. He took care of himself. And today he’d done it in spades.

  “Right. Fine. Whatever. If you want to check my nose, have at it.”

  “Look, I get that you’re embarrassed by your dad.”

  “Embarrassed?” He laughed again. “This has nothing to do with embarrassment. This is what I lived with my whole life. Today, I won.”

  She raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

  “The town knows now. He won’t prance around like he’s king of everything. He also won’t be able to go near my mom.”

  “Oh.” Her tight muscles finally loosened. “Right.”

  He relaxed a bit himself. She got it. He wasn’t happy because he could press charges against his dad—though that was a perk. He was happy because his dad couldn’t fake it anymore.

  The sweet warmth of victory surged through him as she went to the bathroom, got the first aid kit, and returned to the kitchen. She pointed at a chair by the glass table. “Sit.”

  He sat.

  She examined his nose. “Maybe you should go to the ER?”

  “For a bruise?”

  “He hit your face. What if you have a concussion?”

  “I took better hits than that in the eighth grade.” He slowly raised his gaze to hers. “From girls.”

  She laughed, sending an odd kind of happiness skipping up his spine, diminishing the pain in his nose, making him want to laugh with her. The feelings he had at the Dunk the Clown booth returned. They were good competitors because they understood each other. But right now, with victory over his dad in his grasp, he wanted to make her laugh. He wanted to be happy.

  She examined his face. “Yeah. I think you’re okay.”

  She wet a cloth and wiped the blood from his nose and mouth. The cloth smoothed across his skin, but so did the tips of her fingers. Soft like velvet, they awakened needs in him and memories of making love just down the hall, a few feet away, in her bedroom.

  Arousal billowed through him and he sucked in a breath. Now he was confusing things, mixing sex and kindness and wanting to laugh with her. And that was too much like a real relationship. Which he didn’t want. He didn’t believe in love and marriage or the ridiculous notion of happily ever after. If his parents’ marriage was anything to go by, happily ever after wasn’t just a myth; it was dangerous.

  He grabbed her hand and stopped her. “I can get this.”

  She let go of the cloth. “Sure.”

  Seated on her kitchen chair, he washed his nose and mouth, and did his chin and neck for good measure. She watched him, and when he was done, she smiled at him.

  “What?”

  “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  He saw the sweet relief in her eyes, and knew this was probably the first time she’d actually experienced the horror of abuse. And just like that, he saw her side of their night in the Buick. It probably had been odd for her to hear his story, to hear that the guy who’d been a pain in her ass had such trouble in his life. To hear that the guy who could get any girl, who could beat her academically, and beat just about anybody on an athletic field, had crap for a home life.

 
; It probably had sounded like a lie to her.

  And today she’d seen the truth.

  The humiliating truth.

  Which he absolutely refused to let hurt him ever again.

  “Honey, I’m always okay.” From his seat by the table, he tossed the washcloth across the room into her sink.

  She unexpectedly knelt in front of him. “I am sorry.”

  He looked into her big brown eyes, not sad like a puppy’s, but filled with something that wanted to take his breath away. Understanding. Total trust. Real trust.

  Yearnings swung through him. He ignored them, remembering his parents’ abysmal relationship, proving that real trust and the fairy-tale happily ever after most couples wanted didn’t exist. “I’ve gotta go to the police station.”

  She rose and stepped out of his way. “Want me to come with you?”

  He did. But he knew that was wrong. Not only were they rivals, but he didn’t want her so close. He was done being vulnerable. He wanted to be happy. If he were to bring her into his life, it would only be to sleep with her…but given the look in her eyes, that was wrong too.

  “No. I’ll be fine alone.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Dazed, Ellie walked back to the fund-raiser, Finn’s blood on her hands. She found a pack of disinfectant cloths on the table in the gazebo and cleaned them off before Sandy grabbed the bullhorn and announced that the winner of the Dunk the Clown competition had been Finn Donovan.

  “It was a close race,” she said, laughing, trying to bring the fun back to a situation that had been ruined by Finn’s dad, and failing.

  Ellie accepted the statue on Finn’s behalf, struggling with her sadness for Finn and the awful ache in her heart that just wanted to find a way to help him.

  Instead, following Sandy’s lead, she kept things light and said, “I’m sure he has a spot for this in his office. But next year, I intend to beat him.”

  Laughter ruffled through the gathered crowd, but so did speculation about Finn and his family. Questions about why Finn felt he needed to defend his mom, and why he hadn’t returned his father’s punch.

  As soon as the ceremony was over, Ellie edged her way toward the street. Clutching Finn’s dollar-store trophy, she realized there might not be a next year. She had her documents back from the lawyer. Technically, she could start promoting the prepaid packages now. Though she felt for Finn, she had her own father to support. And there was no time like the present.

  She crossed the street, ran the trophy over to the wicker chair on her front porch, and headed back to the park.

  She talked with a few of the Dinner Belles about making appointments to come to their homes and discuss the prepaid funeral packages. Karen O’Riley, a widow with only one daughter, Piper, was the first to set a time. Like Nicole, she didn’t want to leave the responsibility for her arrangements to someone else.

  Ellie had great, positive conversations with a few other people, who said they’d call her about an appointment, and she should have been buoyed with enthusiasm when the fund-raiser wound down, the crowd disbursed, and she could go home. But she wasn’t. From one hour of chatting, she’d gotten one appointment. Tomorrow she’d have to set into motion Nicole’s advertising campaign for these packages, buy some newspaper ads, and find a way to get herself in front of as many people as she could.

  Then the war over business would really begin. Smart as he was, Finn wouldn’t roll over and let her take all the clients. He’d strike back.

  Monday morning, Ellie showered and videoconferenced with the Tidy Whitiez team, talking for two hours. With that end of her work complete, she called the local paper and e-mailed copies of the ads she wanted to run for her prepaid funeral campaign. Then she ate a sandwich and headed out to Harmony Hills Hideaway.

  She tried not to think about the fact that she was going to war with a guy who was already at war. Her selling prepaid funeral accounts was strictly business. Finn would be doing the same to her.

  After a sad visit with her dad, who again hadn’t recognized her, she headed home, and didn’t even glance at Donovan’s Funeral Home as she drove by. Didn’t care if Finn’s car was there. Didn’t even think about the trophy she should be taking to his house. She walked into the apartment, tossed the keys on the table by the door, and riffled through that day’s mail.

  The usual bills filed through her fingers, then she came to a pretty white envelope, addressed to her. She shook her head. Unable to think of what could be inside.

  She opened it, and found an invitation to the wedding of Debbie Martin’s daughter Sissy.

  Her mind numb, she laughed sadly. Getting invited to the wedding of the daughter of one of the Dinner Belles was a blatant acknowledgement that she had made it.

  She was in.

  She was no longer the outsider to Finn’s favorite son. They were equals, and let the best person win.

  …

  The incessant ringing of his doorbell woke Finn. He yelled for his mother to answer it, but there was no reply. Looking at his bedside clock, he saw it was after two. The bright light pouring in through his bedroom window told him that was two o’clock in the afternoon. Which meant his mother was at work. She’d gotten up, dressed, and driven away without him even stirring. The painkillers he’d taken the night before must have been doozies.

  The bell rang again. “I’m coming!”

  He stumbled out of bed and slid into blue jeans. He had no idea who was at his door, but he wasn’t going to cower in his house. The news was out. His father was an abuser. If anybody wanted to confront him, or talk about it, he would be more than happy to oblige.

  Running down the stairs, he said, “I’m coming! I’m coming!”

  Finally in the foyer, he yanked open the door and there stood his brother Cade.

  With dark hair and brown eyes like their mother’s, Cade was Finn’s polar opposite. Especially given the black Stetson on Cade’s head. Both might have joined the marines—the muscles beneath the sleeves of his T-shirt were a lot like the muscles beneath Finn’s sleeves—but Cade wanted to be a cattleman now.

  The second Cade saw him, he laughed. “Well, look at your nose.”

  Finn sighed, but inside something cracked and shattered. He hadn’t seen his brother since he’d left home. He and Devon saw each other, but living in Montana, Cade wasn’t around for a beer or a quick dinner.

  Still, Finn had decided the day before he wasn’t ever again being sappy, vulnerable, emotional. That’s what nearly got him in trouble with Ellie. He knew better now.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Carrying a big black duffel bag, Cade ambled into the foyer and glanced around. “Mom called me. Devon, too.”

  He stiffened. “I don’t need you guys. I’m handling this.”

  Cade faced him. “That’s where I think you’re wrong. Or maybe Mom thinks you’re wrong. You’re the youngest, yet you’ve taken this whole mess on yourself. Devon and I agree. It’s not right. Plus, she told us you don’t have time for this. Your business is on shaky ground from competition.”

  “Donovan’s is fine. It’s a start-up. Every start-up takes time to get off the ground.”

  “Good. Then you won’t care if Devon and I take over the situation with Dad.”

  “The situation with Dad is done. He agreed to file for divorce in exchange for me not filing charges for this.” He pointed at his nose.

  Cade laughed again. Shaking his head, he said, “You have better restraint than I do. I’d’ve killed him.”

  “We were at the park, in the middle of a Dinner Belles’ fund-raiser. I didn’t want to do anything to make any more of a scene than I had to. Plus, I was winning in the competition.”

  Cade laughed. “You and your competitions. Mom said that McDermott girl is running the funeral home that’s taking half your business.”

  “Yeah, she’s back. Taking some business, but I can handle her.”

  “Good. You stick with that. Devon and I will deal with Dad.”


  “I don’t know what you guys think you’re going to do.”

  Cade shrugged before he tossed his duffel bag across the kitchen floor and ambled to the family room, where he plopped down on the sofa. “If the situation with Dad’s really handled, maybe we’ll just provide moral support in your competition.”

  That made him laugh.

  Cade cocked his head. “Or maybe Mom wants us here to give you a good laugh.” He frowned. “Are you really okay?”

  Finn rubbed his hands down his face, then winced when he hurt his own broken nose. “I’m fine.” He shook his head. “I’m better than fine.” If he went out into the town today, with his broken nose, he could get a hundred appointments to sell funeral packages if only because people would want to hear the gossip.

  Yeah. He was fine. Actually, he was going to win. He would forget Ellie’s troubles and beat her soundly.

  He pulled two beers out of the refrigerator, abundantly glad his mother had called his brothers. He wanted to be happy, and getting his brothers into his life—getting his family back together as a unit, not four disjointed pieces—was part of that.

  “You should have seen him, Cade. He was furious with me for giving Red Garmin the heads-up that I’d pulled Mom out of his house.”

  Grabbing the beer Finn passed to him, Cade laughed. “You told Red Garmin?”

  “I finally realized the only way to stop this would be to go public. We didn’t before because Mom didn’t want us to, and we listened to her because we were kids.”

  Cade clinked the neck of his brown beer bottle against Finn’s. “But we’re not kids anymore.”

  “No. When I realized that, I knew the best way to protect Mom was to tell Red she was in trouble. I asked Red to keep an eye on her as discreetly as possible. It was Dad who lost his cool in front of everyone and let out the secret.”

  “Wait till he files for divorce and Devon goes after half of everything he owns for Mom.”

  “This is definitely going to get interesting. But he’s out of town now. He told Red he was going to the Bahamas until the stink died down. When he comes back he’ll file for divorce.”

  Cade put his booted feet on the coffee table. “We can wait.”