For Better or Hearse

by Ann Yost

  “A person can’t have everything,” she said, gently. “Our mother left years ago, then our dad died. Gran gave up her retirement years to raise us. We have seen the importance of family first hand. It’s worth some sacrifice to us.”

  He held her close and kissed the top of her head, their friendship, such as it was, restored.

  The Chicago deep dish pizza and the moonlit walk on Lake Michigan with Daisy rounded out the evening. Daisy’s eyes closed in the Jeep and she figured they’d crawl into bed and pass out the minute they got back to the motel room.

  She was half right.

  They made long, slow, sweet love until they were moist, panting and limp. The morning came too soon. A part of Daisy wished they could stay where they were forever. She tried to imagine sixty years in a cinder block motel room and she giggled.

  She watched Nick step into his new jeans, zip and button them. She sighed.

  “We have to talk about this situation.”

  She paused in the act of brushing her hair. He wanted to talk about the relationship?

  “Langston sent my brother a bill for fifty grand. That ties him to my family. His death ties him to the Gray Lady. I think we can assume Langston was searching for the blue diamond.”

  Ah. That situation.

  “Buzz is implicated.”

  Daisy shook her head. “That makes him sound guilty. I’ve known your brother a long time.” Theo’s younger son was shorter and stockier than Nick. He’d played football at prep school and in college. His blue eyes radiated warmth and friendliness and everybody in town liked him. “Buzz wouldn’t be involved in a murder.”

  “You never really know people, Daisy. That’s something you’ll learn.”

  She shook her head. “Leaving aside Buzz’s character, it wouldn’t make sense for him to hire Langston then kill the guy before he found the loot. Besides, he’s in rehab.”

  Nick scrubbed a hand over his five o’clock shadow. He scowled.

  “Whoever killed Spuds must’ve sent the letters and left the dead butterflies,” Daisy went on. “There’s more going on here than pure greed. Someone is angry and, I suspect, hurt.” She sighed. “I think it’s time to go to the police.”

  “Not yet.”

  She studied his face. “Why not? Because of the negative publicity for Bowman’s Biscuits? You know, Nick, for a guy who doesn’t believe in family you’re very protective of yours.”

  He shot her an annoyed look but she merely raised her eyebrows.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Daisy was uncharacteristically quiet as they consumed the complimentary rolls, juice and coffee and Nick had time to reflect on the dream. He’d had it occasionally since he’d left seven years earlier but never after a night of sensational sex.

  Of course he’d never had that kind of sex with anyone else. The realization shocked him.

  The dream was a true story. Pops, tall, slim and with a full head of thick gray hair, walked out onto the dock. He wore a red flannel shirt, jeans and boots and he had his arms around his two much smaller companions whose clothing echoed his. Nick inhaled the scent of pines and cold morning air and felt the leap of excitement. He was with the two people in the world he loved and it was the happiest day of his life.

  Suddenly everything changed. Each boy caught a baby trout. Buzz claimed he would gut and grill his catch but Nick couldn’t bear to kill the shiny, silvery creatures. His stomach lurched as the tiny fish twisted and turned, desperate to regain their freedom.

  And then Pops told the boys to release their catch.

  Intense relief mixed with soul-deep shame inside the elder grandson as Pops overruled Buzz’s protest. Nick remembered the exact words.

  “They’re small fry. We’ll let these fellers get more meat on their bones before we eat ’em.” He’d looked at Nick. “And we will eat ’em. That’s what they’re here for.

  “That’s their job. Everybody’s got a job, son. Our job is to take care of Bowman’s Biscuits and the family.”

  Bowman’s Biscuits. The family.

  Nick had always known his importance in both until the morning Pops had caught and eaten him.

  “You okay?”

  He looked into the melting golden eyes of the woman next to him. Daisy banished the cold and the bleakness. He wanted to pull her over the console and hold onto her. He didn’t, of course. The one-night stand was over.

  “I’m fine.”

  ****

  Daisy wanted to make her way behind the mask. She wanted to tear away his pain and cynicism. She wanted to make him feel warm and connected but she could see his resistance. He kept his face forward. He wouldn’t let her in. She reminded herself she’d been expecting this. Last night had been last night. She had no future with Nick Bowman. But she wasn’t ready for the present to end. Not yet.

  She stared out at the countryside and watched the weather deteriorate. Overcast skies eased into a solid gray canopy and finally, by the time they hit the western border of their own state, the wind rippled through the crops. It bent cornstalks almost to the ground while above them lightning danced and played in the charcoal sky.

  Daisy watched Nick’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel. A muscle moved in his hard jaw and a faint layer of perspiration covered his upper lip. The dreary sadness of the first part of the trip had disappeared with the advent of the storm. The tension outside the Jeep was reflected inside. Tension and sexual heat.

  Nick wanted her. She experienced a surge of happiness and a sense of feminine power. He wanted her. The storm was turning him on. She corrected herself. The storm and her.

  Every nerve ending seemed to be waiting for something. She shivered with sensual awareness. He noticed.

  “Cold?”

  “No.” She deliberately waited a beat. “Hot.”

  He sent her a quick glance but rain dashed the side of the Jeep in a harsh gust and he fought to control the wheel.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  The apology was for his lapse in concentration on the road. She deliberately misinterpreted it.

  “I’m not.”

  Thunder clamored and lightning played with the tops of the trees. Rain splattered the car like a garden hose gone berserk. Nick kicked the wipers up to their maximum speed but the blades couldn’t keep pace with the rain. She wondered that he could see to drive. The sinews popped up on his powerful forearms as he battled the steering wheel.

  “We should pull over,” she said.

  He didn’t take his eyes off the road. “I’m a professional driver, remember?”

  The undercurrent in his voice wasn’t irritation. She noted the bulge in his lap. The storm couldn’t cure that. She placed a hand on his rock hard thigh and the car slipped. He cursed.

  She conducted a short debate with herself. She didn’t want to die on I-94. On the other hand, the temptation to push him was strong. She leaned over and covered his crotch. He jumped.

  “Mother of God! What the hell are you doing?”

  She didn’t think it was a serious question. She tightened her fingers and felt him swell. He cursed again. A sense of delicious power sliced through her.

  “You’re making my panties wet,” she murmured.

  “Holy Christ.”

  The rain on the roof reminded her of their night in the cabin. She’d wanted him then, too. The windshield wipers swished and slashed in a rhythmic dance. The inside of the vehicle was dark and as private as the cabin.

  Daisy concentrated on her task. She molded and shaped the male flesh under the denim. She loved to feel it ripple and pulse under her hand. She watched a drop of sweat makes its way over stark cheekbones. She reveled in his soft curses.

  She knew it was dangerous but she couldn’t bring herself to care. He belonged to her, in this moment. She called the shots. She wanted more. She reached for his belt.

  “We’ll wind up in a tree.” His voice was hoarse, raspy.

  “No, we won’t. You’re a professional driver, remember
?”

  She dipped her fingers into his waistband and he sucked in his breath to give her more access. This time when she worked his buckle he didn’t protest. She unzipped slowly, carefully, tantalizingly. When the cloth separated his heavy erection leapt into her hands and he made a strangling sound.

  “No more.”

  She ignored the plea. This sex play was completely different from what they’d done last night but it was equally erotic. Moisture seeped between her legs and dampened her slacks. She stroked the turgid flesh lightly then with her fingernails. He shuddered and jerked.

  Daisy was Magellan, DeSoto, Christopher Columbus. An insatiable explorer. She wanted more. She slipped her fingers underneath to fondle his testicles. They shifted in her palm, marbles in a protective bag. A needy whimper came from one of them. Her. She loved touching him. She wanted him inside her.

  “Pull over.”

  “Bad idea.”

  He meant because they’d tacitly agreed to leave their one-night stand in Chicago. Grief barreled into her but she thrust it aside as the rain exploded against the windshield.

  “I can’t see” he muttered.

  She glanced at his face. His eyes were squeezed shut.

  “Pull over,” she repeated. “This isn’t safe.”

  ****

  Holy shit.

  He didn’t get it.

  This wasn’t new territory. Okay, it hadn’t happened on wheels before, at least not with a storm raging outside, but hell, he’d been touched lots of times.

  Not like this.

  Daisy’s touch was magic.

  He was employing every ounce of his considerable control to keep from erupting in her hands. Or maybe that’s what she wanted. He knew she was loving this. She was loving him. It made the experience more intense. And much more dangerous.

  He heard her say pull over and he was shocked.

  Hell, he’d forgotten he was driving. He blinked at the windshield. Shit. Zero visibility even for a man with exceptionally sharp eyes. At least they were alone on the road. He spotted the overpass seconds before they reached it. He braked, expertly, and slid into the dry protection under the bridge. God. He wanted to haul her over his lap and bury himself so deep that neither one of them would ever forget. He reached for her, but she was faster. Her fingers surrounded his aching shaft she brought him into her warm, welcoming mouth.

  “Jesus!”

  She paused, uncertain, but he didn’t think he’d survive if she stopped. He wrapped his fingers in her curls and held her head in place. She licked and sucked with more enthusiasm than skill.

  “So damn good.”

  He pulled at her hair and suppressed a groan. He needed to come but he tried to hold off. He never wanted this to end.

  The urgency got the upper hand and he felt the familiar gathering as his body prepared for a mind-blowing climax. His back arched and he gritted his teeth against the pleasure that was almost pain.

  It didn’t happen. She’d disappeared. His heart rapped hard against his ribs.

  “Nick.”

  “Honey,” he croaked, “finish it.”

  “Nick.”

  “C’mon, baby. You can’t leave me like this.”

  He heard the rapping again.

  “Somebody’s at the door. A cop.”

  Nick opened one eye.

  Fuck. He was ready to launch and there was no way in hell he could zip up his jeans.

  She leaned across him, providing some cover but torturing him by inadvertently rubbing her body over his desperate erection. She unrolled the window. His arousal flexed and bowed under the pressure of her weight.

  He held his breath.

  “Good morning, sir,” the cop said. “May I see your license and registration?”

  He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even speak.

  “I’ll get it,” Daisy offered. He closed his eyes and tried to endure the feel of her hand in his pocket. Nick gritted his teeth and hung on.

  She gave the documents to the officer. The beam of his flashlight must have picked up the sweat on Nick’s face.

  “Please get out of the vehicle, sir.”

  There was no way. He shook his head. “Just shoot me.”

  Daisy gasped and intervened.

  “Officer, as you can see we were, uh, getting a little passionate. It’s completely my fault. We got married yesterday in Chicago.”

  “Chicago?”

  “At the Hyatt-Regency on Wabash. Do you know it?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. Well, it was a beautiful ceremony. My dress was this really elegant shade of eggshell with lots of lace and Nick looked unbelievable in his tux. Well, you can imagine, I mean with his coloring.”

  “Daisy, the officer doesn’t want the details.”

  “Oh, of course not. I beg your pardon. I wanted to explain we had too much champagne and a little fight and well, we didn’t get a real wedding night, if you catch my drift.”

  Nick rolled his eyes at her.

  “The point is we’re headed back to Detroit to see family and we won’t be alone again for quite awhile so I started fooling around. That’s why Nick can’t get out of the car.”

  The heat in his cheeks surprised him. He’d have figured there was no spare blood left in his body.

  The cop handed her the documents and peered at Nick. “Just give me the damn ticket,” Nick hissed.

  “You need to chill out, son. Marriage is best when you give the ladies what they want. At least that’s what Anna tells me.”

  “Who’s Anna?” Daisy asked.

  “My third wife. You’re newlyweds so I’ll let it go this time. In the future, save this stuff for the bedroom. Or at least the garage. And son, you really should get her a ring. No wonder she was pissed off.”

  ****

  It was the cop with his ridiculous comment about the ring that made her finally face the truth.

  She didn’t want a one-night stand with Nick. She wanted a whole life with him.

  She’d fallen in love with the anti-family man.

  The realization felt like a sharp knife sticking between her ribs but she couldn’t claim it was a surprise. Daisy suspected she’d loved him since the morning he’d walked in on her and Miss Ora. Maybe even since their less-than-memorable conversation seven years earlier.

  Despite the name of the wedding boutique Daisy considered herself a practical person, optimistic but not romantic. If she’d been asked she would have said she didn’t believe in love at first sight. But she loved Nick Bowman.

  She stared out at the passing cornfields. She didn’t bother to second guess herself. Would it have hurt less if they hadn’t made love? Probably. But she’d have regretted the missed chance for the rest of her life.

  She faced the truth with stoicism. In a perfect world, she’d have chosen Nick as her mate. But even in a perfect world he wouldn’t have chosen her.

  That was just the way the cookie crumbled.

  He looked at her with his devastating slow smile. “I’ve got to admit,” he said, “life with you is never dull.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  He pulled the Jeep into the clearing next to the Malibu.

  “If it’s all right with you, and the tape’s down at the Gray Lady, I’ll search the cellar tonight.”

  “Fine. I’ll come down and help you after I change clothes.”

  He noticed she wasn’t smiling.

  “Not necessary. I know you’re busy.”

  She shrugged. “I need to do some work at Happily Ever After anyway.”

  Well, dammit to hell. If she showed up he’d never be able to keep his hands off her or his mind on the blue diamond. On top of that, he’d hurt her feelings. He told himself it was just as well. He needed to get back to L.A. so the time in Mayville would fade from his mind like Brigadoon. He scooped the stuff out of the backseat and carried it into the cabin. Larry twined around his ankles.

  “Thanks for going with me,” Daisy said.

  He hadn’t gi
ven her any choice. Had he had a choice himself? The interlude in Chicago seemed inevitable.

  “Thank you, too.”

  It was a ridiculous exchange. Thanking didn’t come into the past twenty-four hours. Blame, maybe.

  “I’m going to take a shower.”

  She’d meant he was free to go but the words transported him to the previous afternoon and the most memorable shower of his life. He was instantly hard and furious about it. Furious about all of it. Daisy Budd was not built for a fling and he’d known that.

  “Daisy, we should talk.”

  She shook her head. “Not now.”

  Her choked response twisted something inside his chest.

  “We could get married.”

  The shocking words made his jaw drop. It took a full ten seconds before he figured out that they’d come from his own mouth. Did he mean it? He soon discovered it didn’t matter.

  “No,” she said, with a smile. “Thank you.” She turned toward the bedroom. “I’ll see you later.”

  Shock turned to fury on the drive back to Mayville. This was all Buzz’s fault. His mission from Theo should have been short and simple. Buzz had fucked it up. And where the hell was he? It was time his pseudo brother answered some questions. The anger kept his mind off his ridiculous suggestion and the way she’d rejected it.

  ****

  The warm spray sluiced off her shoulders and massaged her tired muscles. Everything would look better after the shower. She tried to focus on the tasks she needed to complete for the hand fast but she couldn’t block Nick’s ridiculous suggestion out of her mind.

  We could get married.

  Somehow that made everything so much worse. If she accepted the one-night stand for the casual sex it was, she could handle it. Once the concept of happily ever after reared its head, the night in Chicago felt tawdry and indulgent and she felt unworthy.

  Damn Nick anyway.

  She pinned back her wet curls and pulled on a pair of olive green capris and an oversized yellow tunic with fuchsia trim and wished, for the first time, she didn’t have to go to Happily Ever After. When the screen door banged, her heart leaped. He was back.