Free Her Summer with the Marine: A Donovan Brothers Novel (Entangled Bliss) by Susan Meier Page A

it.”
    Ellie couldn’t argue that. Though everything Barbara Beth did was over the top, her hugging and crying with the family had worked. Ellie had been more comfortable taking care of the financial end of things and then stepping into the background.
    With any other people in the world, she could have been as good as Barbara Beth, but how could she soften to a town full of people who thought her mom was little more than a common whore?
    The final ceremony at the graveside went smoothly. Bob Berkey’s family said good-bye to their 102-year-old father, grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great-grandfather, and uncle. His wife was gone. His brothers and sisters were gone. Even his cousins were gone. He was the last of a generation of his family. And though everyone would miss him, they were all glad to see him reunited with his loved ones in the Great Beyond.
    So the luncheon in the church hall had the air of a family reunion. Babies were passed around. Hugs and back slaps abounded. Finn and Barbara Beth stood by the minister as he said the blessing. Then people who had been mourners chatted and laughed over baked chicken and rigatoni, and lingered over donated cakes and coffee, as Finn went from table to table, socializing.
    Ellie frowned, wondering what the heck he was doing here. As far as she knew, he wasn’t a relative. Otherwise, his parents would have attended the funeral. He could be a friend of the family, but there wasn’t a Berkey kid anywhere near his age. Still, she had to admit, in the uncomfortable situation of attending a luncheon with a bunch of people she didn’t know, watching him was a nice distraction.
    In a dark suit, white shirt, and thin black tie, he was the epitome of class. Though he’d left his face unshaven, the shadow of whiskers made him look sexy, dangerous. The men at the table laughed at whatever he’d said. The women giggled like girls.
    That warm feeling she’d had the morning she thought he was going to kiss her returned. It softened her belly. Made her breath do crazy things.
    She instantly turned away. She could not be attracted to him. So what if he was gorgeous and looked fantastic in a suit and tie? And so what if his beard made her curious about what that stubble would feel like scraping across her stomach?
    She grabbed her coffee and chugged it. That was just wrong. He’d stolen her virginity, beaten her out for valedictorian, and now he wanted her dad’s business. She was not attracted to him.
    She glanced around restlessly. Morning had become afternoon, and she hadn’t even touched base with the Tidy Whitiez staff. But she couldn’t leave yet. She had to pay the Dinner Belles. Still, lunch was over. As soon as she paid, she could go home.
    She drew in a breath, straightened her shoulders, and walked the length of the rectangular dining area to the kitchen. Two steps before she got to the door, a roar of laughter enveloped her. She stopped and squeezed her eyes shut, as memories of this group gossiping about her dead mom poured through her.
    Ellie shook her head to dislodge the vivid images and terrible words, and reminded herself that her mom had been dead for years. These women were gossipy. Nothing would change that. But they’d provided a service for her. It was time to pay them.
    She stepped into the kitchen and everyone stopped talking.
    Great.
    Sandy Wojak, the short, brunette—only because of a dye job from Bang, Bangs—seventy-something leader of the group, leaned against the counter in the back by one of the kitchen’s four sinks. When she saw Ellie, she pushed off and ambled over.
    “It was a wonderful funeral for a great man. Somebody everybody in this town loved. Your dad is going to be proud of you.”
    Her throat closed. She wasn’t even sure her dad would know she’d done this.
    “How is he, by the way?”
    The ladies at the dishwashing sink eased toward them, dish towels in hand, drying cups and plates, true concern etched into the lines of