Undertaking Love Page 0,9
to tie myself down to some man, only to see it all go wrong a few years later and end up as another divorce statistic. No thanks.’
She winced as a shadow passed over Emily’s face.
‘Oh God, Em, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you, obviously.’ She squeezed her friend’s hand. ‘It’s just a personal thing, that’s all. I’ve had more step-parents over the years than I have fingers to count them on. Us Jacobs just aren’t cut out for all of that forever and ever, amen stuff.’
Emily sighed. ‘Well, that’s a shame. Because if you were in the market for romance, I think I’ve caught our new neighbour making eyes over the coffins at you.’
Marla brandished her spoon across the table. ‘Enough, Em.’
‘But I have!’ Emily laughed. ‘Come on, admit it … he’s easy on the eye, isn’t he?’
Marla studied her fingernails. ‘I haven’t noticed.’
‘Rubbish! Let’s pretend for a second that he isn’t an undertaker, and he isn’t your arch enemy …’ Emily’s eyes danced. ‘You would, wouldn’t you?’
Marla looked her friend straight in the eye. ‘Honestly? No. No, I wouldn’t.’
And she meant it. The way her body reacted whenever Gabe was around frightened the living daylights out of her. Even without all of the barriers Emily had listed, Marla’s biggest problem with Gabe was that he stole away her powers of self-control without even trying.
Half an hour later, Marla sloshed a measure of brandy into a tumbler and threw one last log on the fire. She’d finally managed to prise Emily away from the ice cream and into a taxi, and had spent the last twenty minutes clearing and straightening the kitchen until the cottage was back to peaceful perfection again. Bluey loped in, well-fed and content to flop down onto the sofa he more than filled, and Marla curled herself into the armchair beside him. Companionable bookends, as always. She reached out and stroked his gentle face as she sipped the night-cap in an attempt to settle her stomach. It seemed to be constantly jumbled up with nerves these days. She hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since Gabriel Ryan had roared into the village. It had taken three years of hard work to carve out her place here in this community, and the sense of safety and peace it afforded her was precious beyond measure.
Gabriel. Even his name was a misnomer.
The man was no angel, that much was for sure. Hell’s angel, more like, with that filthy great motorbike and James Dean sex appeal. Strange really, for an undertaker. But then, as a marriage-phobic wedding coordinator, who was she to judge?
‘A petition? Against a funeral parlour? That’s bloody hilarious, mate.’
Dan laughed as he knocked back the last of his pint and raised his glass towards the landlord for a refill.
Gabe didn’t laugh with him. It wasn’t that he was worried that the petition might actually work. In fact, he was pretty certain that it would come to nothing, given that as far as he could see, it was based on nothing in the first place. But the fact that it existed at all was drawing unnecessary eyes his way, and that was the last thing he needed. He’d hoped to set up shop quietly, to slide into place in the community as if he’d always been there. His business wasn’t about trumpet fanfares, or razzamatazz launches with crazy Elvis impersonators; it was understated and unobtrusive, just there ready and waiting for those who needed him.
‘It’s a pain in the arse, Dan. People are shoving their noses against the window to get a look at this long-haired Irish bloke who’s blown trouble into town.’
Dan raised his glass and his eyebrows.
‘Don’t forget the dirty great fuck-off noise-polluting bike.’
He smirked as he tossed a peanut in the air and caught it in his open mouth with a snap. Gabe grinned despite his frustration. Every morning over the last week he’d watched Marla strut past the funeral parlour window with too many folders in her arms, her wild curls blowing around her face. And each time she passed, she’d thrown a customary look of disgust at his motorbike.
‘Have you met Marla, the girl from the wedding chapel?’
He balanced a beer mat on the rim of the table and flicked it upwards, then caught it mid air in a show of nonchalance.
Dan wolf whistled under his breath.
‘Redhead, great legs? Not to speak to, but I’ve seen her around all right. I take it you’ve already had the pleasure?’
Something about the appreciative gleam in