Page 50 of For Better or Hearse

Realization hits her with sinking-gut shock.

Slowly, she looks back at Nathaniel, who’s gaping as well.

Standing on the poolside deck, nearly naked in a long shimmery cover-up, with vibrant pink hair, is the Bratz doll. And she’s headed straight for Nathaniel.

“You’re here,” Nathaniel says, meeting Delaney in the middle of the sun deck.

“Oh my God, it’s so freaking good to see you,” Delaney squeals, throwing herself into his arms to squeeze the life out of him.

He holds her at arm’s length to evaluate her better. “I thought you couldn’t get away until Tuesday.”

“Don’t tell Mom, but…” Delaney’s lips split into a grin. “I stole half the props on set and got fired.”

He massages his brow. “Christ, DeeDee.”

“Don’t worry. My publicist is on it,” she says. “They have to bring me back. I get shanked in prison in episode seven.” She wiggles her brows. “And then disemboweled.”

Nathaniel shakes his head. His little sister—younger by ten years—snagged a role as an inmate in a limited run series on HBO. While working as an intern on a set, she happily sat through a production of the producer’s daughter’s kindergarten play, and in the end, she got the part.

She’s truly the personality hire of the office and the Whitford family.

Aside from his grandfather, DeeDee’s the one family member he can tolerate. Even if she does arrive half-naked to every family event and can’t keep her hands off the valets.

Delaney scans the pool. Puffs out her chest. “Do you think people recognize me?”

“If you wanted to be undercover, I’d rethink the hair,” Nathaniel replies drolly. With her short pink guillotine haircut and sparkly rainbow cover-up, astronauts in space couldn’t miss her.

“Never. The hair is my calling card.” She regards him, curious. “So, how’s it going, big brother?”

“It’s…going,” Nathaniel replies.

Her gaze drops to his sunscreen-covered hands. “Looks messy.”

His mind spins with thoughts of Ash and what he was in the middle of. Rubbing in that goddamn sunscreen to the point of distraction.

Using the towel Delaney has slung over her shoulder, he wipes off the remaining sunscreen. Guilt twists in his gut. As if he’s been caught in the act. But the act of what? Helping a woman who’s so clueless she can’t even take care of herself? Never mind how fucking good she felt beneath his hands. Smooth and warm and soft.

“Ooh, is that her?”

Nathaniel snaps out of his reverie.

In his periphery, across the pool deck, there’s a flash of yellow. Ash. She’s gathering her things, smashing the magazine and towel into the beach bag like she’s planning to melt into the shadows before anyone can see.

“That’s her,” he says dryly.

It’s a given that Delaney got the scoop about Ash from his mother or Tate. News in their family travels fast and usually incorrectly.

Delaney, hand shielding her eyes, surveys her. “She looks like she could cut you.”

“Shewouldcut me.”

“Hey!” Delaney waves that same hand. “Over here.”

Fuck.

Nathaniel freezes.

Ash freezes.