URN FOR ME (ROYAL BASTARDS MC: SACRAMENTO #9) BY WINTER TRAVERS – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: Winter Travers
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
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Dorothy
“I can’t believe I just did that.”
“Believe it, Imogen,” I said, trying to stifle my laughter. “Mr. Brooks
was always a stickler for detail. He wanted his final send-off to be just
right.”
Imogen sighed, her expression a mixture of shock and pride. She
closed the doors to the viewing room and shook her head. “I just can’t
believe he wanted to be staged at his desk, surrounded by paperwork and a
cup of coffee.” She wrinkled her nose.
I nodded, recalling the meticulous instructions Mr. Brooks had left
behind. “Yep, and don’t forget the pen in his hand. He wanted it to look like
he was in the middle of something important.” Even in the afterlife, Mr.
Brooks wanted everyone to think he was busy and always on top of his
work.
“Promise me your final wishes have nothing to do with me propping
you up anywhere. Just lay down.” Imogen leaned against the closed door
and wiped her brow. “I’m going to need a plate of nachos and a virgin
margarita, stat.”
“Cremate me, honey. That’s all I want.” Being a mortician, I thought
about my own death and funeral more than the average person. Like Mr.
Brooks, I knew how I wanted my funeral to be, though I will say mine was
very much the norm.
The front door to the funeral home opened, and Imogen’s handsome
baby daddy walked in. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head, and his
eyes homed in on Imogen. “What’s wrong?”
I hooked my arm through Imogen’s and smiled wide. “Imogen just
fulfilled Mr. Brooks’ final wish of being propped up at his desk.”
Mace curled his lip. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to you two talking
about death and dead bodies so casually.”
Imogen pushed her hair out of her face and shrugged. “That’s life.
None of us are going to make it out alive.”
Mace scoffed. “Yeah, well, you might be right, but I’d like at least sixty
years with you before that happens.”
Imogen rested her hand on her growing baby bump. “Sixty years with
our little girl sounds good to me, too.”
“Ugh, you two get more and more sappy every day,” I drawled.
Imogen pushed off the door and basically floated over to Mace.
I had never seen two people more in love than they were.
Sickening, but I was glad Imogen was happy.
“Are you here to take us out for margaritas and nachos?” I asked.
Mace nodded and kissed Imogen’s lips. “Whatever Imogen wants.
She’s the one eating for two right now.”
Imogen smiled. “God, yes. You have no idea the things I had to do to
get Mr. Brooks into that chair.”
“Dorothy didn’t help you?”
I held up my hands defensively. “Mr. Brooks left strict instructions that
Imogen was the only one who was supposed to prepare him for the wake. I
was on the other side of the door offering words of encouragement.”
Also, being a mortician, you never messed with the dead. If Mr. Brooks
wanted Imogen to prepare him for the viewing, then that was exactly what
we were going to do. We weren’t about to bring some bad or weird juju on
us.
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