Seeing is Believing (19 page)

That did it. Piper felt tears well up in her eyes and she bit her lip in mortification. She wasn’t even sure why she was on the verge of crying, but she was.

Shelby’s eyes widened. “Oh, baby Jesus in the cradle. I’m sorry. What’s wrong? Did my idiot cousin hurt you?”

She shook her head, fighting back the tears, feeling incredibly stupid. “Of course not. I just . . . I don’t know.”

“Sit.” Shelby gestured to a chair. “Tell me what is going on.”

“Nothing. It’s fine.” This wasn’t something she could talk to Shelby about, for obvious reasons. She was mortified that she was crying. Or almost crying. She wasn’t really crying. And she had no reason to cry. About anything. She had a wonderful life, with a wonderful family.

“Well, you’re not just crying to wet your cheeks. Something must be wrong.” Shelby scrutinized her, concern on her face. “He’s not worth crying over, honey. Honestly. I mean, I love Brady, don’t get me wrong. He’s a lot of fun and there’s just something about him that makes a person smile, but he isn’t worth the price of Kleenex when it comes right down to it. No man is.”

That was a mixed message if Piper ever heard one. She wasn’t really sure what to say to that. “Brady didn’t do anything wrong, Shelby.” He hadn’t. He had been honest and up-front with her. She had pursued him even when he had suggested that maybe it wasn’t the best idea.

The problem was not that Brady was an idiot. It was that she was an idiot. Because now she had to give him up because she could not stomach disappointing her father. “But . . . I think that my dad thinks that Brady and I . . .” Which they had. “And he’s disappointed in me.” Shelby’s sympathetic look almost undid her entirely. Piper propped her chin up with her palm on the well-worn table and felt miserable.

“Hon, your dad really has no say in what you do in your private time. Whether he wants to admit it or not, you’re a grown woman. He and I had already been married for four years and divorced by the time I was your age.”

Sometimes it was hard to remember that Shelby and her dad had been married. They seemed so much more like brother and sister to her. It was weird to think of them as passionate about each other.

“Your dad just doesn’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

She wasn’t going to get hurt living in a bubble, but she wasn’t going to experience life that way either. “I know. But it just seems like he’s angry with me. Like he thinks I’m—”

Piper suddenly felt a shove, her head catapulting forward and her chin falling off her arm. The force was so powerful, she almost hit her nose on the table. When her shock wore off, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Rachel. There were none of her customary tears. Rachel was angry.

Rage distorted her shadowy features. Her eyes were narrowed, her eyebrows arched, her forehead furrowed beneath her severe hairstyle. Her mouth was twisted into a sneer, and Piper sucked in a breath. It made her feel a profound sense of sorrow, and she wasn’t sure why. More likely she should be afraid, but she wasn’t. She just felt like a huge weight had descended on her, like a wet blanket, like she was taking Rachel’s rage as tangibly as the blow she’d just been given.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she told Shelby, standing up and sliding to the left away from Rachel’s reach, her anxiety crawling up her throat. This wasn’t good. She wasn’t sure what had changed so rapidly, why Rachel was suddenly so aware of her and determined to hurt her.

Was the spirit of a murderess retaining the same rage she’d felt when she had found her fiancé cheating on her? Was she furious that she was forced to stay here, in this house, with him?

“Are you sure?” Shelby looked like she wasn’t buying the load of crap Piper was trying to sell.

“Yes, I just lost my balance and when my head fell I bit my tongue.” Piper couldn’t bring herself to tell her about Rachel. She didn’t want to be fussed over. Pitied. Questioned. She didn’t want to hear the suggestion that she should look into the history of her haunt. It was hard enough to know that Brady was off digging into the fiancé’s past.

She just wanted to pretend that none of it was happening. That really wasn’t so much to ask for.

“You look as nervous as a whore in church.”

“Well, my dad is upset with me. That upsets me.”

Shelby stood up and came around the table. Piper had managed to inch her way closer to the doorway, putting a good four feet between her and Rachel, who was watching them with a look of resentment. For a split second Piper thought Shelby was going to walk right through Rachel, but she just missed her.

“There’s a draft in here all of sudden.” Shelby glanced around her. Then it suddenly seemed to occur to her what might be happening and she opened her mouth to speak.

Which Piper was determined to avoid. “Where’s the stuff you wanted me to take to the house? I need to get going. I have open house at school tomorrow night and I still have some prep work to do.” The start of a school year was always an exciting time. It was only her third year teaching, but Piper didn’t think she was ever going to get tired of that fresh start a new year brought, a crop of nervous and excited little ones starting off on their big kindergarten adventure. Frankly, all the new parents with a thousand questions would be a welcome distraction. “How do the girls like their new teacher? Mrs. Lucas is really great.”

“Oh, they like her a lot. Lilly isn’t the reader that Emily is, so I might see about some reading intervention.”

“I can work with her if you’d like.”

With that, Shelby was off and running in the direction Piper had guided her to, discussing the pros and cons of various reading materials and what would be best for Lilly and whether there was really any cause for concern.

By the time Piper walked out the door ten minutes later, Shelby seemed to have forgotten entirely that Piper had almost cried and that the kitchen had a cold spot.

It was a definite talent to be able to remove all attention from herself at any given moment. There wasn’t a whole lot to thank her stepfather for, but she supposed she owed the bastard for this one.

That night when Piper took the sheets her mother handed her and went into the guest bedroom, she hesitated, then set them on the dresser, leaving the sheets Brady had used on the bed.

When she crawled into her new temporary quarters, she buried her head into the pillow and drew in a deep breath, the masculine scent of Brady still lingering on the linen.

Lame. Totally lame. That’s what she was.

Or was it possible to fall in love with someone she barely knew?

Or had she always loved him, from the first time she’d met him and he’d treated her as any other eight-year-old? Like she wasn’t weird or different.

Piper rolled onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. Being in love with Brady would be really, incredibly stupid. She liked to think she wasn’t that dumb.

But she was having a hard time convincing herself of her intelligence at the moment as she snuggled in the sheets hoping for a lingering scent of him.

Lame.

Piper sighed.

Chapter Twelve

BRADY TAPED OFF THE BASEBOARDS IN THE LIVING
room of the house on Swallow Street and tried not to feel frustrated. It wasn’t working. He hadn’t seen Piper in four days. Not since they had done some serious pleasure seeking in the back of her truck. They had succeeded. Then nothing. He hadn’t seen her even for a minute.

It was deflating. When you shared something like that with someone, you wanted to see them again, share the secret of what you had done together, what just the two of you had shared, and no one else would ever have knowledge of. You wanted to laugh with them, kiss them. Do it again.

Piper had said they were having an affair. But as far as he could tell, they were having a whole lot of nothing. It was making him nuts.

When he pursued a woman, usually she let herself be caught right away, or she gave chase with lots of flirtation and games. Piper wasn’t doing any of those things. She wasn’t avoiding him, exactly, since she did answer his texts, and she did have reasonable explanations for why she couldn’t see him, but it still felt like a brush-off.

Why that made him so aggravated, he wasn’t exactly sure. But damn it, if half the town was talking about him and Piper, he wanted there to actually
be
a him and Piper.

Brady paused, blue painter’s tape stretched out between his arms. A him and Piper? Was that what he wanted?

He slapped the tape on the baseboard, disgusted with himself. That wasn’t going to happen. He had to go back to Chicago. She’d made her feelings on moving out of Cuttersville perfectly clear. Her father wanted to kill him. Plus his own family didn’t think he was good enough for her. Nothing about that said happy relationship.

Relationship.

God, he was out of mind. Too much fresh air out here in the sticks. He needed to get back to Wrigleyville, hit an exciting new restaurant and a bar for drinks.

He had music cranked, intense heavy metal that felt like there was a drummer banging away on his kit inside Brady’s skull. It was perfect for his mood. Maybe the high volume would drown out his thoughts.

Having spent the day sanding and scraping and prepping, he was ready to paint, and he had to admit, the no-brainer work was satisfying. He didn’t have it in him to think, which might explain why he had yet to update his resume and send it out. It wasn’t good to ignore his unemployment status, but at the moment he didn’t particularly care.

Doing a little head banging, he moved on down the wall, singing along with the screamer lyrics. Standing up to move to the window, he even did a little air guitar since there was no one there to see him.

Spinning around, he suddenly stopped strumming. No one there to see him except Piper.

Jesus. Really? He’d been hot to see her for days and this was their first post-mind-blowing-sex encounter? He in dusty jeans and an old T-shirt he’d found in his dresser from high school to paint in that stated,
PROFESSIONAL MUFF DIVER
. While doing air guitar. He’d picked the shirt because he knew it was going to get trashed painting and he didn’t share the opinion of his fifteen-year-old self that this was a funny statement. It was just stupid, and now it felt even more stupid given that someone else was seeing it. A someone whose respect he actually wanted.

“Hi,” he blurted out, feeling like a douche bag tool idiot moron.

She was smiling. “Hi.”

Or at least that was what he thought she said, since the music was blaring and making conversation impossible. Brady hit the volume button repeatedly until the music went down to something other than earsplitting.

For the first time in a very long time, he was unsure of himself with a woman. He didn’t like it. So he mentally pulled his balls back out of his body and got a grip. He crossed the room and gave her a kiss. “I’m glad to see you.”

He was. Ridiculously so, despite his offensive shirt. Which he felt compelled to explain. “This is an old shirt. Found it in my old drawer at my parents’ to paint in. And I was never a pro.”

Fortunately, she laughed. “There’s still time.”

Brady loved that she had a sense of humor behind her quiet exterior. “Well, I am unemployed. Maybe I should check out the pay scale.”

“I can give a letter of recommendation.”

Oh, yeah. She was remembering the other night. He liked the sound of that. “Thanks. But truthfully I’d rather keep my services exclusive to one woman. And by that, I mean you, so don’t ask me who.”

Her eyes darted to the floor. “Brady, I want to spend time with you. I do.”

His throat closed. Jesus, was he getting dumped? That definitely sounded like he was getting dumped.

“But my family’s opinion is very important to me, and they don’t understand why I would get involved with you knowing you’re going back to Chicago. They have concerns.”

A small curse slid out before he could stop it. “What it really means is they don’t think you should be involved with me. Hey, I can’t say I blame them. I would feel the same way if I were Danny. But what happened to us having fun? Us having an affair?” He wanted her to remember that. Even as he knew he never wanted to jeopardize her relationship with her family, he still wanted what he wanted.

And what he wanted was her.

Her eyes were agonized. “I want to do that. More than anything. But . . .”

“But you have to live here after I leave.” Brady sighed. “I get it.” He hated it. But he got it. “I have to say, I’m more than a little disappointed, Piper. I enjoy spending time with you.” He took her hand in a move that could probably be classified as manipulative. Rubbing his thumb across her palm, he said coaxingly, “I want to spend more time with you.”

She was caving, he could tell. Her eyes were soft and wide, her lips parting. “I . . . I have to think about it.”

“Thank you,” he told her in all sincerity. He was being a total selfish prick, but if she chose to see him, then he didn’t have to feel guilty about that, right? “So did you just stop by to tell me that?”

“I have bags from Shelby. She sent some food for you. But I figured it’s about time for me to make good on my bargain to your grandmother to help you paint. It looks like I’m right on time.”

He was down with that. “Sounds good to me. Let me take care of these bags and then we can get started.”

When he picked up the shopping bags and headed for the kitchen, Piper burst out laughing. “What?” He liked to think his ass was cause for groping, not laughing.

“The back of your shirt is even better than the front.”

Uh-oh. He hadn’t looked at the back. “What does it say? Or do I even want to know?”

“It says, ‘I yodel in the Valley.’”

“I don’t even know what that means,” he told her, trying not to wince at his total lack of game. He was not pulling out a stellar seduction in Piper’s case. He did know what it meant, but for some reason he felt compelled to act innocent. Frankly, it was a look that didn’t work on him.

“I’m not sure either. It’s like it could be a double entendre, right?”

“I’m fairly certain it is, come to think of it.” He waggled his tongue at her to demonstrate.

Her eyes widened in understanding. “Oooh.”

Brady peeked in the bags before setting them on the counter. Yay. He had cookies. “By the way, I much prefer sleeping in your bed than sleeping on the floor. Thank you.”

When he turned she was in the doorway. He just realized it was the first time he’d ever seen her wearing jeans. They seemed to be work jeans of some kind. There was a paint smear on the thigh and the cuffs were frayed. Her little navy tank top said
OHIO
across it, and she was painfully cute. He wanted to lick her from head to toe. He wanted to lock her in the bedroom. His bedroom, soon to be her bedroom, but not their bedroom. It was so damn frustrating.

“You’re welcome. It’s my pleasure.”

“No. I think ‘pleasure’ would be a good description if you were sharing the bed with me.” Just to drive his point home.

Her cheeks tinged with color. “I imagine so.”

He figured that was enough laying the seeds for the moment. “Do you want a drink or anything before we start painting? It seems I have cookies now.”

“I’m fine, thanks. So do you want to cut in or roll?”

Neither. But he didn’t want to sound like a lazy shit so he told her, “You pick. I’m fine with either one.”

“Okay. I’ll roll.” She went over to the paint can and pried the lid off.

Brady went back to taping off the window. “Do you want me to turn the music off?”

“No, I love metal.”

Say what? How many ways could this woman surprise him? “For real?”

“Yeah. I’m dying to go see the Big Three—Slayer, Metallica, and Megadeth—but they never come anywhere around here.”

Brady was amused. Piper was his kind of chick.

“Plus, I’m not sure I could talk Cameron into going with me anyway.”

Hold up. “Who is Cameron?”

“My best friend. He lives in Cincinnati now. Other than my family and work friends, he’s really the only one I would want to do something like that with.” Piper poured the paint into the tray.

There was a stabbing pain in his chest that Brady suspected was jealousy. It scared the hell out of him. “Your best friend’s a guy? Did you two ever date?” He meant it to sound casual, but it just sounded annoyed.

“No. I would never date Cam, and he does not want to date me. We’re totally different. But our friendship works well. He moved here in middle school and he’s Jewish, and while this isn’t exactly the Bible Belt, a Jew is a rarity. So we were a couple of misfits who found each other.”

Brady felt better about the whole thing. Not that Piper and Cameron had been outcasts by mean kids’ stupid parameters, but because it didn’t sound like he had competition. “It’s good to have someone in your life who has known you a long time. I didn’t really stay in touch with anyone.” Nor was he sure why. Maybe because as the years had ticked by, Brady hadn’t wanted anyone back home to know he was an art school failure.

Picking up a brush, he dipped it in the paint. It wasn’t the same as painting as an artist. The brush was huge, the paint quantity enormous, but just the smell, the sound of his brush moving on the wall, raised a fair amount of melancholy in him. It was a raw deal to get just enough talent to have a dream, but not enough to be successful at it.

It also sucked that he couldn’t offer to take Piper to see the Big Three. But he’d need to rob a bank to take her on a trip. That was seriously depressing.

“My mom always says she thought Cam and I would end up together, but she just doesn’t get that if there isn’t an attraction, there isn’t an attraction. You can’t create that, and we’ve had enough time now to see it’s not going to just appear like magic.” Piper was rolling away and wasn’t looking at him.

Which was good because Brady suspected he looked like a bratty kid. He was jealous. It was insane. Nothing that she was saying was anything other than what it was—she telling him that her friendship was strictly platonic. Yet all he could think was that he wouldn’t mind if Cameron fell off a bridge.

“Attraction is a funny thing.” He went back for more paint. “Like for example, the fact that I’m attracted to you even though it’s not a good idea. I can’t seem to stop it.” Brady told himself to shut up but he couldn’t stop the flood of words. He wanted—no, needed—to hear that she was just as interested in him as he was in her. “I know I should let you end this because this is your home and I don’t want to cause trouble for you, but damn it, Piper, I can’t.”

Oh, God, what was he doing? Brady dropped his brush in anger. Now he was just being an ass. He was disgusted with himself. She was trying to do the right thing and he was pressuring her.

When Piper turned, her face was stricken. “I know. I can’t really stop it either. I don’t want to disappoint my parents, but I . . .”

The light from the living room window streamed over her face and her eyes were enormous, filled with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. She looked beautiful. The most beautiful woman he’d ever met, her beauty so real and here and now, yet at the same time so otherworldly. Dust motes danced in the sunbeam, her skin fresh and pink, her shadow cast back onto the wall behind her.

He swallowed hard. “You what?” he asked hoarsely.

“I just want to spend every minute I can with you,” she whispered.

Something in his chest swelled. He wasn’t even sure he could speak. His fingers itched, his feelings consuming him. There was something about the way she stood, the play of light, what was passing between them, that made him want to capture the moment. He wanted to preserve her beauty, he wanted to share how he felt, what he saw. How when he looked at her, she was nothing but perfection, the rare person who was beautiful inside and out.

Frantic, he looked around the floor. He needed a pencil. A small brush. Something, anything. There was nothing but the wall paint supplies, and that wasn’t going to work. He spotted Piper’s purse and he went in it, the urgent need to sketch compelling him to do what he normally wouldn’t, like ransack someone’s private space.

“What . . .” she started to speak in confusion.

Brady found a pen at the bottom and a nubby pencil. With both, he’d make it work. “Don’t move.”