Until Next Time (14 page)

“Would that be the same box that was sitting on your coffee table?”

“One and the same.” Thankfully, she released the napkin, allowing the color to come back to her fingers.

“Do you want to tell me what was in the box?”

“It was stuff of mine that he’d kept for some godforsaken reason. I don’t understand it. He was the one always telling me, after Mom died, not to get attached to people. To not let people get close to you, and yet he kept stuff of mine close to him all the time.” Her eyes danced across the room. “Because of him and Mom and…” She huffed out an aggravated breath. “Never mind. I just didn’t understand the box. It made me think of things I hadn’t thought about in a long time.”

“Like why people leave you.”

“Yes.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Depends on the question. I’ve already said more than I expected.”

“That’s fair.” And yet it wasn’t. Quinn wanted to hear so much more. If he only knew what was keeping the real Piper buried beneath layers of baggage, he’d do anything to remove it. “If you don’t like dealing with loss, why do you continue to work at the funeral home?”

Her head snapped up. “Because it’s what I know. All I know. Dad would want me to continue what he started.”

“And yet you suffer for it every day. Why, Piper?”

The attack on the napkin commenced. “I don’t suffer because of the job, Quinn. It’s never been the job; it never will be the job. I love the job.”

“Okay. It’s okay, I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t expect you to understand. I’ve seen your family deal with death.”

Quinn jerked backed. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You celebrate it.”

“We don’t celebrate the death part. Death is tragic, but it’s something that everyone, at some point in their life, has to face. My family taught me that death isn’t the end; there’s more to life than suffering and pain.”

Piper’s gaze landed squarely on Quinn. “Is there?”

“Yes.”

She shrugged restlessly, dropping the tattered napkin to the table. “I haven’t seen it.”

Quinn dared to go out on a limb. “Is that because you’ve seen it every day and have never had the chance to really separate what happens in your funeral home from what’s happened in your life?”

She blinked, drawing her arms across her chest. “It wasn’t just the box. It was Gavin, too.”

God, there was that name again. It was like fingers down a chalkboard to Quinn. The man liked Piper; Quinn had seen that with his own two eyes. But Piper had said it was nothing, and he believed that—believed her. But he didn’t trust that man. And Quinn noticed that Piper had quickly changed the subject. There was something there, something dark, something about death that kept her tangled and suffocating in her own emotions. It was heartbreaking.

“Do you want to tell me about that?” he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know about
Gavin.

Piper struggled with eye contact. She fidgeted with the silverware before twisting her hands in her lap. “You and I are so different, Quinn. And Gavin and I are so much alike.”

He tensed. “I don’t know what you mean. Sometimes differences can be a good thing.”

“Not always.” Her voice was adrift. “Have you ever met someone who touches you in a place you didn’t even know you had?”

“Yes.” Two people, actually. His late wife and the woman sitting before him.

“And yet, that same person makes you want to run and hide because you aren’t ready for the tidal wave? And better yet, have you ever met someone else that you could picture yourself with, and not have those same fears?” She picked up her napkin again. “Jeez. First I have a mini-meltdown, and now I’m probably not making any sense. What a great date I am.”

Quinn smiled at her, trying his best to ease whatever was making her so tense. “You
are
a great date, Piper. The perfect one, if you ask me. I could listen to you read the phonebook and still be happy that you’re here with me.”

And there it was. A long, slow smile. Exactly what he’d wanted to see. “You don’t even know me that well.”

“True, but I want to. That’s all that matters.”

“I really like you, Quinn. And that terrifies me.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

She dropped the napkin, and his hand found hers across the table. His smile was comforting as he said, “I can do complicated.”

“Good. Good, because I’m not sure how good I’m going to be at it.”

He stroked her silky skin, wishing that she would look him in the eye. “You’ll be fine. I’m not going anywhere.”

The pink rushed to her cheeks. Her eyelashes batted as she drew her gaze upwards to finally meet his. “Everyone goes somewhere eventually.”

“You’re talking about dying.”

“Yes.”

And finally he was getting somewhere. Learning something. “You can’t think like that, Piper.”

“It’s the only way I know how to think.”

“Care to give me a chance to change how you think?”

Her grin made his heart beat faster. “You could try.”

“I think I’m up for the challenge.”

“Before we go one step further, I think it’s only fair that you know that Gavin asked me out for a date today.”

He blinked slowly, not allowing his discomfort to show. “Hopefully you told him you were taken?”

“Well, I didn’t know I was—officially—until tonight. I’ll make it clear to him the next time I see him.”

He cleared his throat. “Will you…uh, be seeing him soon? And, well, often?”

She squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry, Quinn. I’ll make sure he gets the message loud and clear. I think it’s safe to say that while what you and I have is, uh, a complicated, fascinating, and terrifying thing, I’m going to run with it.”

The tension slithered right out of him. Amazing, this girl. Simply amazing. “That’s the best news I’ve had all day.”

“And please understand that Gavin is a supplier, so I will see him on a fairly regular basis.”

Quinn didn’t care much for that idea, but like he’d said, he trusted Piper. “Seems fair. Question?”

“Shoot.”

“Was Gavin there during the box discovery?”

“Yes.”

“And, well, did you speak to him about it?”

Her grip on his hand faltered. “He came up to my apartment after I ran out of the basement. He wanted to make sure I was okay. Then he went on and on about our line of work and how easy it would be to be
together
because we each know what the other one wants…needs.”

“No attachment,” Quinn murmured. “No love?” Another small piece of the Piper puzzle fell into place.

“Something like that. We understand the business, Quinn. That’s all. We know what the clients need and what the dead need. We might share some of the same inner values, but it’s only because we grew up in a similar environment.”

“But that must seem—” what was the word he needed? “—comforting to you?”

She nodded. “Yes, briefly. Until I saw you in my doorway. And then when you rushed in to make sure I was okay, I couldn’t think about anything else but you. Sure, I’ve got some scrambled feelings in my gut right now, but that’s normal. Well, not really, because normally I would take every emotion, shove it in a box, and bury it, but I can’t seem to do that with you.”

He arched a brow. “I’ll take that as a compliment. I’d love to hear more about these emotions.”

“Well, there’s plenty more where that came from, believe you me.” She gave him a soft laugh, and it floated across the table, slamming right into him. What was it about this woman that made him tilt on his axis?

“You really are fascinating, Piper. I don’t know what it is about you that makes me want jump over this table right now.”

Her eyes went wide, and her lips twisted into a grin.

He glanced at his watch. “Crap, we have to go.”

She looked startled. “What? Something wrong?”

He hauled her up from the table. “We have to be at Grandpa’s in ten minutes or we’ll be forever barred from family game night.”

“Oooh…sounds serious,” she teased as he dragged her across the restaurant.

“It
is
serious. Remember when I said we don’t bite?”

She laughed again. “I remember.”

“Well, we don’t.” He paid at the front counter, and they rushed outside. “Until family game night comes around.”

<<<<>>>>>

It was the strangest sight Quinn had ever seen. Grandpa was vying for a chance to get his girlfriend on his Pictionary team. Piper was his date, she would be on
his
team.

“Listen up!” Dad rang in. “If you all can’t decide who is on what team, we’re playing something else.”

Quinn laughed and enjoyed the way Piper’s eyes lit up at the interactions between his family. They’d been easy on her during this game night. On their best behavior, really. They hadn’t fought over which games they were playing—each wanting to play the game they were best at—and they hadn’t even hauled out the traveling trophies the winners received and proudly marched around with at the end of the night. Quinn figured KC had tipped them off as to her arrival, and they had planned accordingly. He appreciated that.

But when it came to a game that required teams, his family had lost it.

“I want to play with a new
partner on our team,” KC groaned. “We don’t ever get anyone new to play.”

“Tell Del he needs to bring over a friend next time around,” Quinn replied, tugging Piper closer against him.

KC frowned. “Del hasn’t had a
friend
in, like, two years.”

“To each his own,” Quinn murmured.

“Whatever. New partners mean new advantages, and everyone knows we need an advantage over this guy.” KC jabbed a finger toward his dad. “No offense.”

Marcus grinned. “I take it as the highest compliment.”

Sarah stroked KC’s arm. “I could always bring over a few of my friends, then you could fight over them.”

KC gave her a wolfish grin. “You can, but I wouldn’t recommend it if you want to see any of them again.”

Sarah laughed. “I think they could handle it.”

“At least I’ve got you to play with,” KC said, kissing Sarah quickly. “That’s all that matters.”

Quinn’s heart did a little lurch at the sight.

“I met Piper first, you know,” Grandpa’s voice chimed in. “She could qualify as my date.”

Piper giggled. Quinn could only shake his head in mild embarrassment.

“That settles it,” Dad barked. “We’re playing Imaginiff.
”

KC made sound somewhere between a baby’s cry and a grunt. Grandpa laughed as Dad stepped out of the room to retrieve the game.

And Piper leaned over and whispered, “What’s Imaginiff?”

“It’s not as animated as Pictionary, but it’s as entertaining,” Quinn replied.

“I’ve never played Pictionary, either.”

“What? Really?”

“No brothers and sisters, remember? Busy parents?”

He touched her knee, giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry. Don’t worry, though. After this night, you’ll never want to play another board game again.”

“I doubt that.”

He risked a kiss to her cheek and felt her shiver. His lips hovered over her ear. “You’re a glutton for punishment, then.”

She tilted her head towards him, her lips dangerously close to his. He still hadn’t gotten a chance to taste them. “Prove me wrong.” Her hand found his knee. She stroked a finger across his inner thigh. Dear God.

Were they talking about the board games or something else? His eyes scanned her face, stopping on her pinks lips long enough for his body to go rigid.

Thank God his father walked in and broke whatever spell she’d put on him during those few seconds.

“This game requires
no
teams,” he said, his voice stern. The entire room chuckled. He meandered over and sat next to Ma, who had remained surprisingly quiet during game night thus far.

“I’ll help you get the board set up, dear,” Ma said, popping open the lid to the box.

Like two pros, the duo had the game up and ready in the middle of the table in less than five minutes. It was good thing Del wasn’t here to argue about what color he was going to be. After a brief introduction to the game and an official reading of the rules since Piper had had never played, they were set to go.

Piper’s face lit up when Grandpa handed her the dice.

“Now you roll, Piper,” he said. She complied, biting her bottom lip. “Good. Five. Move the white marker five spaces to the left or the right.”

Piper frowned. “But that makes me have to pick either Quinn or KC’s name on the board. I don’t know if I should make that decision.”

Quinn stroked her elbow, slowly, carefully. He felt the goose bumps rise on her arm.

“Quinn,” she squeaked, moving the white piece. “I choose Quinn.”