Until Next Time (21 page)

“Oh, Quinn.” Her arms were around him in an instant. His hand stroked across her forearm.

“She was happy when she passed. She had lived.”

Piper’s heart wrenched tightly, squeezing the air right out of her lungs. “That’s why you won’t marry again, isn’t it?”

He bobbed his head. “I promised her she would be the only one. And I’ll keep that promise.”

This man, this wonderfully perfect man was wounded like she was. Only he didn’t even realize it.

“And you won’t love because you believe it’s selfish,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her right hand. “We’re perfect for each other, Piper.”

Her vision blurred. He was ridiculously right.

She rested her head against the strength of his back. “I know what you feel about losing Maddie, Quinn. It wasn’t only my parents I lost.”

Finally he twisted, curling his arms around her back and swinging her around to sit in his lap. “Tell me,” he said, his voice still low.

They fit perfectly together, she noticed. Skin on skin, heart to heart as she drew herself closer to his chest. She inhaled deeply, desperately needing to feel soothed by his scent, his arms, just
him.

“His name was Steven.” She closed her eyes, pressing her face to heat of his chest. “He was the son of my dad’s embalmer. Black hair, eyes so dark it didn’t look like he had pupils. And he was always mulling about, asking my dad questions about dead people. Creepy. I didn’t talk to him the entire first year.”

Quinn chuckled, sending a puff of air through her hair. “How old were you?”

“Eight. My mom passed away when I was nine, an accident when she was having routine surgery.”

“I’m so sorry, Piper.”

Her throat went tight. “At the funeral, Steven was there. And suddenly, in my state of grief, he didn’t seem so creepy. He was actually…helpful. Bringing me glasses of water and boxes of Kleenex. I didn’t leave my mother’s side for days.” She attempted to shrug off the memory of seeing her loving mother, her face devoid of her beaming smile, lying in a casket lined with white satin. “After that we were sort of inseparable.”

As she spoke, Quinn’s hand rubbed up and down her back, his breath that essential soothing sound in her ear.

“When Steven turned sixteen, he bought his dream car—a sixty-nine Camaro. It was a beat-up old thing, but it ran, and ran well. And way too fast.” She shuddered at the coming reel of memories. But no matter how tightly she clenched her eyes, she couldn’t keep them from flooding her mind. They’d been hanging out with friends by the old quarry behind the Millstone. Young and stupid, needing to find something to do to keep from going insane. A hot summer night, a few beers and boredom stole her first and only love. She could still hear the screeching of the tires along the pavement. She could still feel the dribble of blood that had cascaded down her head from the crash. And she could remember, in perfect detail, Steven’s lifeless eyes as he lay against the steering wheel.

“Car crash,” she choked out. Why hadn’t she died too? Why was life so ridiculously cruel?

He cradled her tighter, making the tension bunch up in her body. Quinn cared about her and her feelings. Just as she was slowly beginning to care about him. Like, really care. What had she gotten herself into with this man? She was pouring out her heart and soul, letting him into a place where she’d never let anyone.

“Then Dad passed when I was twenty-five, and I’ve been alone ever since.” She ended her heart pouring on a solemn note, wiping the tears from her face. It was the first, and the last time she would ever speak to anyone about this.

“That’s no way to live, Piper.”

“Please don’t lecture me on love and happiness again.”

His arms fell away and the stab of loss she felt was unsettling.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said quietly. “You and I have been through similar things, and it’s human nature to comfort.”

“I’ve just never told anyone this before.”

He gave her a soft look, the kind that made her feel like he could see her insides again. “That’s understandable. But your profession has taught you the need for support during difficult times, so please…let me comfort you.”

“I don’t know how.”

His arms wound around her again. He kissed the top of her head and simply held her. Instead of tensing up at the tenderness in his tone and touch, she curled herself into him, relishing in how perfect he was. For a moment. She would only allow herself this moment.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“May I say just one more thing?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look her in the eye.

She drew in a deep breath, preparing herself for one of his soul-searching statements. “Of course.”

“My family’s always taught me that dying is not a goodbye…it’s until next time.”

Until next time.
She closed her eyes, grief swallowing her whole. Her mother’s hugs long gone, her father’s knowledge no more, and the only love she’d ever known had been flickered out right in front of her eyes. If there was indeed a next time, she wanted to ask those she’d lost why they’d ever loved her. Why would they put themselves in a position to break someone’s heart? Then again, maybe she was the selfish one for loving them in the first place.

“Love isn’t worth the next time, Quinn,” she whispered. “Just like you’ve learned that marriage isn’t worth it, either.”

And with that, she drifted off to sleep.

<<<<>>>>>

It was worth it, Quinn thought as he stretched next to Piper and watched her sleep. It was more than worth it. While he was a man who thought his heart could only belong to one woman in marriage, it belonged to whomever he chose in love. And being right here, with Piper, knowing that she’d struggled in telling him of her past, the same as he had struggled with his, made him feel an unfurling in his chest, pulling the treasure that was Piper into his heart…in love.

He loved this woman. He’d known it was coming, but hadn’t expected it to come so fast or for it to feel like this. He remembered when he’d first felt the sprinkle of love with Maddie. They’d been so young, so silly with their feelings. His love for her was a flutter in his chest, wanting to see her laugh, needing to see her happy even though she was going through the biggest battle of her life. What they’d had had been innocent and devoid of the turmoil that life would teach them. Until it was too late, that is—too late for Maddie. While they’d known each other for practically all their lives, their love hadn’t had time to grow into a deep respect, a kindred spirit of togetherness and happily-ever-after. They’d known how their love story would end. In tragedy. So they’d keep most things light, free of tangles and arguments and stupid things. They’d never grown with each other as adults do. They’d never had to share scary moments of life, until death had taken Maddie’s. Innocent love. The perfect kind that didn’t get to sprout fully into something stronger, bottomless, forever.

He’d thought he’d been in love with other women, but now he could see that wasn’t true at all. With others, he’d merely been in lust. Wanting to gain pleasure from their touch, wanting them to have pleasure from his. But there was no dying need to keep them safe, no voice in his ear about never letting them go, no surge to protect them and keep them happy. With Piper, he had all of that and more. He had the same feelings he’d had for Maddie, and on top of that, he had that deeper connection. The kind he thought didn’t even exist. But as his heart beat faster as he looked at her, he knew
this
was love. Undying, pure, strong, deep, long lasting love. All of the things he could have had with Maddie. And all of the things he’d been missing since Maddie.

He kissed Piper’s bare shoulder and pulled up the blanket to cover her. Settling in next to her he whispered against her soft skin, “Please don’t run away from me again. I promise to give you only what you ask for.”

And with that, Quinn allowed himself to fall asleep next to the woman he loved, but would never be able to tell.

Chapter Seventeen

“You’re a sticky one, Mr. Monroe,” Piper said to the man lying on her stainless steel table. For a fifth time, she tried to insert the embalming needle into his neck. Her hands wouldn’t quit shaking. Maybe it wasn’t Mr. Monroe at all.

Three days had passed, and Piper was going out of her mind. She wasn’t used to thinking about a man when she first opened her eyes in the morning. She wasn’t used to wishing he’d call and say hello. And she certainly wasn’t used to the clawing and heart-pounding going on in her chest, thinking about the next time she’d see him.

She loved it.

She hated it.

And she had no idea what to do about it. She’d been very serious when she’d asked Quinn “What have you done to me?” He’d shifted her entire world, everything she thought she knew, in such a short amount of time. He tucked himself into her life—into her heart—without even trying. And she was furious about it. With him, with herself, with everything she’d tried to stay away from for so long.

Love was selfish. End of story.

But why couldn’t she keep her hands from twitching at the thought of him? Why, for the love of the best German chocolate, could she not push his captivating eyes out of her mind?

She knew the answer, but she couldn’t admit it. That would be her biggest weakness. Admitting he’d gotten under her skin, twisting her feelings and making her care, would be the worst thing she could do—for the both of them. If it killed her, and it probably would, she would keep what they had simple, detached, just sex. That was what she knew. And that was the only thing she wanted, needed. As long as Quinn could keep his end of their bargain, she could do the same. She
would
do the same. After all, they were great together. Fan-freakin’-tastic in bed. He was a lover who pleased her endlessly, ruthlessly, perfectly. She wasn’t about to give that up. Loving was selfish, but keeping a man who was phenomenal in bed was plain smart.

The swish of the embalming room door made Piper’s head snap up.

“Got everything packed and ready for the conference this weekend?” Margo asked, trundling in and plopping a box down on the counter.

The equipment in Piper’s hand clanked to the tile floor. “Oh, my God, I forgot all about it. I thought that was in a few weeks.”

Margo’s cheeks folded into a frown. “Uh, no. You all right?”

Piper scrambled to pick up the needles and tubes from the floor, jamming them back into their holders on the wall. Swiping her arm across her forehead, she answered, “A little scatterbrained, I guess. Ignore me.” She ran her hands down her plastic apron and hustled to the other side of the room. Stripping off her gloves and smock, she rattled off a list of things she had forgotten to do.

“I need to call the convention people and ask them about speaking on behalf of the foundation. I thought I’d have more time than this. Jessica’s still out, and I need to find someone to work in the office while I’m gone. Where does someone find a replacement that I don’t really want? Gavin mentioned something about going to the convention and wanted me to do something…jeez, what was it?”

Margo’s hand fell on her shoulder. “Should I be writing this stuff down for you, Piper?”

Piper spun about, her face heating with some unknown discomfort. “Oh, no. I’ve got it under control.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

Piper’s eyes narrowed. “When you operate your own funeral home, you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

Margo’s hands shot up. “Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you. Listen, why don’t you let me take over for Jess while you’re gone—” She held up a hand before Piper could protest. “It’ll give me good practice. I think I can handle this place for a few days, Piper. You go call the convention people right now, and I’ll call Gavin for you. Then you can gather up all the stuff you need to go. That way you’ll be packed and ready to jump on your plane first thing Friday morning.” Her thick brow shot up. “You
do
have a plane ticket, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course. I booked that months ago when I made arrangement to attend the conference. And thank you, Margo. That’s more than I could ask for.” She cocked her head, studying the woman. Piper could admit she didn’t know a lot about Margo, even though they worked side-by-side for a year. That was a shame, Piper realized. “I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.” The words slipped out before Piper could stop them.

Margo’s eyes went wide. “Okay, when you get back from this convention, you’re taking a vacation.”

Piper exploded in laughter. A vacation. Yeah. Right.

“I mean it. There’s something different about you.”

“As in different bad?” Piper asked, her voice cracking.

“No. Not at all. Something good. I’m not sure what’s caused this change in you, boss, but it’s good to see a different side of you.” She winked. The woman actually winked at Piper. And Piper didn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable by it. Which, again, was odd.

“I better go make that phone call.” Piper skittered to the doorway.

“Want me to finish him?” Margo called out, referring to Mr. Monroe.

“Oh, yes, thank you.”

Margo grinned, the strange twinkle in her eye evident. “I’ll take care of my end of your chores as soon as I get done. You get packed.”

Piper gave her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Margo’s bubbling laughter followed her all the way up the stairs. She stopped at the top, sliding her jacket back on over her pink tank top, and stepped into the foyer. Quinn’s lean frame stood by the front door, his light hair shining under the afternoon light sprinkling in through the lace curtains. Casual, yet sexy, in black trousers and a button-up white shirt. Piper’s heart did a little flip in her chest.

“Hey,” she squeaked out.

He crossed over to her, eyes gleaming, and placed a pliant kiss on her too-eager lips. “Thought you might like to have lunch.”

Piper glanced at the clock on the wall. It was that late already? She could have sworn she’d only been working for maybe an hour or so. Where had the time gone? Oh, yeah…wandering thoughts had sucked up every minute.

“I’d love to, but I can’t.”

His brow creased, his gaze flicking to Jessica’s empty desk. “Too busy because your secretary is out?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. See that sign there?” She pointed to a crafty little sign she’d created when she realized Jessica was going to be out so long. Piper hadn’t had time to hire a temporary replacement; after all, no one could replace Jessica. And she certainly didn’t have time to sit behind the desk herself all day. So she kept her phone on constant forward to her cell and left a little sign with a clever little bell.

“Ring if you need service?” The humor in Quinn’s voice made Piper grin. “I’d like to have some
service.
”

Her grin spread at his husky tone. Her face grew warm and so did a million other places on her body. And with only a few words.

She poked him gently in the ribs, making herself concentrate on what she really needed to do. “The sign works. And while I’d be happy to service you, Mr. Oliver, I’m afraid I can’t today. I’ve got to pack and get ready for a convention this weekend I forgot all about.”

“The one you talked about with Grandpa? I thought that wasn’t for several more weeks.”

Piper grimaced. “I thought it was,” she answered, annoyed with herself. “Cheese and crackers, I’m going to make a mess of it. I’ll still do what I promised him, but I’m in no way or shape prepared. Do you think you could call George and let him know I got the date wrong? Do you think he could gather up the information before I leave on Friday? Goodness, will he even want to go on such short notice? I mean, we’d talked about me doing the presentation, and him being there only to answer questions, or maybe he doesn’t need to go at all, which is fine…”

His hands fell on her shoulders, massaging deeply, thoroughly, all while he looked her in the eye. The tension slid right out of her body. “This is sooner than planned, yes,” he said, pulling her closer. His kissed the tip of her nose. “Don’t worry, though, we’ll get it covered. I’m going.”

Piper stiffened. “What?”

“Grandpa asked me to go after you two had your little powwow with the foundation people. He thought that out of all us that I’d be the best one to win over the crowd.” The corner of his mouth curled up.

He could win over a crowd, all right. Heck, he could stop traffic if he really wanted to. “Oh, well. The convention is a week long. Surely you don’t want to stay that whole time? I don’t know
when
I’ll be able to get a break-out session or something for you to talk at.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make time. I’m due for some vacation anyway; this will be good for us.”

Piper inwardly cringed at his use of the word
us.
He made it sound so official. So permanent.

“Are you sure? Because I think I can handle it alone,” she said, trying her best to cover the unease in her voice.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay, then. You’ll have to stay at a different hotel than the one that’s hosting the convention. I believe it’s booked solid.”

The grip on her shoulders tightened. “Why? I’ll stay with you.”

Stay with her
? For an entire week? That was a whole lot of nights and days. Was he crazy?

“You might not be able to get a flight,” she said quickly. “Such short notice and all.”

His answering frown made her stomach lurch. “I’m a pilot, Piper. Perfectly capable of flying my plane to wherever we need to go.”

Now her stomach was in her throat. “Your little plane can fly all the way to Vegas?”

“The convention is in Las Vegas? Seriously?” His chest rumbled with a laugh.

“Why is that funny?”

He shrugged, dropping his hands from her shoulders. There it was again, that sting of loss.

“Vegas isn’t a place people think about when thinking about death, I guess. It’s an upbeat place with a hell of a nightlife, I’ve heard. It’s weird to me.”

She crossed her arms. “So funeral directors can’t have fun, then?”

His grin was swift. “I didn’t say that. Knowing you, it’s surprising, that’s all.”

She couldn’t be upset with his conclusion. He was right. She was different. Her breed was different as well.

“To answer your question, yes, my little plane can make it to Vegas…with a few stops in between.”

“Oh. I’d rather you didn’t do that.”

“Go with you?”

“Fly yourself, I mean. I’ll find you a flight. With me.” Since he seemed pretty bent on going no matter what she threw at him, she might as well make the effort. And if they were going to die in the fiery inferno of a metal death trap, they might as well do it together. “It’s safer that way, I think.”

He nodded, grinning. “If you say so.”

“So can you pull everything together with George? Then we can plan what we’re going to do on the trip over? I haven’t called the convention people yet to see if there’s a speaking slot open. I hope there is. If there’s not, maybe we can work something out with a booth, maybe. Or possibly we can stand in the lobby and harass people as they walk by. Goodness, I wish I had more time.”

His finger came up to her lips. “You’re babbling. It’ll be fine.” He replaced his finger with his lips.

Piper drew him in, wanting, needing his heat, his passion, to settle her all-over-the-place nerves. It didn’t matter that he was part of the problem.

“Fine,” he whispered. “I’m sorry we can’t have lunch, but can I see you tonight?”

Piper licked her lips, savoring his taste. “If no one needs my services.”

“I’ll cross my fingers that I’m the only one who needs them tonight.” With a quick peck, he was out the door, and Piper was sliding down into Jessica’s empty seat.

Each time she saw Quinn, she didn’t want him to go. And every time he did, an empty ache settled in her chest, making her agitated and gloomy. And yet, she knew that the more time she spent with him, the more trouble she was brewing for herself. Next week was going to be the longest one of her life.

<<<<>>>>>

Quinn strode into his grandpa’s house after his day of work, a little tired, but anticipating getting to see Piper again that evening. She hadn’t called yet to say that someone else required her services, but he was trying not to get his hopes up. After all, it was Wednesday and she hadn’t been able to pull herself away from work since she’d left his bed on Sunday. He missed her.

“Grandpa?” Quinn called out as he walked across the hardwood floor in the foyer.

“Back here,” George called out.

Quinn ducked through the living room, wound around the dining room, and made his way to the back porch off the kitchen. He found his grandpa leaning over wild roses vining up the roof columns.

“Still thinking about cutting them down?” asked Quinn as the screen door slammed behind him.

Sweat beaded down George’s face. “Nah. Thought about clipping off all the heads, though.” A wide grin split his wrinkled face. “You think the neighbors would find that odd?”

Quinn belted a laugh. “No doubt, but Grandma would have approved.”