Until Next Time (26 page)

“I want to. I really do.”

“So then, yes?”

“I can try.”

“Then that’s all I ask.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Piper and Quinn made their way to the lobby, through the corridors, and finally walked through the wood doors leading to the ballroom. Quinn gave her side a firm squeeze, crinkling the soft red silk of her dress.

“In case I forget to tell you,” he whispered against her neck, “you look gorgeous.”

She smiled effortlessly. “You’ve already said that. Numerous times, actually.”

“Wanted to make sure you knew. I’ll be the envy of all the men who lay eyes on you tonight, I imagine.”

This time she laughed. “Good to know. And it’s good for you to know that you’re the only one of them who can catch—and keep—my attention.” She turned, circling her arms around his neck, and gave him a soft kiss. She both hated and loved how he always knew the right things to say.

Just like he had back in their hotel room when she’d been conflicted about what to do about him. But with a few words and a devastating kiss, he’d made her see that she could still be
her
and still be with him. It would be hard, but she could do it. And with him helping her along, how could she go wrong? So long as he didn’t love, she didn’t love, it was simple as that.

“Ready to party?” he asked, drawing away and interlacing their fingers.

Chuckling, she nodded and allowed Quinn to lead her into the Undertakers’ Ball.

The lights were low, making a shadowy and grim setting through the space. Twinkle lights flickered overhead, creating a glow against ghastly silver and black decorations. Real-life caskets sat about strangely situated black leather furniture all around the edges of the room. Urns littered the boundaries of where they should walk, and ghostly lampposts stood tall but unlit. And headstones protruded from the corners of the dance floor. It was Halloween gone wrong.

“Cheery,” Quinn commented, tugging her closer.

“I hate when they use this theme for the ball. Makes everything we do seem so dark.”

Quinn’s eyebrow rose at that statement. “You know, I recall you saying you hated being called an undertaker.”

“True.”

“Since you don’t like it, I imagine others in your profession don’t as well. Why would they choose this as a theme?”

“Comic relief?” Shrugging, she pushed past a crowd of people she vaguely remembered meeting earlier that day and headed for the food table. “Some people poke fun at the very essence of our job.”

“Sounds like those people are trying to
have
fun.”

She stopped at the moss-covered table, ignoring the mist rising from under it. “Are you trying to make a point?” Dipping out a cup of murky purple stuff, she turned to face him. He had a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Don’t I always?”

Snorting, she downed the entire glass. It tasted fruity—which was way better than how it looked. “Yes, too much, if you ask me.”

His face grew serious. “Would you like me to stop?’

“That would make you
not you,
which is something we are trying to avoid, no?”

His grin was quick. “You catch on fast, Piper.” He captured her with kiss. Everything around her melted away, and she suddenly didn’t want to be at the ball. She wanted to be in the softness of the sheets with Quinn’s strong arms around her. Loving her as he always did.

She shook her head from that thought. Tonight she was going to try to be normal.
Her
version of normal. Doing what she did best and all that. She could do it.

She caught Mitch’s eye from the other side of room. He waved before excusing himself from the conversation he’d been having and made a beeline for her and Quinn.

“Ah,” he said, stepping in front of her, “I see you had a change of heart.” His gaze flicked to Quinn then to Piper. Then to Piper’s dress. “Whoa.”

Piper blushed. “I know.”

“You look wonderful, Piper.”

Quinn’s arm wound possessively around her waist and tugged her close. “Doesn’t she though?” he said, his voice that smooth timbre.

Mitch’s expression gleamed. “That she does. I’d like you to meet someone.” Mitch weaved between a crowd of people next to them, reappearing a few moments later with a young and handsome blond man at his side. “This is my partner, Paul. Paul, this is a dear old friend of mine, Piper.”

Paul’s hand shot out at the same time he flashed a million-watt grin. “Wonderful to meet you, Piper. Mitch talks about you all the time.”

Piper’s cheeks heated, wondering what on earth Mitch could say about her. She held out her hand. Paul took it with an eager expression, lightly lifting her fingers to his lips. A kiss, quick and sweet, was placed on her hand.

Piper felt Quinn tense next to her. She wanted to spin around and roll her eyes at time, but instead only chuckled to herself. Quinn was even jealous of a gay man. Then again, Quinn had used the word
envious.
She didn’t know if she should be flattered or terrified. Right now she was only amused.

“How long have you two known each other?” she asked, dropping her hand to her side when Paul released it.

“One year,” Mitch answered.

“Almost to the day,” Paul offered.

Piper did the math in her head. “Did you two meet at last year’s conference?”

“Yes,” they answered in unison, their eyes locking. Paul was simply beaming, and Mitch was grinning so wide Piper thought he might split his face in two. Then she caught it, a flicker of love crossed Mitch’s eyes. A softness and caring that she’d never seen before in him. Paul had the same look: love and deep devotion. It was right there, in nothing more than an expression.

Smiling that her old friend had found something that made him happy, her gaze swept to Quinn. Her breath hitched when she noticed how intently he was staring at her. And he was giving her that exact same look Mitch and Paul were giving each other. Gentle, full of longing and need with an unspeakable adoration, all wrapped up into one. A smile tilted his mouth. His expression got even more intense. Something twitched in her own chest, and she instantly felt the urge to run for the hills.

“I was just telling Paul how much I loved seeing you with Quinn here, Piper,” Mitch said, snapping Piper’s attention back to the men.

“What?”

“Quinn was introduced as your boyfriend, right? I could tell he was much more than that from first glance, even without the introduction.” A mischievous smile lit his face. “I told Paul, the other day, how you’ve been single most of your adult life and how I was worried this job was going to make a true undertaker out of you. All old and scary and sad.”

The two men erupted in laughter. Piper, on other hand, did not. She knew her friend was trying to be funny. And she knew he didn’t mean to upset her, but something about what he said did.

Quinn, once again, came to her rescue. He stroked the back of her arm as he spoke. “Speaking of undertakers, tell me, Mitch, since you’re the organizer of this little soirée, why did you pick this theme? Piper doesn’t like that particular term, and according to her, some of the others don’t either.”

Mitch’s expression remained amused. “That’s the thing, Quinn. Sometimes you have to let the serious things slide. Like the name ‘undertaker.’
It’s such a harsh word, wouldn’t you agree? It gives certain image.”

“Uh-huh,” Quinn agreed, still continuing his maddening slow strokes up and down Piper’s skin.

“We can’t take ourselves that seriously, obviously. Some of us do.” Mitch cast a concerned look toward Piper. “It’s those people, I think, that don’t like the term the most.”

Piper’s blood began to boil. Not because she was upset at Mitch for what he said. Because after all, Piper realized, he was speaking nothing but the truth. And from the look in his eyes, he was truly uneasy about how Piper felt about the whole definition thing.

Piper finally found her voice, needing to say
something.
“You’re absolutely right, Mitch.” She plastered a smile on her face; no one—except maybe Quinn—would even realize it was fake. “This job makes us hard in some ways. Uncaring, if you will. I’ll admit that this job has made me a less-than-stellar person.”

Three sets of eyes grew wide, and Piper kept on talking. “But not because I’m hard and uncaring. Don’t get me wrong, in some ways, I am, but it is those things that make us who we are and, more importantly, give use what we need to succeed. I, for one, know I wouldn’t be as successful as I am today had I not taken my father’s business seriously. It is that seriousness that people mistake for something else.” Her voice ended on a sharp note, making Quinn stiffen at her side.

Mitch’s eyes danced from Piper to Quinn and back again. Then he swung his arm around Paul, shooting Quinn the brightest smile. “Looks like you’ve brought Piper to life, Quinn. Simply amazing.”

Quinn shook his head. “I can’t take the credit for Piper being a remarkable person. But I do think it’ll take the right person for
her
to see it.”

Piper huffed out a breath. “I’m right here, you know.”

The men all chuckled. Piper’s nerves stretched tighter. Obviously sensing her distress, Quinn leaned in and whispered in her ear. “We’re paying you the utmost compliment, Piper. You are remarkable, and everyone wants you to see if for yourself. And for the record, Mitch wasn’t saying there was anything wrong with you, but only that he cares about and is obviously worried for you.”

“But why—” The words were lost on Piper’s lips. She didn’t really know what she was going to say, besides argue about what she’d heard. Was she really so disconnected from people that she couldn’t understand such a compliment? Or see how Mitch was trying to show his concern about her and their profession? Could she really even talk to people? Like she talked to Quinn? Suddenly she wondered if Quinn was the only one she ever really talked to. Her hand flew to her face as she realized that yes, he was.

Mother of chocolate.

“Piper?” Mitch’s voice swam into her senses. “Are you all right? You’ve suddenly gone pale.”

“Yes. Yes.” Another smile, tighter, more determined. “Quinn and I missed dinner. I was…sleeping.”

Mitch’s brow rose. “Sleeping?”

Quinn laughed. “She really was sleeping. All the action today wore her out.”

Mitch’s amusement at Quinn’s words made Piper squirm. She really had been sleeping. After having the breakdown, of course.

“You should eat something,” Quinn said to her. “I should have made sure you ate before we came. I’m sorry.”

She glanced at him, and there it was…the undying expression of concern. That small glimmer of…sweet chocolate, she couldn’t even say the word.

“I’m fine, really,” she said. “I’ll eat before we call it a night. Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Deal.”

A hand shot in between Piper and Quinn.

“May I have this dance?” The voice, confident and cool drew Piper’s attention from Quinn to the owner of the hand.

Gavin.
Piper spun about to face him. Quinn’s body tensed to full concrete mode behind her. His hands gripped her waist.

“I’m afraid I’m not up for dancing, Gavin,” Piper answered in her most sincere voice. “Thank you, though.”

Gavin’s gaze darted from Piper to Quinn. “Who’s this?” he asked.

Quinn’s hand lifted. “Macy Quinn Oliver,” he said, calmer and more securely than she would have given him credit for. “Piper’s boyfriend.”

Those two words were said so succinctly, Piper flinched.

Gavin’s attention flicked back to Piper. “Well, this is him, is it?” A smile lit his handsome face as his hand landed in Quinn’s. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Macy. Piper’s said very little about you, but when she did, her words were positive.”

“Were they now?” Quinn dropped his hand back to Piper’s waist, giving it another, tighter squeeze. “And please, call me Quinn.”

Gavin stepped closer to her. Too close for comfort. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Gavin. If it weren’t for Quinn, he’d be the type of man she’d start a little fling with. He’d be the easy kind. And now that she’d recently learned that no one in her career field was like her, Gavin would be the wonderful exception to that. He
truly
felt the same way about relationships and love as Piper did. She suddenly craved that…but not him. It was strange combination.

He leaned in. “One dance? You owe me that much for helping you clean up the mess in your basement.”

Sweet peas. This man had seen her at her worst. Frowning, Piper slid her hand into the one he held out. “Just one.”

His eyes glimmered under the twinkle lights as his thumb stroked over her wrist. His gaze flitted to Quinn. “I’ll bring your girl right back.”

Quinn’s grip loosened, only slightly. Piper gave him a sad nod, needing him to know that this was okay. She was with him. But she was polite, and Gavin had helped her. She owed him a dance. A simple, innocent dance. And being away from Mitch, Paul, and Quinn wouldn’t hurt her for a minute. She’d been struggling with them long enough this evening.

One dance. Then she was calling an end to her evening.

Quinn’s eyes pleaded silently to her, making her chest go tight when he finally let go, allowing Gavin to drag her several yards away.