Until Next Time

by Dell, Justine

  She watched him go. Heard the door shut behind him. Several long moments passed before Piper finally thought her heart started beating again.

  <<<<>>>>>

  Quinn, normally a reserved man, felt strangely confident as he cruised down the steps of the funeral home. The look in Piper’s eyes when she’d opened the box was far more than he’d expected. He’d actually surprised her. And when she’d laughed—God—what an amazing sound. Her professional exterior had slid away for the briefest of moments, allowing him to see the spark that lay beneath. A spark he found a deep need to kindle even more.

  He stopped short, remembering that he’d brought something else over for Piper as well. He turned about and headed back up the steps.

  He didn’t knock this time. He waltzed right in, stopping as soon as he saw Piper. She and Jessica stood dead center in the foyer, their backs to him. Clutched tightly in her hands were the cookie, a notable size chunk missing, and the book he’d given her. They were mumbling about something. Probably his gifts.

  “God, this cookie is so good.” Piper’s voice was soft, sweet. She followed up that comment with a few good low moans. God. Quinn, could picture her making those same noises at night. In the dark. With him. Which was a completely inappropriate thought to have at that moment.

  He cleared his throat, and both girls swung around. Piper’s eyes went wide, her cheeks flush. Jessica only smiled mischievously. Piper’s gaze swung from Quinn to Jessica and back again. She did that a lot. He wondered if she had a hard time focusing on him. Did she really have a need to divert her eyes—her attention—to something else each time he was around? And if so, why?

  “Sorry to interrupt, Piper.” He crossed the room and stopped in front of her. “I wanted to make sure I gave you the information regarding the foundation…in case you needed for anything.”

  Piper swallowed her mouthful of cookie. Quinn wanted to chuckle. “Good. Thank you. I was going to call you about it.”

  He held out a black folder, which she took after setting the Mortuary Confidential book on the reception desk. “All the information is in there. There’s one simple form for someone to fill out to get help.”

  “Okay. Okay. I’ll be sure to bring this wonderful cause to any needy client’s attention.”

  “Wonderful.” He leaned in, enjoying the surprise on her face when he placed yet another gentle kiss on her cheek. “I’m looking forward to Friday. See you then,” he whispered.

  “Yes,” she responded. It suddenly sounded like she was out of breath. He eased back, glancing down at the cookie that was crumbling beneath her tight grip.

  “Bye, Piper.”

  Quinn left her standing in the foyer, mouth open, and continued to grin as he bounded out to his car. There truly was something innocent about Piper. Something that her stunned facial expressions hid. Something that her fidgety body movements hinted at. Yes, there was something amazing about Piper. Quinn could hardly wait to get to know her better.

  <<<<>>>>>

  Piper finished up with Mr. Ryan, amazed at the grieving man’s change in demeanor after she had given him the information about Quinn’s foundation. Instead of being sad, the aging man was hopeful, blissfully so. Instead of having to settle for something he knew he and his late wife didn’t want, he was given the opportunity to show her love, even in death.

  Piper allowed herself a small smile as she returned to the funeral home from escorting Mr. Ryan back to his car. It was amazing what little acts of generosity could do. And Quinn had given Mr. Ryan a lot of generosity.

  Her brow furrowed as she stepped back into her office, filing away the details of Mrs. Ryan’s funeral. She suddenly realized that she didn’t know anything about Quinn’s family. How was it they managed to create a fund that paid for funerals? And what kind of a family did that kind of thing? She brushed a wild hair from her eye. The kind of family that celebrated death, she imagined. She would really like to know the family’s philosophy behind death Quinn had spoken about briefly. She’d have the chance to ask him in less than twenty-four hours. Her heart kicked up a notch. That was when her date was.

  Shaking off the unnerving feeling, Piper made her way down to the bowels of the funeral home. She’d had two intakes the night before and two funerals later that day. Her work never stopped. Margo, her other embalmer, only worked the evening shift. She could pick up bodies, but Piper preferred to handle all the phone calls herself. Once in the preparation room, she acted on autopilot, fashioning a middle-aged woman in a crisp pink suit and touching up her afterlife makeup one more time. She then prepared a teenager in what looked to be his most comfortable clothes: a basketball T-shirt and jeans. Glancing at her wristwatch, she realized she’d have to wait another hour until Margo arrived before they could place the deceased in their respective caskets. Piper couldn’t do it alone.

  Both families had insisted on no visitation prior to the service, which meant Piper didn’t need to move the bodies to their eternal homes until the night before their funeral service. Piper didn’t question their judgment. It was after all, the living’s decision as to what respects to pay their loved ones. And how.

  That thought made her mind drift back to Quinn. For the first time in her life, she found herself enthralled to learn more about the grieving process—theirs in particular. Normally she detached herself from that as much as possible. She offered and gave what was needed to the clients, but always remained detached, herself. It was how she was able to handle the teenage boy on her preparation table. And the middle-aged housewife who had left behind three small children. Thinking about their lives—their deaths—would prohibit her from focusing. If she allowed herself to be crippled with grief each and every time she saw death, Piper would have crumbled long ago. And yet, watching Quinn’s family almost triumph in death made her wonder things she’d never wondered about before. An image of Quinn’s bright eyes flashed across her vision. What was it about him that made her palms twitch?

  Maneuvering around the two people who were ready, Piper headed to the embalming room. Within minutes she had put on her plastic apron and gloves, and was flipping through the intake files she’d received from the county morgue.

  Mr. Fitzgerald, a fifty-year-old man who died in car crash, lay on her left. His twenty-year-old daughter, who perished in the same crash, lay on her right. Piper cringed as she flipped through the pages. She hadn’t recalled a great deal of information from the foggy two a.m. phone call or the subsequent visit to the morgue, but going over the details in black and white made her stomach roll. For the first time in a long time.

  They’d been on their way to the daughter’s wedding. The mother survived, along with one sister. They’d escaped the tragedy with only scrapes and bruises. Piper was amazed at the selfishness of love—and death. Pushing away the unwanted feelings that crept up out of nowhere, Piper methodically did what she had to do.

  She washed and dried the bodies. Stroking the bride’s hair a few times more than necessary. Like a robot she hooked them up to the tubes and drains, filling their now-leathery skin with embalming fluid. Like every other day. She glued the eyes and mouth closed, noticing a slight lift in the bride’s lip. Almost like she had been smiling. Piper shook off that image and concentrated. Once done, she washed and dried them again. She applied a special lotion to their skin, one that gave them the appearance of being more alive. Satisfied with her work, she put the body’s side-by-side in the cooling chamber, where Piper imagined they would stay until the wife and mother of the deceased was well enough to make arrangements. She wanted a funeral, but weren’t yet able to handle to details. What a terrible tragedy. And yet, Piper knew the family would survive, no matter how hard it would be. They always did.

  Her thoughts slid back to Quinn. And how his family survived. How they connected. How they didn’t allow death to cripple them. And how Quinn had so easily made a difference in the life of someone else who had lost a loved one. There was something particularly intriguing about that fam
ily. Something particularly intriguing about Quinn. She had never wanted to sit down with a man—one that made her hot from the inside out—and actually learn more about him. Learning about a man made her care more than she should. More than she needed to. But there was tightness in her gut that told her she didn’t have a choice regarding getting to know Quinn. It was something she had to do.

  “Busy night?”

  Margo’s voice made Piper practically jump out of her flats. When had she become so distracted? Oh. Right. Quinn.

  Piper closed the door to the cooling chamber and stripped off her apron and gloves. “You could say that. I’ve got two on tap and two ready to go. Would you help me put them their coffins?”

  Margo frowned. “You already prepared the two from last night?”

  “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I need to get my mind off something and that always helps.” Although the very notion would sound ridiculous to most people. But it was easy not to think about things when you were so focused on your work. Even though every time she’d taken a breath, she’d remembered Quinn’s scent. His smile. His eyes. Focus. “Glad to see you didn’t come in this morning with your gothic war paint on.”

  A laughed echoed through the tiled room. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I meant to get of here before anyone saw me. But then Jessica needed to leave early and…” She waved a hand over herself. “You got me.”

  Piper grinned. “It’s okay. I imagine you’d have scared away any customers, and since you didn’t, all is forgiven.” She tightened her bun. “And I appreciate you covering for Jessica. Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” Margo glanced around. “Now what am I supposed to do all evening since you did my job for me?”

  Piper eyed the cabinet full of restoration items.

  “Oh.” Margo padded over to it. “Want me to clean this up?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind. We’ve got a new rep coming next week, and I don’t want to look like a total schlep.” Even though Piper would admit to being the one who had made the cabinet a total mess in the first place. The people on her tables were more important than knowing where the reconstructive paste was at any given time.

  “I hope the new rep is nicer than the last one,” Margo said. “He was a total pain in the a—”

  “Yes, he was.” Piper handed Margo the list of cataloged supplies. “This is what we should have in the pile. They’re listed by date. Could you make sure they’re accounted for?”

  “Yeah.” The cabinet door fell open, spilling containers all across the floor.

  “Sorry about that.”

  Margo waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. You go take care of business.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” She turned to go. “Oh, you do have a body pickup at Carmichael’s any time after six.”

  “Good, then the evening won’t be shot.”

  Piper inwardly cringed at the unintended pun. The body Margo was going to pick up had been a hunting accident. “No, it won’t.”

  After getting the people in their respective coffins, Piper headed upstairs to prepare for the upcoming funerals. Her work was never truly done. It required twenty-four hours of her time. Whenever the phone rang, she answered it. Whenever someone needed a shoulder, she offered one. Which made her stop and think. She’d never minded a date with a male friend being interrupted before. Suddenly she didn’t want anything to interrupt her night with Quinn.

  Groaning at her own ludicrous thought, she rearranged flowers in the chapel room. Interruptions would be exactly what she needed Friday night to keep her head on straight. Quinn’s quiet seductive charm might well be enough to crack through the tough shell Piper had spent so long building. Her stomach flipped. That man was going to give her fits before it was all said and done. She should have said no to the date. Flat-out no.

  There was no way around it now, though. But she had to be straight with Quinn. Getting serious with her wasn’t going to happen. Although she wouldn’t mind a roll in the sheets. No. Even that wouldn’t be a good idea with Quinn. She already knew she couldn’t resist the pull of his depthless eyes. The wonder of his light hair. The intensity of his unnerving, sexy smile. And his ability to break through and see some brighter side of death. That’s why she’d said yes in the first place. She knew a dangerous pull when she felt one. And that pull would lead to a large cliff and a hard splat. Not a place she was prepared to go. Not now. Not ever.

  Chapter Six

  Twenty-four hours later Piper paced the foyer of the funeral home like someone going through withdrawal. She’d had very little sleep the night before—from both work interruptions in the middle of the night and her own mind racing with thoughts of Quinn. Her nerves were twitchy. Like a silly teenager on her first Friday night date. It was Friday, but she definitely wasn’t a teenager. Piper had dated. A lot. So what was her problem tonight?

  “You’re going to wear holes through the bottom of your flats,” Jessica said wryly.

  Piper stopped short and playfully glared at her young secretary. “Thanks for the memo.”

  “It’s only a date, Piper. It’s not like a blind date. You like him, he likes you. What’s got you so riled up?”

  She dragged a hand through her wild hair. Hair that she had decided to not put up in one of her perfect buns. So now instead of being neat and clean, it was all poufy and curly around her face and shoulders. “Nothing,” Piper grumbled. “Long night. And truthfully, I didn’t really want to go out with Quinn anyway. I was being nice.”

  Jessica’s thin brow rose. “Really?”

  “Well, something like that.”

  “Ah, I see.” Jessica’s lips curled. “I’ve got to run down to the storage room to get some files. If you’re gone when I get back…” Those eyebrows wiggled. “Have fun.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Piper glared at the doorway. She could go out on one date. And after today there would be no more. Period.

  Someone rapped on the door. Why did he always knock? After taking the deepest breath she’d ever taken and roughly blowing it out, Piper swung the door wide, her eyes instantly glued to the man beyond the threshold. His gaze skittered down to her toes and back, locking on her face. His magnetic eyes sparkled.

  “You look wonderful,” he said.

  She looked comfortable was more like it. Wild hair, silky yellow summer dress, practical flats. It was a hundred degrees outside, after all.

  She blushed anyway. “Thank you. You, too.” And he did. Some men were made to wear jeans, and Quinn was one of them. Fitting in all the right spots, loose in all the others, hanging perfectly on his lean waist. Today his shirt was white, crisp as though it was brand-new. Her insides did a little jig. He clutched a single white rose in his hand. Piper frowned.

  Without saying a word, Quinn reached into his back pocket, pulled out a little pocketknife and sliced the head of the rose right off. It bounced to the porch, leaving only a sad thorny stem behind.

  He held it up for her, his eyes shimmering. “This is for you.”

  Piper took the long stem without hesitation. He was good. She had to give him that.

  His elbow shot out. “Ready to go?”

  She nodded, lacing her arm into the curve of his elbow. Fire erupted where their skin touched. If Quinn felt the flame, he didn’t let it show on his face. His eyes were trained ahead, his steps to the car controlled and easy. Maybe it was her after all.

  Which meant, if she could control herself, this date would be quick and painless—like ripping off a Band-Aid. Actually, Band-Aids stung. And if the erratic beats of her heart were anything to judge, then saying no to Quinn if he asked her out again would be like ripping of a giant one.

  She hadn’t even gotten through her first date yet and she couldn’t stop thinking about how to stop a second. Cheese and crackers, she was in trouble.

  <<<<>>>>>

  Piper looked perfect. That was all Quinn could think about as he drove along the oak-lined streets through the countryside. From the sundress that perfectly complimented the color of her
skin. To her hair that had him itching to run his fingers through it. The curls swooped, flowed halfway down her back and screamed touch me. He couldn’t imagine why she wore her hair up all the time. It was simply stunning and nearly took his breath away when she’d open the door.

  Every now and again his gaze swung to her. She clutched the single stem with both hands, her eyes intently focused forward. He wanted to talk. He wanted to say a lot of things. But even though she looked the part of being on a date, she wasn’t fully committed. Her eyes had given it away the moment they’d locked with his. Beneath those nutmeg depths, Quinn had seen the unmistakable uncertainty floating around. Her posture as she’d walked to the car had been stiff, her hands fidgety. Which was why he wasn’t pressing her for conversation. Why he hadn’t reached across the console to lace his fingers with hers. A thought that had him clenching his teeth. Her hands would be warm, soft.

  She was attracted to him. Quinn had seen it from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. He felt the same way. But Quinn also saw her fighting it. Which each sharp intake of her breath when he was near, each step in the opposite direction of him, each time her gaze refused to stay focused on him. The attraction was there, but she was fighting it every chance she got. The question was why? He ached to have Piper’s full attention. His hands burned to touch her. His lips tingled to kiss her. Okay, maybe that was a little premature considering, but a guy could hope. The only question was, would she unfreeze long enough to give him a chance?

  Quinn turned from the street onto a narrow paved road flanked by tall limestone walls. He heard Piper’s breath quicken.

  “A graveyard?” Her head whipped around at the surroundings.

  Once past the gate, old tall headstones jutted up from the ground, marking the final resting spots of hundreds of people. Ancient oak trees fanned out, their limbs looking more like twisted arms, bending and reaching over the graves to protect them. Several mausoleums dotted the horizon, their stained glass doors and windows glittering under the setting sun.