Quinn landed his Sukhoi Su-31M—nicknamed Dauntless—on a stretch of black airfield. After checking the gauges, powering down, and unstrapping himself, he popped the latch, ripped off his headgear and hopped down. His brother was waiting for him.
“That was awesome!” KC smacked his shoulder. “Grandpa’s gonna love it.”
Quinn grimaced. “He sure will if you manage to not clip my tail on the dog-dive.”
KC laughed. “I wasn’t close to you.”
“The downwind bump proved otherwise.” He unzipped his flight suit and shrugged it off his shoulders. Wrapping it around his waist, he tied it with the sleeves and meandered, KC still in tow, across the airstrip.
“There was no bump, and you know it.” KC nailed him a good punch in the arm. “I’d say your thoughts were elsewhere instead of in the sky.”
Quinn blew out a loud breath. “Piper’s coming over tonight.”
KC’s grin was lightning fast. “You’re bringing her to game night? Are you nuts? She’ll think we’re all crazy by the time the night’s through.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Then why not go somewhere else?”
Quinn leveled a serious look at his brother. “Are you serious? Miss a game night? Never. I’d never be forgiven.”
KC gave him a duh look. “Then why not go out with her another night?”
“Because if I’d waited, she might not have. I had to act.”
KC whistled. “Oh, one of those things.”
“Don’t be such a pain. Piper’s complicated.”
“I guess.”
Quinn gazed back at the airstrip, to his cherry-red plane and then to his brother’s bright blue one. It was a shame that Del’s white plane wasn’t lined up with them. But they still could manage a good show without him. “Can the crew take care of the after-flight checks? I’ve got to pick Piper up, and I’d like to clean up a bit first.”
“Sure thing. And you really did well up there today, Quinn.”
“Thanks. And please, watch the tailspin tomorrow, would ya? I’d rather not go face-first into the ground.”
KC chuckled. “You got it.”
Quinn deposited his flight suit in the hangar and made quick time getting home, showered, and over to Piper’s. He was a little early, but early was better than late. At the front door of the funeral home, he rapped and waited. When she didn’t answer after a few minutes, he knocked harder and waited.
Hmm…maybe she was still getting ready. After the third try with no answer, Quinn got concerned. He checked the doorknob and found it unlocked. He stepped in, gave the room a quick sweep with his eyes, and found everything as it should be.
“Piper?”
No answer.
His eyes danced up the staircase, making him wonder if he should dare to step onto her personal territory. He knew she lived up there; all he had to do was walk up the steps. After calling out her name once more without an answer, he risked it.
His shoes clicked on the wooden stairs as he ascended. Once at the top he found a short hallway leading to a single door. Piper’s door. Taking a settling breath, he crossed to it and knocked.
Again, there was no answer. He was not about to bust down her door, so instead he yanked his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed the number to the funeral home. Piper would answer, she always answered after-hours.
“Downing and Sons Funeral Home, this is Piper. How can I help you this evening?” Her voice was distant, strained, not at all like Piper.
“Are you all right?”
“Quinn?”
“Yes. Are you home? I’m standing outside your door. I’ve been knocking, and I was worried because you didn’t answer.”
“Oh. Uh, it’s unlocked. Please come in.”
She hung up.
Confused and still very much concerned, Quinn did as he was instructed and twisted the knob. With a little squeak, the door swung open easily. His eyes swept over this space, too, but didn’t really see it; he was worried about Piper. He saw her hunched over the back of the couch, staring aimlessly at a brown box sitting on her tiny glass coffee table. She glanced at him quickly, then back at the box. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face twisted with agony.
He dropped rushed to her, and collected her into his arms.
“Oh my God, Piper, what’s wrong?” He kissed her hair, taking a deep breath of her coconut shampoo.
“I’m so sorry, Quinn.” She buried her face into his shoulder. “I didn’t forget about you. I…couldn’t pull myself together in time.”
“It’s okay. Shh.” He stroked her back, her arms, and tugged her closer. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I can be ready in a second. Just give me a second.”
He didn’t let her go. “How long have you been like this?”
“Too long.” Her arms curled around him. “It’s good to see you.” She drew away, her reddened eyes like a punch to his gut.
“We don’t have to do this tonight if you’re not up to it.”
She sniffled and straightened her shoulders. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.”
Quinn didn’t believe her. There was hollowness to her gaze as it drifted back to the box on the table.
“Where did that come from?” he asked.
“The dumpster.”
“What’s in it?”
“Nothing important.”
He wanted to ask a million more questions, but said nothing. Instead, he gave Piper another comforting hug and relished in the way she fit so perfectly against him. He would make her smile before the night was through. He would make her laugh. He would wipe away whatever did this to her.
“Give me two minutes and I’ll be ready.”
“You look beautiful to me.”
Pink rose into her cheeks. “Two minutes.”
He let her go, and she scurried to a doorway along the back wall. He guessed it was her bedroom. When the door clicked shut behind her, he focused his attention on the box. It said Piper’s name on the side in faded black marker. It looked a little worse for wear, but he could tell where someone had tried to clean it up. The four sides were folded across to the top, sealing it shut, but Quinn could make out a fuzzy little gray thing poking out of the middle hole.
He wondered…
“Ready?” Piper’s voice from behind him jolted him back to reality.
“I’m always ready for you.”
Another blush swam into her cheeks, this time darker.
“But are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, still worried. “Game night with the Olivers? It’s intense.”
Her eyes flitted to the box. “I can handle intense.”
He frowned, but his mood settled a bit. “I’ll have to trust your word. Games start at eight—on the dot—which means we have exactly one hour to grab a bite to eat. What do you feel like?”
“Something very unhealthy.”
He took her by the elbow and led her out the door. “Oh, I think we can do that. Anything for the lady.”
<<<<>>>>>
Quinn settled on Pico’s Taco Bar. It was messy, it was unhealthy, and the atmosphere was hopping with Spanish music and bright colors. Exactly what Piper needed. They were seated in a corner booth, and their plates were loaded to the max.
“This good enough for you?” he asked, delighted when she scooped up a big dollop of sour cream and plunked it down on her mile-high nachos.
“This hits the spot. Thank you.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She gracefully snapped a loaded nacho in half and placed it in her mouth. To her credit, she didn’t get a dribble of anything on her. Except a little smear of cheese on the corner of her mouth. Quinn had the urge to wipe it away for her, but thought better of it after her eyes went distant at his question.
She shrugged, chewing carefully, and then swallowing. “Only if you want to hear about my breakdown.”
“I doubt it was a breakdown, Piper. Everyone is entitled
to have some emotions about…something.”
“Yeah.” She heaved another nacho into her mouth. “Something.”
“Okay then, we won’t talk about it.” He scooped up a spoonful of beans.
Piper looked at him. Like really looked at him. The distance in her eyes was gone, and so was the soft look he loved about her. She flicked the topping off a nacho and waved it at him.
“Okay, this might seem to come out of nowhere,” she said, “but are you and I, like, officially dating?”
Quinn choked on his beans. After a few coughs, he replied, “Well, we went on one date—which I thoroughly enjoyed. I’m still wondering if you did, too.” He eyed her carefully. “Did you?”
She snatched up a spoon and jabbed it into her pile of nachos. “Yes. I think I mentioned that.”
“I remember you saying you went on the date expecting not to go on a second, but then changed your mind.” He eased forward, dipping his head so she would look at him. “Why did you change your mind?”
Her gaze fixed on him. “Because everything about the date was unexpected.”
Well, if that wasn’t vague. “I hope that’s good.”
Her lip twitched, but Quinn could tell she was holding back a smile. “It was a lot of things,” she said. “Good was one of them. So are we officially…dating?”
The corners of his mouth curled. “I’d say so. Even though it took us a while to get reconnected after that first day, we apparently had some issues over basic communication to figure out.” He chuckled, thinking how hard it was to get Piper back here, with him.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was thinking about our conversation earlier today. You really aren’t sure what we’re doing, are you?”
Her bottom lip drew into her mouth. “Honestly, I thought I did. I mean, I date, I know how it works. But I’ve never dated anyone like you, and it’s frustrating.”
Quinn sat back, confused. He took a drink of tea before trying to get the conversation back to more comfortable water. “Tell me what you want, Piper.”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?” A rolling feeling twisted his stomach.
“I did know. I’ve always known what I’ve wanted.” Her spoon clanked to the table. “In life and in the men I date. That’s where you’re different, Quinn. You’re not like the kind of men I date, and it’s terrifying.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
Piper tossed her head back and laughed. And even though she was laughing at him, it was a beautiful sound, sending waves of sensation to all the right places. And Quinn couldn’t help but notice the sweeping curve of her neck, the wonderful tone of her skin, and his fingers itched to touch it, his lips on fire to taste.
“So then there is something wrong with me,” Quinn murmured, his ego busted before it even had a chance to be stroked.
Piper straightened, leveling her stare at him. “No. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. From what I can see, you’re everything a woman would dream of. That is the problem.”
His brow drew together. “I don’t understand.”
She shook her head and cast him a comforting smile. “I’m trying to be honest here, and you’re making it difficult.”
“I’m sorry. I just want to understand what’s going on between us. What you want, what you need, and how to make this work. Because one thing is certain, Piper: I want you.”
Her eyes flickered briefly, and then she gave him a hesitant smile.
He leaned in, snatched her hand into his. “So to make it official, Piper, we are dating.”
“Monogamous dating, then?”
“That’s the only kind to me.”
She eased back, taking her hand from his and blew out a breath. “Okay then, that’s settled.”
“Yes.” He was back on edge, wondering where Piper was going with this. “So we are dating. Monogamously.”
“Yes.”
Was it him or did Piper sound not-so-convinced? He took another bite, thought about how he’d seen her earlier. He laced his hands together above his plate. “I’m sorry about whatever happened to you today, Piper, but please know that I’m here to listen. I have a feeling that whatever happened has something to do with me.”
She cast her gaze away, making him wonder what she was hiding. He itched to comfort her again. He needed to take away whatever pain she had. He needed to understand her. Badly.
“We’ve already covered the bases,” he continued. “We like each other. We’re here…together. And from what I’ve gathered about how we interact, I imagine that our relationship will at some point become physical. And like you said on our first date, there’s nothing more than that if you don’t want it. But please, talk to me,” he pleaded.
She blinked and twisted her napkin around her fingers. “Gavin was by the funeral home earlier today.”
Ah, so it was the man Quinn had thought Piper was dating. Why did that not surprise him?
“What happened?”
“Well, we had an appointment to clear out some of the old stuff in the storage room. I haven’t touched most of it since…since my dad passed away. And having to go through it really set me off. Made me think about things I didn’t want to think about. And there was this stupid box.” She was on a roll now, her knuckles growing whiter with each twist of the napkin. “A box of my things that my dad, for some stupid reason, had hidden amongst his supplies.”
“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.”
Until Next Time Page 13