“Oh, sorry,” she said. “I had to think about that one for a minute.”
Quinn’s mother gave her a soft smile. “Don’t worry about it. It’s hard when you’re choosing these silly answers for yourself. I don’t know how anyone can compare themselves to any of these things really.”
“It’d be easy for me,” KC piped in. “Atomic bomb, hands down.”
“I’d have to agree with that,” Sarah added.
Laughter rolled out of Quinn and his father. “That’s no kidding,” Quinn said. “Wasn’t it you who set the neighbor’s cat on fire with the fireworks that one year?”
KC’s face went red. “That was Del…and me, thank you very much.”
“Well, good,” George said. “Two atomic bombs in the family. I’m glad I’ve got my penicillin right here, then.” He patted Quinn on the arm.
Quinn rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because I can fix everything?” He gazed at Piper. “Not as much as you’d think, Grandpa.”
Her cheeks went hot. She glanced at her card on the table. She suddenly didn’t want them to see her answer.
“Flip ’em over,” KC announced.
Piper hesitated, and then complied. Her eyes darted around the table, wondering what everyone else had chosen. Quinn’s mother had picked zipper. She didn’t bother to ask why. Quinn’s father had picked zipper, too. Weird. KC had picked laptop. And Quinn’s grandpa and Sarah had picked zipper as well. What on earth? Her eyes flitted to Quinn’s card. He had picked penicillin.
Her eyes flew up to his. Why had he picked penicillin? But his eyes weren’t on her. His forehead was folded into a deep frown as he looked at her card. Her gaze flicked between his distressed expression, his card, and then back to her card.
“Zipper wins it!” George called out. “That means…” He moved his blue marker across the board. “Yes…I won!”
“Only because you’ve been around the longest and know us all the best,” KC grumbled.
“KC,” Sarah murmured, “it’s only a game. Don’t scare Piper now.”
“Thank you, Sarah,” Quinn’s mom said. “Let’s not scare anyone away.” She gave Piper a comforting look.
“Yeah. Right, only a game…” Marcus added.
They all laughed.
Piper wasn’t listening to the commotion. Quinn had finally focused on her. His normally light eyes were filled with concern, his face still strained with something.
Without saying a word, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “It’s getting late,” he announced. “Thanks for another rousing evening of Oliver Family Game Night.”
Piper barely remembered going through the motions of saying her goodbyes. She barely remembered Quinn helping her into her side of his car. And she could barely contain her unease at his silence on the drive to her home.
Finally, she had to say something. “Why did you pick penicillin?”
The corner of his lip quirked, but his eyes remained on the road. “Because every time I’m around you, you make me feel better.”
Oh.
“Might I ask why you choose robot?” he asked, his gaze still firmly ahead.
Her shoulders lifted and fell. “Robots do the same thing every day. They are the most constant creatures, right? And they don’t have to deal with emotions. Sounds about right to me.”
“I think you’re short-changing yourself there, Piper.”
“No, it’s true.”
“No, it’s not. Otherwise, my family wouldn’t have picked zipper.”
That made her stop short and swivel in her seat to face him. “Why did they pick zipper?”
Another slow grin lifted both sides of his face. “Zippers are easy.”
“Easy?”
“No, no, not like that. They’re simple to navigate and use, and you, Piper, to them, are easy to talk to and navigate.”
“It goes with the funeral director territory.”
“I know. They haven’t seen the side of you I’ve seen. The side you don’t let people see.”
“And what side is that, exactly?”
He pulled into her driveway, slowing the car to a full stop. Once his seat belt and the ignition were off, he turned to face her. “The one with the emotion.”
Her breath hitched at the flash of intimacy in his eyes. Eyes that under the darkness of the moon still glowed with light.
“Which is why you floored with me your robot card,” he added. “I hate that you think your life’s like that. It’s no way to live.”
“It’s the only way I’ve known.”
His fingers brushed her cheek, making her shiver. “For that, I’m sorry.”
Air, she needed air. And fast. With a bustle of movements, she flew out of the car and up her steps. Now there they were, standing on the porch of the funeral home, with Piper shifting awkwardly on both feet, trying to do anything but look at Quinn.
A no-strings-attached relationship is what she’d asked for. It’s what she’d always had. Always. But now, with Quinn at her side, sensations rolling through her chest like a tidal wave, she wondered if anything would be possible with him. Hadn’t she known from the beginning that he could make her feel? Make her think?
The door lock clicked open, and she went to give the door a shove. Quinn’s hand clasped around her arm, his heat pressed into her back.
“May I come in?” he asked.
No. “Yes.”
She ambled through the door, Quinn still a constant presence behind her. His hand fell to the small of her back as she made her way up the stairs, to her door, and finally they crossed the threshold of her apartment.
Her eyes instantly fell onto the stupid box still perched on the coffee table.
“Give me a sec.” She ushered him in, snatched up the box, and tossed it in the bottom of the only storage closet in her apartment—her bedroom one. She would need to permanently dispose of it tomorrow. She still didn’t know why she’d even bothered dragging the darn thing out of the dumpster, anyway.
Rushing back into the small space of the living room, she found Quinn grabbing two glasses out of her kitchen cabinets.
“Thought you could use a drink,” he said, pulling a very old—but unopened—bottle of wine out of the fridge. A client had given her that bottle for Christmas six, no seven, years ago.
With slow movements that had Piper’s eyes skimming over all of Quinn’s parts, he popped the cork and poured two tall glasses. He looked completely at home, shuffling about her tiny kitchen and cleaning up a splash of wine from the counter. Totally not that way she’d pictured him. Then again, he was so at ease everywhere else, why not here?
He’s not like you, Piper.
Right.
“Shall we?” Quinn held up a glass to her, drawing her eyes to his gleaming face. “Sit, I mean?”
“Oh. Sure. Yes. Of course.” She shuffled back, wineglass firmly in hand and led the short way to her yellow canvas couch.
“Your apartment is nice, Piper.” He folded his tall frame onto the soft cushion, making sure to sit right next to her. “I didn’t expect so much color.”
“I get that a lot.”
He chuckled. “I’m not surprised.”
He held up his glass. “Cheers.”
“For what?”
“Us. This.”
“Oh.” She held up her trembling hand, gripping it tighter to keep her nerves at bay. “Yes.”
They clinked and took drinks. Quinn took a slow slip, and Piper chugged hers. The sweet taste didn’t make her want to lose her dinner, so she figured the wine was still okay.
Quinn licked his lower lip, frowning. “How old is that bottle?”
“Seven years…maybe?”
Another laugh, this time the sounded vibrated all of her senses. “I won’t be having any more of that, then.”
“Is it bad?”
“No, not bad as in it’ll hurt you, but the taste is…” He visibly shuddered.
She poked his chest. “Wine gets better with age, right?”<
br />
He grimaced. “Not when it’s five dollar stuff. And not when it’s kept in the fridge.”
“Hey, I wasn’t expecting company. Or a wine connoisseur.”
“I’m definitely not the latter, but I am a sort of company. Don’t you have much company?”
“No reason for it.”
He nodded, concern creeping back into his features. “You don’t have that many close friends, do you?”
“Not really, but I don’t mind. It’s not like I’ve got all the free time in world to take care of those kinds of relationships, you know.”
Quinn swirled the wine around in his glass, studying it. Carefully, he set it on the coffee table and scooted even closer to Piper.
“But you wanted this kind of relationship, right, Piper?”
It was like slow motion. And to Quinn’s discredit, Piper wondered why he’d taken so long to kiss her in the first place. He’d done lots of touching, but she’d itched to have his lips on hers since…well, honestly, that very first day they met. She could admit that to herself now, with his lips so close to hers. And she could stay rational about this whole thing, like every time before.
He cupped her cheek, making her eyes flutter closed. “This, Piper?”
His breath washed over her face, igniting all the sparks she knew he could, since that first moment he’d taken her arm in the funeral home. Something warm swirled in her gut, making her body go liquid and pliant.
“Yes.”
A gentle sweep of his lips across hers. So chaste, yet so incredibly potent. He went deeper, pressing their bodies together, his fingers still stroking her face. Tongues met and molded, creating a zap of heat throughout Piper’s limbs.
Quinn drew away, gradually, his nose pressed to hers. His eyes gleamed with need and mischief. “Tell me why you picked a Volkswagen for me.”
Her head jerked back, caught quickly by Quinn’s hand.
“No, Piper. That’s when our game seemed to take a sad turn for you.”
“I-I don’t—”
“Your face is easier to read than you think.” He kissed her again, quickly, but with as much longing as before. Again she melted. “Tell me,” he whispered.
“You’ll think I’m insane.”
He chuckled against her cheek, sending tingling pulses down the back of her neck. Oh, dear.
“I would never think that.” His movement was lightning fast, gripping her by the hips and flipping her back-down onto the sofa, his lean body hovered over her, his face inches from hers. “I’m waiting.”
“If I tell you, I’ll make myself sound like some lonely old hag who’s desperately searching for that man to sweep her off her feet.”
His head cocked, and his grin widened. “You? Never.”
“And since I’ve already told you that I’m not the sweeping-off-my-feet type—”
“No love,” he murmured, his eyes sharpening.
“Exactly. So then, you see, it was silly of me to say those things about you and Volkswagen.”
“What, that I’m safe and reliable?”
“Yes. Don’t forget secure.”
He nibbled her bottom lip. She inwardly groaned. “Which is what people look for when looking for love, am I right?”
“Yes.”
His finger swept across her forehead, down her cheek, and his eyes never left hers. “I already told you that I agreed to your relationship condition, Piper. You shouldn’t be afraid to say those kinds of things around me.”
Sweet mother of chocolate. He was perfect.
Piper swallowed—hard. It wasn’t that she couldn’t say those things. It was that she was having a very hard time staying within the very perimeters she’d set. She’d been in love once—and only once—and she very well knew the swarm of warmth in her chest. The touch of longing and need. The ache and fear of needing to see him. But love wasn’t all beautiful. She also remembered the digging feeling in her chest. She knew the knotting of her stomach, her heart, and her mind all too well. And she’d be kidding herself if she didn’t see that Quinn had already crossed several of her barriers, opening her up to things she’d given up long ago.
“I’m not,” she lied, completely out of breath. “I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“I didn’t.”
She had to ask or it was going to kill her. “Do you believe in love, Quinn?” It felt like such a strange time to have the conversation, his body horizontal over hers, his heat pressing her into the soft cushions, making her want to wiggle around him.
“Absolutely.”
“So then, this won’t be a problem for you, will it?”
He brought his face closer to hers, continuing with the maddening stroking on the side of her face. “No, because most women believe in love and marriage…the whole shebang. And while I have loved—I do love—marriage for me is out of the question. So you, Piper…” He kissed her again, stealing her breath. “I don’t have to worry about that with you. Without love, there is nothing else for you.”
Her chest tightened. “I believe in marriage, Quinn.”
His body went rigid around her. He drew away, taking his warmth with him. His expression was lost as he raked his fingers through his bouncy hair.
“Okay,” he admitted. “Now I’m fully confused.”
She rose, tucking her legs beneath her as she faced him. “I think two people who love each other should get married,” she stated quietly. “If you’re able to love, the next rational thing is to share that with the Lord, or your family, or whatever.”
Quinn tilted his head, rubbing his face. “Let me get this straight.” He held up a finger. “You believe in marriage, but only if two people are in love?” She nodded. He held up another finger. “Yet you don’t believe in love?” She nodded again, and he held up a third finger. “Which leads me to believe that even though you believe in marriage, you’ll never get married because you’ll never love?”
“You should only share your life with someone you can cherish completely. Love is the only way to do that.” Her voice went quiet. “And I can’t do that.”
There, she’d said it. Out loud. To a man. And it didn’t sound all that crazy. And now that Quinn’s expression was fading from confusion to understanding, she felt better.
“What an astounding creature you are, Piper. Intricate, complex…beautiful.”
Piper couldn’t contain her giggle. “You think I’m beautiful? Now there’s something we need to talk more about.”
His arms wound around her hips, dragging her into his lap. “Oh, I can do that.” His fingers danced up her bare thigh, sweeping under the fabric of her shirt. Piper closed her eyes. “Your eyes and hair are the perfect shade of nutmeg. They perfectly complement the gold undertones of your face. And when you shoot me a bright smile—it’s devastating.”
He stroked his fingers across her ribs while nibbling at her neck. Piper melted.
“Smooth, touchable skin that tastes better than I imagined,” Quinn said.
“Looks aren’t everything,” she panted.
“But there’s so much more to you than that,” he murmured against her ear. He groaned when she shifted in his lap. “Besides your composed and mesmerizing beauty, there’s a softer side—a fragile side—that entices me to get even closer.”
Sweet heaven and strawberry pie, Piper wanted him to get closer. Much closer.
“Quite simply,” Quinn added, “you fascinate me. Every part of me.”
“Funny thing,” she said, pressing herself tighter against him, enjoying the way his face twitched. “You do the same thing to me.”
His fingers bit into her hips, flinging her around, and Piper quickly found herself underneath Quinn again. Hands found skin, and they explored, relished, and kissed until they couldn’t breathe.
Between kisses, he asked, “Bedroom?”
“No need.” Her fingers scrapped along the top edge of the sofa until she found a wooden loop hidden beneath a cushion. She gave it a good yank, and the
top of the sofa flipped back. The repositioning created a now flat, cushy couch, Quinn still nestled comfortably on top of her.
“Handy,” he said.
“I, uh, bought it for company.”
His brow arched. “The company you never have?” His lips found hers against, testing, searching for whatever Piper would give him. And Piper would give him anything right then.
“Something like that.”
Sweet molasses, his kisses were like chocolate. Tasty, dark, melt-in-your-mouth-left-you-wanting-a-thousand-more type chocolate. The forbidden kind that the world had never even tasted yet. Only her. And she wrapped herself around that thought.
Quinn’s hands were deft and quick with the buttons of her dress and his own jeans. Piper’s hands were too busy stroking the firm planes of his chest, his back, and anywhere else she could touch. And with each touch, each stroke, each breath, something erupted between them. Something hot, something wet, something wonderful. With accuracy Piper had never seen, Quinn managed to get her fully undressed—and himself—without batting an eye or barely breaking away from her.
Skin on skin made it all so real. Magical. Zings of pleasure lit up her senses everywhere he touched. Little fires of desire burned her skin wherever he kissed…which was pretty much everywhere. His tongue tasted and teased her breast, her nipple, and Piper could not conceal her groan of pleasure. All while his lips assaulted her front, his hands roamed, tickling under her arm, her hip, her inner thigh.
“Ah, pink,” Quinn mumbled against her skin. “I knew you blushed everywhere, Piper.”
She was lost in his touch, his words, and her own sighs.
His fingers tapped their way down her stomach, coming to a halt at the curls of her sex. “I’ll bet you even blush here,” he whispered against her neck. With a nibble and soft kiss, Piper closed her eyes as Quinn’s fingers slid through the curls, circling around her sensitive button with easy strokes. Maddening, unhurried strokes. She moaned a pathetic sound, needing to suddenly feel him inside her.
Until Next Time Page 15