Until Next Time
Page 18
Renewed and calmer, Piper breezed back to the family who had twisted her oh-so-normal life. First up, she gave George a big hug.
“What a wonderful sight,” she said into his ear. His grip tightened. “You must be so proud of your family.” She drew back, gripping his arms. “Both boys did an amazing job today.”
“My wife would be proud of them, yes.” Tears glistened his darkened eyes. “I’ve got the best grandsons anyone could ask for.”
“And the best sons,” Marcus called out. “Learned from the best.” He chuckled, and to Piper’s ear it sounded more annoying than anything else.
“Thank you for coming,” George said, slipping back down into his chair. “I really wish my wife could have met you.”
She knelt next to him, plastering a smile on her face. “She’s here, Mr. Oliver. And I’m sure she loves what you and your family have done for her today.” Her grin wavered as she spied the airfield in front of them. “A tribute flight was a wonderful idea. Any woman—or man—would be proud. I’m so glad your family let me be a part of it.”
“It was our pleasure, Piper.” His hand founds hers. “You really have touched us since I stumbled onto your doorstep when she passed. From your knowledge, to your comfort, to your simply being here, you truly are an exceptional person.”
“Well…” Piper jumped up, straightening her clothes with an unsteady hand. “I was doing my job, as anyone else would.”
“No.” His eyes fluttered to the sky. “Not many people would come to our home and share in our memory of her like you did after her funeral. That was above and beyond. And with you helping the foundation? It’s perfect. All so perfect, Piper. You came into our lives at a tragic time, but at the right time.”
She was going to be sick if he kept going on and on like this. With an internal flick, Piper clamped down on the emotions slithering through her chest. “Like I said, Mr. Oliver…all in a day’s work.” Another smile, and this time she turned to face Marcus and his wife. She needed them to see a semblance of happiness on her face. Once she pinned down Quinn and got the heck out of this place, she wouldn’t see them again. Ever. So she would leave with them thinking the best of her. The best of Funeral Director Piper.
When she swung about, she found Quinn hunched over by his father, in deep discussion, his flight suit tied around his lean waist. His eyes were pinned on Piper, a prominent frown marring his beautiful face. Cheese and peas, she had to stop thinking like that.
“Quinn,” she acknowledged. Her cheeks were getting sore from her smiling. He nodded, still intently listening to his father chatting in his ear.
“Piper!” KC popped out of nowhere. “What’d you think of the show?”
Piper’s eyes never left Quinn’s when she spoke. “Oh, it was marvelous. You two are so very talented. I’ll bet when Del is around, you three are unstoppable.”
Quinn’s mother gave a hearty laugh.
“Guilty,” KC said. “I heard this was your first show.”
“Yes. And I got an eyeful, all right.” Her hands twisted in front of her.
“You gonna come back when Del can join us?”
“I sure hope she does,” Sarah said, settling herself next to KC. “I think she’d enjoy seeing what the three of you can do together.”
Yeah. Right. Her eyes narrowed at Quinn. “No, I’m afraid not. While what you all do is simply remarkable, I’m afraid my schedule won’t allow this type of thing on a regular basis. I really was shocked that I was able to make it out today.”
“That’s too bad.”
Quinn kept nodding at whatever Marcus was telling him, and his frown deepened.
“No, it’s just as well,” she said, tilting her head a smidge to look at KC who stood on her right. “This was lovely, but I’m afraid my heart can’t take this much excitement.” She made a point to sound thrilled and terrified at the same time. Her hand flew to her chest. “But like I said, you two were amazing.”
KC grinned, eyes identical to Quinn’s twinkling under the rays of the sun.
Finally Quinn broke away from his father and made a beeline for Piper. Before she could blink, his arm was around her waist, his lips on her ear. “We need to talk.” His voice was low, filled with concern.
She put a hand on his arm. The squeeze she gave him was the same squeeze she’d give her clients. A squeeze meant to comfort, yet one that kept her at a distance. “No, thank you,” she said quietly. “I’ve really got to go. Thank you for inviting me. It’s been an…eye-opening experience.”
Piper twisted from his light grip. Before turning to skitter away, she gazed into those mesmerizing eyes, wishing this would have turned out differently. “Oh and Quinn?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I’ve had about all I can handle of our…arrangement. So you’re off the hook. No harm, no foul?” She shrugged and gave the brightest smile she could muster, even though she was dying inside.
His face went cold in two seconds flat. “Excuse me?”
“You know, you and me? Since, you know, uh, I’m me and you are you and this isn’t going anywhere, I would like to cut it off right now. That okay with you?” Her question came out choked because her stomach was suddenly in her throat. Her pulse was thundering, and Quinn was staring at her that she’d grown a second head.
But he didn’t look angry. He looked more confused than anything. Confused, she could deal with.
He titled his head, his eyes roaming over her face, and he rubbed over his bottom lip with his index finger. “I’m sorry, but no.”
Her eyes bugged out. “No?”
The left side of his lip quirked. “Yes. I said no.”
Her stiff posture deflated like a popped balloon. But she couldn’t speak. What was she supposed to say to that?
“Do you have your car keys?” he asked, unfazed by her lack of response or the fact that her jaw was on the grass beneath her. “Piper? Car keys?”
Confused, she dug them out of her pocket and jingled them in front of her. He snatched them away in one swift motion.
“Hey—”
He spun about. “Hey, KC?” The brother turned, and Quinn chucked the keys to him. “Do me a favor and take Piper’s car to my house later, yeah?”
“Sure thing.”
Quinn twisted about, his expression still serious but concerned. Then without a word, he grasped Piper’s elbow and hauled off toward the parking lot.
When Piper finally found her voice, she tried to jerk back. “Please let me go, Quinn. Don’t make a scene.”
His gripped tightened. “That’s what I’m trying to keep you from doing. If you think you can have a panic attack, then act like nothing’s wrong and then dump me without explanation in front of my family and a bunch of strangers, you’ve got another thing coming.” He wretched open the car door. “Get in.”
Chapter Fifteen
Quinn didn’t say a word on the drive to his house. He didn’t even look at Piper. He wanted to. He wanted to kiss those fears right out of her mind. Loosen the tightness in her shoulders with a caress. But first he had to find out what in the hell was wrong with her in the first place.
Slamming the car into park in his driveway, he reached over and snapped her seat belt off. “We’re here.”
Piper’s eyes darted left and right, her arms crossed tightly around her chest. Finally, she glared at him. “Where are we?”
“My house.”
“I’m not getting out.”
He leveled a hard stare at her. “You’re getting out or I’m dragging you into the house. Your choice.”
She huffed a breath, her eyes turning to ice. He took his time sliding out of his side of the car, letting the door close quietly behind him. He stood there for a moment, letting the evening sun heat his face. He wasn’t angry, but thoroughly confused as to what his father had told him about the air show. From the way Marcus had talked, Piper had been on the verge of needing a paramedic. And the entire time she’d watched the show, his dad had said
Piper had been on the edge of her seat, her lips in a constant tremble. And yet, by the time he’d made his way over to his family, Piper had plastered a smile on her face and was speaking in a tone Quinn knew all-too-well. The same tone she used on her clients. She was appeasing his family with her funeral director charm for some reason. That wasn’t going to work for him. Something had changed in those minutes he’d been in the air. Something had changed drastically. But it wasn’t until she’d wanted to end their relationship that Quinn realized how drastically. She must be out of her mind.
By the time he meandered over to her side of the car, she’d opened the door and was getting out. He gave her a half-smile. “Good choice.”
She wouldn’t look him in the eye. Her gaze was hard focused on the sidewalk in front of her. He took the two steps between them. “The concrete doesn’t bite,” he said, taking her by the arm. “And I still promise that I don’t.”
Her feet moved slowly, and Quinn felt like he was dragging her to his door. With a little fumbling with the lock and hard kick with his boot, the solid piece of oak swung open. He pulled her inside and pointed to the left. “Sit.”
Shutting the door behind her, he made his way to the kitchen, hoping like hell Piper didn’t bolt in his absence. But he didn’t hear the door, only a slight shuffle of feet. He snatched two beers from the fridge and stomped back into the living room. Piper was standing along the far wall, her eyes glued to the vast array of family photos.
“You’re not sitting,” he commented, keeping his tone cool.
“This house is old.”
He crossed over to her, coming to stop right behind her. He heard the hitch in her breath.
“It was my grandpa’s. He grew up here.”
Her focus remained on the wall. “I can tell…from the pictures. There’s so many. And you all—” she reached out, touched a tattered wooden frame “—have striking similarities.”
He shrugged. He’d always enjoyed surrounding himself with memories of his life and the lives of those who brought him into this world. “It’s the eyes.”
Her hand dropped from the frame, and she turned, slowly, to face him. Under the cover of her long lashes, Quinn swore he saw a hint of tears. “Yes,” she murmured. “Green eyes lighter than I’ve ever seen. Beautiful.”
She blinked up at him, and Quinn saw an unknown flash of pain. And just like that, she blinked again and it was gone.
Her eyes slid back to the wall. “Who’s this?” she asked, pointing to a picture dead center. A picture of him and a girl from seventeen years ago, standing on the front sidewalk of this very house.
Quinn’s throat tightened at the image…and the question. He’d known he’d have to explain Maddie to Piper at some point. He didn’t want it to be now, when he and Piper had so many other things to discuss—like why she was trying to run out on him.
“That was Maddie…” Turning, he set the open beers down on the end table. He took a moment to draw in a breath. “My wife.”
Piper swiveled on the heel of her flats, like a slow motion movie. When her furious expression came into Quinn’s sight, his heart dropped.
“Your wife?” Her voice was good five octaves higher.
“Let me explain.” He moved toward her.
Her hand shot up. “No, please. Don’t.” She side-stepped him. “Funny how a man who doesn’t believe in marriage is, well, married.”
His hand caught her arm as she tried to shuffle past him. “Damn it, Piper, listen to me.”
Her back was to him, rigid as a board. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t dump that beer over your head.”
Quinn gulped, not wanting to go down this road. He was past this. And ready for something else. Something with Piper.
When he finally spoke, his voice was flat. “I’m a widower.”
A strangled sound erupted from Piper’s lips, and her arm went limp under his grip. When she turned, her face was etched with distress. “Your wife passed away? Oh, my God, Quinn, I’m so sorry.”
And just like that, Quinn saw the transformation from regular Piper to Funeral Director Piper. Her eyes glazed over, her hands lay solemnly on his inner elbow. He did not need this.
“I don’t need your sympathy, Piper. She’s gone and has been for a while. Please don’t pull your undertaker bit on me.”
Her eyes snapped open. “My undertaker bit?” Her tension was back, heat radiating off her in waves. “I don’t have a bit.”
“Oh, yes you do.” He snatched her hand away from his elbow and took both her arms into his hands. “You pulled the same thing on my parents this afternoon. Believe it not, there are two very different sides to you. I don’t ever want the empathetic business Piper in my arms—or my bed.”
Her bottom lip quivered. “Don’t worry, you won’t have either anymore.”
She went to twist out of his grip. He held her firm. “Don’t do this, Piper. Whatever it is that’s making you run, stop it. Stop it right now.”
His thumbs caressed her skin. His eyes roamed over her face. He stepped closer, needing to feel her heat against him.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Please. I can’t take it.”
“If you tell me what’s wrong, I promise to make it go away.”
Silence hung between them for several long beats. Finally, she spoke. “It’s you.”
He lurched back at the punch to his gut. “Me? What I have done?”
She trembled beneath his touch. “It’s not what you’ve done; it’s what you’re making me feel.” Her lashes fluttered. She blinked once, twice, and then looked him in the eyes. That cold stare was back. “I can’t afford what you do to me, Quinn. You’re careless and reckless, and I—”
A laugh rolled out of him. “Careless? Reckless? Me?” He rocked back on his heels, releasing his hands from her silken skin. “Compared to my brothers, I’m probably the most levelheaded one.”
Her jaw tensed. “All three of you are idiots.”
Quinn hastily picked up his beer and chugged a long drink, his temper beginning to flare. “So I went from being careless to being an idiot? I think that requires a little bit more explaining, wouldn’t you say?”
“No.”
He slammed the beer down and swung around, grabbing Piper by the waist and spinning her about. He stopped once she was pressed against the wall and he was against her. “I think so.”
“You think wrong.”
His fingers raked through his hair. “I don’t get it. Everything was fine between us. Does your attitude today have anything to do with that box in your apartment? Or another visit from Gavin?”
Quinn hated the way the man’s named sounded, hated the way he’d cornered Piper, but what he hated more was the pained looked marring her striking features at his words.
Her shoulders straightened. “Why can’t you see that I don’t think it’s okay for a man—any man, for that matter—to allow himself to be put in danger. No person with a family, loved ones, what-have-you, should risk it. Do you know what would happen if something happened to you?”
His voice dropped. “To you, you mean?”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “No. To your family. It’s selfish of you to risk yourself for something so stupid.”
Her words sent ice through him. “Selfish? You think I’m selfish?” Her duh look made him stiffen around her. “I’ve been flying since I was eighteen. I think I know damn good and well how to do it.”
“It’s not only the flying, Quinn.”
“Then what? Danger in general? What? Something’s careening in that mind of yours, and you need to tell me what it is.” Holding her gaze, his fingers danced up her rib cage, and he pressed his body closer to hers. She was pinned. “I’m not letting you go until we work this out.”
Piper’s brow arched. “So you’ve suddenly gone from Mr. Hallmark Card to Mr. Barbarian?”
“When someone I’m sleeping with won’t tell me what’s wrong with them, I think that’s a problem. And you better believe t
hat I work out my problems. I’m sorry if you don’t like it, Piper, but that’s how I operate. You can’t come into my life, flip it upside down, and expect everything to be okay if you want to flick me out on a whim. Relationships don’t work like that. I like to think I’ve been patient thus far, and I think, at the very least, you owe me more explanation than what you’ve given me.”
“You won’t understand.”
“I won’t if you don’t tell me.” He dared a chaste kiss to her lips. “What made you freak out today? And why don’t you want to see me anymore? I’m sure those two things are related.”
Her breathing became labored, her eyes wider. “When people have someone who loves them or when people love each other, the last thing they should do it put themselves in harm’s way. Any harm’s way.” Her hands were waving at him, her voice rising with each pointed syllable. “Whether it’s flying or driving or fishing, for God’s sake. Their responsibility lies with those who depend on them. Me.” She ended on a shout, her hands shaking at her sides.
Suddenly it hit him like a two-by-four to the head. He swallowed, thinking about his next words carefully. Before speaking, he caressed her cheek with his thumb.
“Tell me, Piper…were your…” Holy hell, how did he say it without making her madder than she was? The last thing he wanted was for her to run out on him. “You’ve loved, yes?”
Her head bobbed, her stare still frozen with anger.
“Your parents, right?”
Another nod, this time with a sprinkle of tears at the corner of her eyes.
“And your parents…passed away and left you all alone. Did you find that selfish of them?”
“Yes.” The word was but a whisper.
His heart sank. This woman wasn’t afraid of death like he’d thought. She wasn’t in constant mourning for those she’d lost. She didn’t care—she didn’t love—because she thought those who did were selfish—selfish to those left behind. “So, if you love someone or if you have children, you should always be there for them.”
“Forever.”
“There’s no such thing as forever, Piper.”