Until Next Time

by Dell, Justine

  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.

  When Gavin’s arms wound around her waist, she simply closed her eyes and let everything in her mind go blank.

  Unfortunately for her, Gavin didn’t want to dance in silence. He pressed her closer, putting them cheek to cheek.

  “So that’s the man who stole you away from me,” he murmured, swinging them slowly around so Piper could see Quinn’s hard expression across the room.

  “He stole nothing. He was here first.”

  Gavin sighed. “How long have you been seeing him?”

  “About a week before I met you.” Though Piper didn’t know why she was telling him this. It was none of his business. But something about the lull of Gavin’s breathing, the confident way in which he held her, and the fact that she knew he would make a fitting—and uncomplicated lover—made her nerves about the whole situation settle.

  “Ah, so if only I’d made that first appointment to see you earlier, you’d be with me right now.” He chuckled lightly, blowing her hair gently.

  It was with that admission that Piper realized how true those words were. And then maybe she wouldn’t be having all these conflicted emotions swimming around inside her. She wouldn’t have to worry about what people thought, did, and wanted, because she still wouldn’t care.

  That was what she wanted…right?

  Gavin swung her around again, his grip massaging the side of her waist.

  “My timing stinks, then,” he commented. “If it ever doesn’t work out, though…” He leaned out, giving her a wink and drew her back in. “Call me.”

  “You’re awfully bold.”

  “I know a good find when I see one, is all.”

  Her eyes locked on Quinn along the edge of the dance floor, his unfathomable stare still fixed on her. Yes, she k
new a good find when she found one, too. Someone soft. Someone caring. Someone careful. Someone perfect. Something she’d never even looked for before. Something she’d never cared about. Someone who opened her up and showed her things she’d been missing.

  Quinn.

  She might hate what he did to her, what he showed her, what he made her feel, but the emotions curling around her heart were furthest from hate. The feeling unfurled, entwining itself around her entire chest, restricting her air, splintering her thoughts.

  Gavin twisted, tearing Piper’s gaze away from Quinn. Away from the man she loved. Her heart thundered with that admission. She’d never be able to tell him. Even though she was certain she’d felt that way for a while, she could barely utter the words inside her head. And now she had to figure out how to make that feeling go away. That was a stupid thought. She knew that this feeling wouldn’t go away. She knew she had to face it. And she hated that.

  “And from the look on Quinn’s face,” Gavin added, “it seems he knows when he’s found a good one, too.”

  Gavin gave her a gentle laugh, putting a comfortable distance between their bodies. “Lucky man.”

  <<<<>>>>>

  Quinn’s fingers tightened around his punch cup. He should be the one on the dance floor with Piper. He wanted to feel her heat. Give her comfort. Be everything she ever needed.

  But Quinn knew by the distant look in Piper’s eyes that she wasn’t seeing or hearing what Gavin said. She didn’t feel for Gavin what she felt for Quinn; of that, he was certain. But he didn’t have to like the way Gavin’s hand curled around her hip, or the way he kept drawing her close and whispering in her ear.

  “Looks like someone needs a stiffer drink.”

  At the sound of Mitch’s voice, Quinn snapped his head around. “What would make you think that?”

  Mitch laughed a deep sound. “Because if you squeeze that cup any tighter, my friend, you’ll get purple goo all over your nice suit.”

  With great effort, Quinn relaxed his grip. “I was watching Piper.”

  “You mean you were watching Piper with another man who wants her.”

  Quinn coughed, taking another swig of his drink to swallow the thump in his throat. “Gavin’s face gives it away too well,” he commented.

  “Piper’s face says a lot, too.”

  Quinn’s gaze swung to Piper, then back to Mitch. “You’ve known her longer than anyone I’ve met, Mitch…what does her face say to you?”

  “More than words could possibly say.”

  “Try me.”

  “If I know Piper, I know she’s terrified right now. Look at the way she’s gripping Gavin’s sleeves. Her steps are jerky, tight. And she’s yet to look at him.”

  Quinn craned his neck, getting a better looking at the dancing couple. Mitch was right. Quinn squinted, focusing on the tight lines around Piper’s lips, the hardness in her eyes, and the slight tremble to her gripping fingers.

  “No,” Mitch added, “her attention is pretty far away from the man in her arms.”

  Then where was her attention? Still combing through what happened earlier in the day? Fighting with the understanding of the conversation with Mitch and Paul?

  Mitch’s robust laugh drew Quinn’s attention back to him.

  “What’s so funny?” Quinn asked.

  “You. You’re concentrating so hard I’m surprised you haven’t had an aneurysm.”

  “Just thinking. Nothing wrong with that.”

  “I’d say you’re more than thinking. You haven’t figured our girl out yet, have you?”

  Quinn closed his eyes, remembering everything he and Piper had shared. Everything he’d learned about this fascinating, complex creature. Everything he loved. Everything he couldn’t tell her. Everything he couldn’t have with her.

  He blew out a hard breath. “I’ve figured her out, all right. Losing her would be like losing a body part at this point.”

  Mitch’s eyes lit up. “You’re more than smitten with her, aren’t you?”

  “’Fraid so.”

  And there it was…out in the open…to one of Piper’s closest friends. Quinn hoped he hadn’t just made the mistake of a lifetime.

  Mitch slapped his back. “How wonderful! Piper hasn’t been in a serious relationship since I’ve known her.”

  Quinn withheld an aggravated groan. He knew that. “Piper doesn’t want us to be a serious relationship, either, Mitch.” His eyes flicked once more to the woman he loved on the dance floor. “And that, my friend, is the problem.”

  Mitch’s voice went serious. “I suggest you do something about it, then.”

  “Some things are easier said than done. If I tell her how I feel, I might lose her.” Actually, he knew he would lose her. Piper didn’t love him. Wouldn’t love him. She couldn’t.

  “Might I tell you a story?”

  Quinn took a gulp of his now warm punch. “Of course.”

  “When I met Paul, he wasn’t looking for anything serious, either. From what he’d told me, he’d been in several serious relationships—all of them ending badly. With me, he’d only wanted a tryst.”

  “Hmm,” Quinn commented. “Sounds a lot like Piper.”

  The corner of Mitch’s mouth curled with a smile. “True. I’ve always held hope that Piper would change her ways. She wasn’t the same after her father passed away. I imagine losing everyone she’s loved has taken a toll on her.” Mitch’s gaze went to Piper. His calm expression narrowed, giving Quinn a good look at a protective friend. “She never talked to me about it in detail…” Mitch admitted. “I was there for her as much as she’d let me be. The woman has a way of keeping people at arm’s length even though she doesn’t realize it most of the time.”

  This man really did know Piper. What Quinn wouldn’t give to pick at his brain for a few hours. “So when you’ve got someone like Piper, what do you do?” he asked.

  Mitch’s grin was quick. “Well, with Paul, I was happy to go along with his little friends-with-benefits thing. Not only because I was attracted to him, but because it’s difficult to meet people in our field. Something freaks people out about dealing with death.”

  “I can imagine.” Although Quinn never thought of it as strange. He’d always found it fascinating. It took strong people to do what these people did. Very strong people.

  “So most of us learn that when you find something that works, something that makes you happy, you fight for it.”

  Quinn shook his head. Piper wouldn’t agree with that statement. He, however, did.

  “I learned quickly that Paul was exactly what I’d been looking for. So I had two choices.” Mitch’s gaze locked on Quinn. “Care to guess what they were?”

  “Tell him and lose him would be one, I imagine.” He clucked his tongue, not wanting to picture that scenario with Piper. “You got me on the other.”

  “The other was not telling him, still losing him down the road and never knowing what could have been.”

  “What about not telling him and keeping him for as long as you can? That sounds like a viable option.”

  Mitch’s expression went soft. “But there would always be the what-if, Quinn. You’ll always lose them in the end if you don’t tell someone how you feel, what you need. Always. The question is, do you want to do that? Do you want to lose Piper without knowing what if?”

  Quinn swung his attention back to Piper. Her expression remained somewhat conflicted and pained, even as her feet floated across the floor.

  What he would give to see her smile in this moment. Tell her something to light up her face, wipe away her concerns, and just…be. But being suddenly wasn’t good enough for Quinn. He needed more. Wanted more.

  And even if Piper didn’t realize it herself, she needed more, too. Maybe he was the one who could finally give it to her. Maybe he could tell her all the things he’d been thinking. Maybe they could find happiness together, the kind that would last forever.

  Quinn didn’t want to live the rest of his life wonderi
ng what if. Now only if he was strong enough to break the promise he’d sworn to keep.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Quinn’s hand settled on the back of Piper’s dress as he led her back to the room. Her posture was strangely rigid, her eyes unusually dark. And she hadn’t said a word to him since he’d swept her off the dance floor…and out of Gavin’s arms.

  She moved away from him quickly as the door to the suite closed behind them.

  “Piper.”

  Piper froze at the entrance to the bathroom door, her hand clutching the frame. But she didn’t turn around. She didn’t look at him.

  When she didn’t speak, Quinn strode across the room, pressing himself into her back. He doubted Piper realized how quickly she eased back, allowing her body to curl against his.

  He dropped his lips to her collarbone. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  She turned then, splaying her hands across his chest. Her eyes were hooded, clouded. “Tell me that everything will go back to normal when we go back home, Quinn.” Her voice was timid, concerned.

  His arms wound around her back, taking away the last inch or so that separated them. “Do you think it will?”

  Her head bobbed, settling warmly against his chest. “I need it to. I need to erase all the stuff I’ve learned from the last twenty-four hours and go back to being me. I need to be able to survive this week without thinking about…”

  As her voice trailed off, Quinn tugged her close. “Shh. It’s okay, Piper.”

  “No, I don’t know if it will be okay. And now that you’re tossed into this mix, things are changing…” Her gaze flitted to his. “Don’t you feel they’re changing? We are changing?”

  His chest constricted. “Yes.”

  He didn’t know how to show her that these changes—their relationship and her new feelings—would be okay. He would make them okay. But he just needed her to tell him how.

  Her hand curled around the lapel of his jacket. Her head dipped back, and Quinn caught the look of need in her eyes. Was it a need for him? Or a need for space? Or a need for something he didn’t even know about?

  God help him, he had to figure it out…and fast.