Until Next Time (12 page)

Her eyes caught the sun as she raised her head to look at him. “I never pinned you for the jealous type, Quinn.”

He eyed her carefully. He couldn’t tell if she was annoyed or amused. Her tone was even, yet her cheeks were still a nice shade of rose. “Every guy is the jealous type, Piper. Especially when there’s something one wants that the other one has. But I’m a grown man, I can take rejection. All you need to do is say it”.

“Well.” She unfolded herself from the car but still kept the door between them. “I appreciate your honesty. I meant to call you sooner, I really did.” Her voice remained calm, but Quinn thought he heard a hint of unease. About what, he had no idea.

“And
that guy
,” Piper continued, “is a rep of mine who sells embalming and restoration supplies. Yesterday we had a meeting about my stock and new products.”

“So you aren’t seeing him?”

Finally, she laughed, tossing her head back. God, if that wasn’t the most perfect sound. It kicked him right in the gut. “No. I’d known him about an hour when you saw us together.”

“Then, uh…what was that business about massage oil and stuff? I mean, any person overhearing that would have thought otherwise, Piper.”

Her eyes sparkled. “It’s for dead people, Quinn. Would you like me to go into detail?”

He swallowed, shaking his head at the image in his head. “No, thanks.”

“I didn’t think so. Gavin—that’s his name—and I have a lot in common based solely on our business. I’m sorry you got the wrong idea.” Her brow drew together as if remembering something. “Why didn’t you ever call me at night? You know I have the office phone forwarded at night and that I always answer it. Why during the day, Quinn?”

Shuffling his feet, he eased around the door, wedging her in the
V
. “Because I didn’t want you to be forced into talking to me. I wanted you to call me back because you wanted to.”

She nodded, easing back a smidge.

“I had a wonderful time on our date,” he added. “When I thought that guy already had what I wanted, I figured it best to let you have who
you
wanted. Which, to me, looked like him. I really like you, so I was—conflicted.”

“Oh.”

“Normally I wouldn’t have said anything, but you, Piper—” One more small step and his body pressed into hers. “I have to admit that not seeing you again was driving me crazy.”

Her eyes scanned his whole face, lingering on his lips. “That’s, uh, very nice of you.”

He chuckled, drawing away. She looked dazed for a moment before running her hands over her up-do and the front of her shirt.

“Can I see you again?” he asked. “It’s been far too long.”

She glanced at her watch. “Yes, of course.” Her words were rushed. “I’ve got a meeting at noon, but then we can talk after that. Call me?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not putting my cards into the phone business again. Tonight. How’s that?”

She glanced around as if people could hear them, see them. Odd.

“Piper?” he urged, his voice careful. “Tonight?”

“Sure. Sure. What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

She slid in the car, started the engine. Quinn leaned down to see her face. “Oh, by the way, it’s family game night.”

At her shocked expression, he shut the door, gave her a grin and a wave.

Blowing out a satisfied breath, he meandered over to his car, thankful that he somehow managed to get Piper to see him again. He folded himself into his own car, remembering how Piper flushed when he’d touched her, recalling the hitch to her breath when he was near. She liked him, all right. Which meant tonight, and every other night, he wasn’t going to let her skate around him. And he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Chapter Ten

Piper rushed home, and after relieving Margo of her phone duties, she trotted upstairs and threw herself in the shower. She needed to cool off.
Way
off. What was it about Quinn’s simple stare, weightless touch, and devastating smile that had her so worked up?

She pressed a washcloth to her face, allowing the pelts of water to cool her stretched nerves. To think…for Quinn to think…
her and Gavin.
That thought was laughable. And Quinn had been so sensitive about the whole thing. They seriously needed to discuss their supposed relationship, even if that was what you could call it. They had gone on one date.
One.

Piper jumped out of the shower and hastily dried herself off. She threw her wet hair up in tight bun, slipped on a cool summer dress, moisturized, and bolted for the downstairs. Slightly out of breath, she leaped of the bottom step into the foyer area as Gavin was walking through the front door of the funeral home.

His eyes swept down her length and then back up. He was smiling when his gaze met hers.

“Uh, am I early?” he asked.

Shaking her head, she walked toward him, hand outstretched. “No. I had an, uh, unexpected meeting earlier this morning so I was freshening up. Sorry.”

His head cocked, his eyes swirling around the features of her face. Another wide grin split his handsome face. Yes, Piper would admit he was handsome. In the business type of way. Straight shoulders, lean arms and legs, chiseled features, and the ever-present boyish grin. Yes, handsome.

“You freshened up for our appointment?” he said, gripping her hand a little tighter. “Should I be flattered?”

Smacked back into reality, Piper dropped her hand and spun about. “I don’t normally meet reps over the weekend, Gavin,” she started. She quickly made her way through the foyer to the door under the stairs. “But because you had so many good ideas yesterday about how to spruce up our stock and move into the twenty-first century, as you so eloquently explained it, I thought I would make an exception. That’s all.” She jerked the door open, waving for him to go ahead of her.

His brow arched as he passed her. “Point taken.”

Again he took the steps down two at a time. Piper ushered in behind him, easily floating down the steps in her flats. Switching on the lights as she went, they made their way back to the refrigeration area, which sat directly across from her storage area.

Glancing around, Gavin commented, “Looks like you’ve organized your main work space a little more since yesterday.”

“I tried. The phone hasn’t rung for twenty-four hours.” She frowned. That hadn’t happened in…how long?

“I’m guessing that’s not normal by the look on your face.”

“No. No, it’s not. I wonder…” She bolted to the other room and yanked up the receiver hanging on the wall. The dial tone was there. Huh. Maybe someone saw fit to give her a day-long reprieve. She hoped not for Quinn’s family game night. She already knew about an hour into it she’d be begging for a phone call. Not because of his family, not that she’d met all of them. It was simply, Quinn. She’d done her best to avoid him and this strange tickle in her chest at the thought of him. He made her think. He questioned her. Infuriated her. Intrigued her. And for some silly reason, she still
liked
being around him. And she hated that. Hated.It.

“Is someone on the other end there, Piper?” Gavin stood in front of her, a humorous look on his face.

Stupidly, Piper realized the phone was still glued to her ear. “Oh, jeez.” She hung it up. “I’m a mess today. Sorry.”

“Everyone’s entitled to a bad day. I’ve had my share of them. It’s hard to not have a bad day in this line of work.”

His solemn stone made Piper take a step back. Why did everything Gavin say have to make such a poignant point to her?

“The storage area?” she mumbled. “Shall I show you?”

He took her by the elbow and led her back to the area they’d just come from.

“Here.” She fumbled with a key she snatched from the doorway. Surprisingly, the padlock opened without a fight, and the large steel door slid to the left, showcasing a walk-in type closet stacked with old boxes, cans of God-knows-what, and ancient embalming equipment.

Gavin eyed her. “When’s the last time you inventoried this place?”

She shrugged. “Never.” Stepping in, she ran a hand over the boxes to the left. “Everything over here is from before Dad passed away.” She lifted her hand, blew off the dust accumulated on her fingertips. “Obviously.” Twisting, she eyed the newer boxes and can on the right. “This is the stuff I’ve ordered and never used. It took me a while to realize I didn’t need everything the old rep said I needed.”

Gavin’s laugh was full of humor. “So then, where should we start? Do you even want to inventory it? I mean, even some of the
new
stuff looks old.”

She twisted a clutch of her dress in her fingers. “I’d rather go through it, if that’s all right with you.”

His expression was expectant. “I thought you’d say that. You’re pretty attached to the old stuff, aren’t you?”

Her eyes flicked to the right, where the stuff she’d bought sat. “Uh, yeah. A little. Let’s go through this stuff first.” She hauled a box down to the floor and sent dust flying.

Gavin coughed.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She looked down at her now dirty dress. “I probably should have worn old jeans or something.”

He smiled easily. “You look fine, and the dust will wash off.”

“Are you an expert in linen and laundry?”

Another laugh, this time with a hint of something Piper couldn’t sense. “I’m an expert in many things, Piper.”

Piper shuffled backwards, quickly yanking another box off the shelf and dropping it at his feet. “You do this one,” she said quickly.

Together they worked in tandem, throwing away pretty much everything they came across. Thankfully Gavin remained quiet most of the time unless he had a question about a product. An hour later, they had all the boxes Piper had ordered shifted through, thrown away, and reorganized.

Piper jumped up from her squatted position on the floor. “Whew.” She brushed her hands over her now
really
dusty dress. “I think I’ll need another shower after this.”

“Do you have plans tonight?” he asked, totally out of the blue.

“Uh, yes, actually I do.”

“That’s too bad.” He gazed at the boxes on the left. “Shall we tackle the next stack?”

“If you insist.”

A wolfish grin lit his face. “Oh, I insist. You can’t move forward until you get rid of all that’s holding you back, Piper.”

Her stomach tightened.

“You look like I ran over your cat, Piper.” He stepped closer, studying her. “Do you want to go through the more personal things one box at a time? Together?”

“Uh, okay.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you throw out anything you can’t live without.” Again he took another step, this time bringing his hand up to sweep back the hair that had fallen from her bun.

It reminded her of Quinn sweeping a hair of her face during their date. She shivered from the memory.

“I can see that your father’s old stuff is important to you,” he added, dropping his hand to her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Promise me this, though…you will throw out anything expired?”

“Of course.” She skittered back, unsure of the tingle erupting at the base of her neck. Was it because she was thinking of Quinn? Or because Gavin was so close?

As if sensing Piper’s unease, Gavin eased back and hauled down the first box and unceremoniously ripped open the lid. Age old sealers and waxes were stacked to the top.

He looked up at her. “Toss?”

“Sure.”

The next box came down, full of putties and gels and powders. Piper quickly agreed to toss it, too.

Box after box they did this, saving only a few of her father’s old tools she hadn’t seen in a while. Surprisingly she found that she was able to throw away the old products with only a slight discomfort twisting her belly. It was nice to be surrounded by his old things. Even if they were outdated things. He had touched them, used them, and shown her how to do her job with them. She had practically grown up in this place, bouncing about and watching with wide eyes as her father taught her the ropes. She’d seen each of the tools and supplies used in their glory days. She’d watched her father’s agile hands prepare a body as if it were a loved one of his own.

There were memories in each of these boxes, and while Gavin didn’t know the story behind them, Piper could tell that he was being extra sensitive with her when it came time to ask what should be kept and what should be thrown away. She appreciated that. He was kind, and she had a feeling that he understood death in the same way she did, which, for some reason, made her that much more comfortably around him.

“This is the last one.” Gavin scooted a final box from the far back of the shelf. It was different than the others, and Piper didn’t recall seeing it before. Instead of haphazardly being folded shut and crammed in the tight place, this one was neatly taped with writing on the side.

Piper ushered Gavin forward. “Bring it here. I can’t read what it says.”

He used a cloth from a roll on the wall and dusted it quickly before sitting it on the floor in front of her.

“It’s says ‘Piper’,” she said, suddenly losing her breath.

Bending one on knee, he pulled a folding knife from his back pocket and sliced through the old, brown tape. When the box flipped open, Piper fell to her knees.

Gavin said nothing as Piper picked up the gray bunny with flattened fur from the top of the box. She clutched it to her chest, memories of story time with her parents flooding her. Mr. Hoppers had always been with her, sitting on her lap, reading along with Mom and Dad. She’d thought he’d been lost when she was ten. Tears bubbled to the surface, but she bit them back.

Still holding Mr. Hoppers in one hand, Piper shakily picked up a clear plastic person, the kind that had organs and veins like in real anatomy. Mr. Visible Man had been a gift for her tenth birthday. As she’d aged, she’d grown more and more curious as to the human body, and more importantly, what happened to it once a person passed away. Dad had given her this as gift, to show her what happened when someone died, and to show Piper what he did in the basement all day. A year after getting this plastic person, Piper had finally been allowed to go into the bowels of the funeral home and see for herself. Some people might have found that morbid, a child so interested in death, but Piper was different. This was going to be her business, she’d known that from a very young age, and she hadn’t been scared of death, she’d been intrigued by it. The inner workings of the home and the care that went into the dead, and those still living. She’d embraced it.

That was until…

“Piper?” Gavin touched her shoulder, shocking her back to the now. “What is this stuff?”

The tears were back, and this time Piper couldn’t stop them. They crested over her eyes and flooded down her cheeks. “It’s my stuff,” she mumbled. “Dad kept my stuff…”

“Maybe your dad wanted to keep a box of stuff of yours close to him, like you did for him.” Gavin’s words were a dim echo inside her head as she tossed Mr. Visible Man and Mr. Hoppers to the side and dug in the box with both hands.

With tears streaking her vision, she pulled out her very first “embalming kit” her father had bought her at sixteen, a notebook where she’d journaled everything she’d learned while watching her father, a few college pamphlets, pictures of her and Dad working side by side when she’d finally turned eighteen. Her mother had been dead for nine years at that time. Piper had still been so angry about it, her mother getting ripped from her life at such a young age, yet as she gazed at her dad in some of the pictures, she saw how much she’d relied on him in her mom’s absence. She’d needed him.

She stopped, jumped up, and kicked the now half-empty box across the room.

Her sobs came faster, nearly choking her. He’d left her. Dad had left her, just like her mom. Just like Steven had. Like every person did. They died. People died. They grew up, created loving families, only to make those families suffer when they passed away. Death was inevitable…the pain was not.

She gripped at her heart, not wanting to remember those good times. Not wanting to remember how selfish her parents had been for loving her endlessly, only to then die on her.

“Piper.” Gavin had his hands around her shoulders, shaking her. “Piper!”

Piper shook her head violently, swiping away the tears as best she could. “Throw that box out.”

Gavin’s grip loosened, his eyes combed her face. “I don’t think you should do that.”

“Throw it out!”

She twisted away from him and stomped up the stairs. She ignored his calls as she bounded up the steps, her dress swishing from her speed. She slammed the stair door behind her and rushed through the foyer, to the other set of stairs that led up to her apartment. She bolted inside and threw herself down on her couch, still sobbing.

Flopping over, she gazed out the window and up to the blue sky. The sky was beautiful, untouchable. Her parents had told her long ago that everyone met their loved ones again in the vast space called heaven. It was a happy place, a cherished place that people dreamed about in death. The place where people didn’t hurt or suffer. The place where you could wrap your arms around those you love and keep them there…forever.