Until Next Time (7 page)

Mr. Fitzgerald, a fifty-year-old man who died in car crash, lay on her left. His twenty-year-old daughter, who perished in the same crash, lay on her right. Piper cringed as she flipped through the pages. She hadn’t recalled a great deal of information from the foggy two a.m. phone call or the subsequent visit to the morgue, but going over the details in black and white made her stomach roll. For the first time in a long time.

They’d been on their way to the daughter’s wedding. The mother survived, along with one sister. They’d escaped the tragedy with only scrapes and bruises. Piper was amazed at the selfishness of love—and death. Pushing away the unwanted feelings that crept up out of nowhere, Piper methodically did what she had to do.

She washed and dried the bodies. Stroking the bride’s hair a few times more than necessary. Like a robot she hooked them up to the tubes and drains, filling their now-leathery skin with embalming fluid. Like every other day. She glued the eyes and mouth closed, noticing a slight lift in the bride’s lip. Almost like she had been smiling. Piper shook off that image and concentrated. Once done, she washed and dried them again. She applied a special lotion to their skin, one that gave them the appearance of being more alive. Satisfied with her work, she put the body’s side-by-side in the cooling chamber, where Piper imagined they would stay until the wife and mother of the deceased was well enough to make arrangements. She wanted a funeral, but weren’t yet able to handle to details. What a terrible tragedy. And yet, Piper knew the family would survive, no matter how hard it would be. They always did.

Her thoughts slid back to Quinn. And how his family survived. How they connected. How they didn’t allow death to cripple them. And how Quinn had so easily made a difference in the life of someone else who had lost a loved one. There was something particularly intriguing about that family. Something particularly intriguing about Quinn. She had never wanted to sit down with a man—one that made her hot from the inside out—and actually learn more about him. Learning about a man made her care more than she should. More than she needed to. But there was tightness in her gut that told her she didn’t have a choice regarding getting to know Quinn. It was something she had to do.

“Busy night?”

Margo’s voice made Piper practically jump out of her flats. When had she become so distracted? Oh. Right. Quinn.

Piper closed the door to the cooling chamber and stripped off her apron and gloves. “You could say that. I’ve got two on tap and two ready to go. Would you help me put them their coffins?”

Margo frowned. “You already prepared the two from last night?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. I need to get my mind off something and that always helps.” Although the very notion would sound ridiculous to most people. But it was easy not to think about things when you were so focused on your work. Even though every time she’d taken a breath, she’d remembered Quinn’s scent. His smile. His eyes.
Focus.
“Glad to see you didn’t come in this morning with your gothic war paint on.”

A laughed echoed through the tiled room. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I meant to get of here before anyone saw me. But then Jessica needed to leave early and…” She waved a hand over herself. “You got me.”

Piper grinned. “It’s okay. I imagine you’d have scared away any customers, and since you didn’t, all is forgiven.” She tightened her bun. “And I appreciate you covering for Jessica. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Margo glanced around. “Now what am I supposed to do all evening since you did my job for me?”

Piper eyed the cabinet full of restoration items.

“Oh.” Margo padded over to it. “Want me to clean this up?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. We’ve got a new rep coming next week, and I don’t want to look like a total schlep.” Even though Piper would admit to being the one who had made the cabinet a total mess in the first place. The people on her tables were more important than knowing where the reconstructive paste was at any given time.

“I hope the new rep is nicer than the last one,” Margo said. “He was a total pain in the a—”

“Yes, he was.” Piper handed Margo the list of cataloged supplies. “This is what we should have in the pile. They’re listed by date. Could you make sure they’re accounted for?”

“Yeah.” The cabinet door fell open, spilling containers all across the floor.

“Sorry about that.”

Margo waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. You go take care of business.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She turned to go. “Oh, you do have a body pickup at Carmichael’s any time after six.”

“Good, then the evening won’t be shot.”

Piper inwardly cringed at the unintended pun. The body Margo was going to pick up had been a hunting accident. “No, it won’t.”

After getting the people in their respective coffins, Piper headed upstairs to prepare for the upcoming funerals. Her work was never truly done. It required twenty-four hours of her time. Whenever the phone rang, she answered it. Whenever someone needed a shoulder, she offered one. Which made her stop and think. She’d never minded a date with a male friend being interrupted before. Suddenly she didn’t want anything to interrupt her night with Quinn.

Groaning at her own ludicrous thought, she rearranged flowers in the chapel room. Interruptions would be exactly what she needed Friday night to keep her head on straight. Quinn’s quiet seductive charm might well be enough to crack through the tough shell Piper had spent so long building. Her stomach flipped. That man was going to give her fits before it was all said and done. She should have said no to the date. Flat-out
no
.

There was no way around it now, though. But she had to be straight with Quinn. Getting serious with her wasn’t going to happen. Although she wouldn’t mind a roll in the sheets. No. Even that wouldn’t be a good idea with Quinn. She already knew she couldn’t resist the pull of his depthless eyes. The wonder of his light hair. The intensity of his unnerving, sexy smile. And his ability to break through and see some brighter side of death. That’s why she’d said yes in the first place. She knew a dangerous pull when she felt one. And that pull would lead to a large cliff and a hard splat. Not a place she was prepared to go. Not now. Not ever.

Chapter Six

Twenty-four hours later Piper paced the foyer of the funeral home like someone going through withdrawal. She’d had very little sleep the night before—from both work interruptions in the middle of the night and her own mind racing with thoughts of Quinn. Her nerves were twitchy. Like a silly teenager on her first Friday night date. It was Friday, but she definitely wasn’t a teenager. Piper had dated. A lot. So what was her problem tonight?

“You’re going to wear holes through the bottom of your flats,” Jessica said wryly.

Piper stopped short and playfully glared at her young secretary. “Thanks for the memo.”

“It’s only a date, Piper. It’s not like a blind date. You like him, he likes you. What’s got you so riled up?”

She dragged a hand through her wild hair. Hair that she had decided to
not
put up in one of her perfect buns. So now instead of being neat and clean, it was all poufy and curly around her face and shoulders. “Nothing,” Piper grumbled. “Long night. And truthfully, I didn’t really want to go out with Quinn anyway. I was being nice.”

Jessica’s thin brow rose. “Really?”

“Well, something like that.”

“Ah, I see.” Jessica’s lips curled. “I’ve got to run down to the storage room to get some files. If you’re gone when I get back…” Those eyebrows wiggled. “Have fun.”

“Yeah, sure.” Piper glared at the doorway. She could go out on one date. And after today there would be no more. Period.

Someone rapped on the door. Why did he always knock? After taking the deepest breath she’d ever taken and roughly blowing it out, Piper swung the door wide, her eyes instantly glued to the man beyond the threshold. His gaze skittered down to her toes and back, locking on her face. His magnetic eyes sparkled.

“You look wonderful,” he said.

She looked comfortable was more like it. Wild hair, silky yellow summer dress, practical flats. It was a hundred degrees outside, after all.

She blushed anyway. “Thank you. You, too.” And he did. Some men were made to wear jeans, and Quinn was one of them. Fitting in all the right spots, loose in all the others, hanging perfectly on his lean waist. Today his shirt was white, crisp as though it was brand-new. Her insides did a little jig. He clutched a single white rose in his hand. Piper frowned.

Without saying a word, Quinn reached into his back pocket, pulled out a little pocketknife and sliced the head of the rose right off. It bounced to the porch, leaving only a sad thorny stem behind.

He held it up for her, his eyes shimmering. “This is for you.”

Piper took the long stem without hesitation. He was good. She had to give him that.

His elbow shot out. “Ready to go?”

She nodded, lacing her arm into the curve of his elbow. Fire erupted where their skin touched. If Quinn felt the flame, he didn’t let it show on his face. His eyes were trained ahead, his steps to the car controlled and easy. Maybe it was her after all.

Which meant, if she could control herself, this date would be quick and painless—like ripping off a Band-Aid. Actually, Band-Aids stung. And if the erratic beats of her heart were anything to judge, then saying no to Quinn if he asked her out again would be like ripping of a giant one.

She hadn’t even gotten through her first date yet and she couldn’t stop thinking about how to stop a second. Cheese and crackers, she was in trouble.

<<<<>>>>>

Piper looked perfect. That was all Quinn could think about as he drove along the oak-lined streets through the countryside. From the sundress that perfectly complimented the color of her skin. To her hair that had him itching to run his fingers through it. The curls swooped, flowed halfway down her back and screamed
touch me
. He couldn’t imagine why she wore her hair up all the time. It was simply stunning and nearly took his breath away when she’d open the door.

Every now and again his gaze swung to her. She clutched the single stem with both hands, her eyes intently focused forward. He wanted to talk. He wanted to say a lot of things. But even though she looked the part of being on a date, she wasn’t fully committed. Her eyes had given it away the moment they’d locked with his. Beneath those nutmeg depths, Quinn had seen the unmistakable uncertainty floating around. Her posture as she’d walked to the car had been stiff, her hands fidgety. Which was why he wasn’t pressing her for conversation. Why he hadn’t reached across the console to lace his fingers with hers. A thought that had him clenching his teeth. Her hands would be warm, soft.

She was attracted to him. Quinn had seen it from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. He felt the same way. But Quinn also saw her fighting it. Which each sharp intake of her breath when he was near, each step in the opposite direction of him, each time her gaze refused to stay focused on him. The attraction was there, but she was fighting it every chance she got. The question was why? He ached to have Piper’s full attention. His hands burned to touch her. His lips tingled to kiss her. Okay, maybe that was a little premature considering, but a guy could hope. The only question was, would she unfreeze long enough to give him a chance?

Quinn turned from the street onto a narrow paved road flanked by tall limestone walls. He heard Piper’s breath quicken.

“A graveyard?” Her head whipped around at the surroundings.

Once past the gate, old tall headstones jutted up from the ground, marking the final resting spots of hundreds of people. Ancient oak trees fanned out, their limbs looking more like twisted arms, bending and reaching over the graves to protect them. Several mausoleums dotted the horizon, their stained glass doors and windows glittering under the setting sun.

“You’re taking me on a date…in a graveyard?” Was her voice amused? Or angry? Quinn couldn’t quite tell. It was high-pitched and stunned, that was for sure. Her arms curled around her chest. “This is just…weird.”

He chuckled, swinging the car around a tight bend deep in the cemetery.

She scowled at him. “Why is this funny? This is not funny, Quinn.”

After a few silent beats trying to control the rumble of his own laughter, Quinn put the car in park near forest at the edge of the grounds. He pulled the hand that was clutched to her chest and rubbed it gently. He was surprised she let him even do that.

“Trust me?” he asked.

Her beautiful tendrils of hair bounced with a shaky nod. “I’m sorry…I haven’t been to a cemetery since…” Her breath came out in a rush. “Since my father died five years ago.”

Quinn mentally cursed himself for not considering she might have painful memories from a cemetery. He’d wanted to show her something different. Something that was beyond death. Something that could be learned from it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “We can go if you like.”

“No. No, you went to all this trouble to get me here.” She gave him a meek smile, glancing out the window at the preparations Quinn had made. “And it looks like you went all-out. I’ll be fine in a minute. This isn’t the same graveyard, so that helps.”

Well, that was a relief. Quinn sighed. “Thank you.” He slid out of the car and rushed around to open her door before she stepped out by herself. “After you,” he said as he took her hand and helped her to her feet.

Piper paused after Quinn shut the car door, continuing to eye the blocks of timeworn headstones, the perfectly manicured grass, and the trees which seemed to be locking hands around the edge of the cemetery.

“You okay?” he asked.

Piper nodded again, her eyes still skittering across everything. Her gaze halted at the gazebo tucked beneath a climbing rose bush, a little uphill from where they stood. She squinted, probably noticing the table, pillar candles, chairs, and food. Finally, she smiled. A real smile. A weight lifted from Quinn’s chest.

She gave him a sideways glance. “That the spot?”

He grinned. “That’s the spot.”

<<<<>>>>>

Okay, Piper was pretty sure this was the strangest date she’d ever been on. And this was the beginning, for crying out loud. But as Quinn held out his hand, she took it without hesitation. He steered her carefully through the graves, constantly brushing his thumb along her palm. It sent unwanted sizzles to all the right places.

A graveyard.
She still couldn’t believe she hadn’t gotten out of the car and bolted for the nearest exit. She hated graveyards. She only went when she was driving the hearse. Then she got out of there as fast as she could. People were buried there. They were decaying, along with their headstones and memories. Graveyards were not romantic. Not that she needed romantic with Quinn. Or even wanted it, for that matter. She guessed it was better that he’d chosen such an outrageous place because that would make it far easier to resist any advances. Not that a person could actually pull off
romantic
in a graveyard. Sheesh.

Once stopped on the single step to the rickety gazebo, Piper took in the scene. It looked better up close. Bursts of red and white roses scaled the side rails, creating a beautifully scented atmosphere. Candles were perched on pillars around the entire space. Dead center, there was a bistro table, the lace tablecloth looking brand-new. Two sparkling glass plates, one bottle of chilled wine…and no food. Piper chuckled.

Quinn’s grip on her hand tightened slightly. “What’s so funny?”

“No food.”

“Oh.” He gave sheepish grin. “Be right back.”

While waiting for him to return, Piper helped herself to a seat at the table, running her fingers over the intricate design of lace. The scene Quinn had set was indeed stunning; Piper had to admit that much. Even though they were at the edge of a graveyard, the atmosphere was homely, comfortable and, dare she say…a little romantic.

“Back. Sorry.” He jumped up the step, holding a picnic basket. “Dinner is served.”

She smiled at the childlike expression on his face. He shrugged, folding his tall frame into the tiny chair next to her. Together they filled their plates with expertly made finger sandwiches, wedges of gourmet cheese and fruit, and these amazing little crackers shaped to look like…she picked one up and studied it. There were names and dates on the tiny specimen.

“Is this what I think it is?” she asked, baffled.

His grin split wide. “You like it? I thought it was fitting.”

Piper snapped the cracker in two and tossed a piece in her mouth. Her taste buds fired with wonderful Italian herbs.

“I’ve never eaten a cracker that doubled as a headstone.” She cocked her head and regarded him carefully. “Did the same person who made these make that wonderful hearse cookie?”

“Yes.”

She licked the crumbs from her lips. Quinn dropped the cracker spread, and it clanged on the table.

“They were both excellent,” she said. “My compliments to the chef.”

“I have to admit it wasn’t me. I’m not that great in the kitchen. But Ma is.”

Piper snatched another delicious cracker. “Right. She’s the one who fed the mass of people at your grandpa’s house, right?”

“Right.”

“I didn’t get to meet her.”

Quinn took a bite of food, chewing and swallowing before answering. “You will.”

Piper gulped down the lump that formed in her throat from the way Quinn had said those words so certainly. “You didn’t have to go through all that trouble, you know. Store-bought cookies would’ve done the trick.”

A rumbling laugh rolled out him, his eyes glittering with mischief in the mix of low sun and candle light.

“You’re special, I guess,” he said on a sigh.

Her face went hot. She busied herself stuffing her mouth full of food so she wouldn’t have to say anything. After she finally thought she could control the ping-pong of sizzle, she spoke again. “Why the graveyard, Quinn? I think your tactic of asking me out alone was clever, but this…this has to be the strangest place I’ve ever had dinner with a man.”

His gaze caught hers. “Romantic?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

“Unforgettable?”

“Positively.”

He leaned back in his seat, studying her. “Then I’ve done well.”

She looked down at her empty plate, unable to stare at the strong features of his face. The twitch of his dimple when he smiled. The soft observation of his eyes. This really wasn’t turning out to be a total bust. And her resolve to not like him was quickly slipping through her fingers.

A hand appeared before her face. “Walk with me?” His voice caressed her senses. No other’s man voice had ever done that.

She looked up, feeling out of place with her inner electricity acting like he was the cure for the fire beneath her skin. That thought terrified her, but she wouldn’t tell him no. He’d gone to all this trouble. There was this churning feeling in her stomach, making her wonder if Quinn’s trouble was going to end up being her trouble, too.

Instead of following her instincts to put distance between them to quell the inferno she was feeling, Piper took his hand, reveling in the feel of his thumb caressing her wrist. Together they walked out of the gazebo, the grass squishing beneath their feet. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting shadows across the mossy headstones, and thankfully giving way to cooler temperatures.