Authors: Justine Dell
Chapter Five
“Jessica?” Piper peeked out of her private office door, spying her secretary clicking away at the computer.
Her head shot up. “Yes?”
“Mr. Ryan will be stopping by today to finalize his wife’s arrangements.”
“I thought he already did that?”
Piper came all the way out into the foyer, sweeping her eyes around quickly to make sure no one else was there. She’d learned that lesson already. “We had, sort of. Then he made a decision to cremate his wife due to his ability to pay.”
Jessica’s young face pinched into a frown. “That’s sad.”
“That’s what I wanted to discuss with him. I hate to see his wife not get the funeral she deserves because of his financial situation.” Piper wasn’t made of money, but she did what she could when the time called for it. Her father had taught her that. This was one of those times. And there was always the foundation Quinn had mentioned. She didn’t have the details, but she could get them with a simple phone call. “He should be here any minute. When he arrives, could you please see him to the consultation room?”
“Of course.”
A knock at the front door made Piper swing her attention in that direction. She drew her brows together. “Who would be knocking? No one ever knocks.”
Jessica jumped up and scampered in her practical flats across the space of the foyer. It really shouldn’t be called a foyer. It was, after all, the same size as her entire apartment upstairs. It was an office, meet and greet, and sitting place all-in-one.
When the door swung all the way open, showing Quinn carrying a box wrapped in black paper and a silver bow, Piper’s breath rushed out.
Jessica giggled. “It’s for you,” she said with a sly grin.
Piper tried to roll her eyes, but quickly found she actually couldn’t. They were glued to Quinn. She’d only seen him in suit and tie, but today he looked…normal. Touchable. Dark washed jeans hugged his lean, long legs. A slightly ruffled forest green T-shirt made his eyes gleam. His short but curly hair looked a little mussy. The hairdo women wanted to run their fingers through.
“Good morning, Piper,” he said, taking one solid step across the threshold. “I hope this isn’t a bad time.”
Was his voice different? Deeper? Softer? Sexier?
Piper shook her hands at her sides before giving a tight smile and breezing toward him. “Good morning. To what do I owe this visit?” She eyed the box in his hands.
He dipped his head toward her, speaking low. “Is there someplace we could talk?” He glanced back at Jessica. “Alone?”
A frisson of excitement raced up her spine. No, it was panic. Wasn’t it?
“Sure.” She waved her hand to the consultation area to the right of the foyer. She waited for him to move, but he didn’t.
His eyes slid from her to the door. “Ladies first.”
She withheld her smirk. Chivalry wasn’t dead, after all. Taking controlled steps and hoping he wasn’t staring at her butt in her fitted skirt, Piper went first. Once inside, she spun about to face him. A soft gasp escaped her when she found herself nose-to-chest with him. Why had he walked so close to her? Didn’t he know anything about personal space? Before scurrying back a few steps, she inhaled his scent. The crisp, earthy aroma of his cologne made her knees wobble slightly. Maybe it wasn’t his cologne. Maybe that scent was just him.
One long step back and she looked him in the eyes. There was a bit of humor there.
Her gaze swung to the couch. Then the two separate chairs. Then back to the couch. “Do we need to sit?”
“No, this won’t take long.” His voice held a rasp of uncertainty. He held up the box to her. “This is for you.”
She stared at the glittering black box, speechless.
“Open it.” He pushed it into her limp hands. “Please?”
She mentally smacked herself.
Get it together, Piper. This is another regular man.
“Of course.” Her fingers wound around the bountiful silver bow, pulling the knot undone. The fabric snaked down and slithered to the floor. She popped off the lid to the box and eyed the contents. Next thing she knew, she was rolling with laughter. She sucked in a tight breath, trying to control her chuckles. Reaching inside the box, she pulled out her gift.
“A giant hearse-shaped cookie?” she asked, baffled. She had to admit, though, it was clever. And it looked yummy. “It has icing on it, chrome details and everything.”
Her eyes met his. His amusement was evident. “There’s more.” He yanked the little strips of white cushy paper from the box, showcasing another trinket in the bottom.
Piper almost busted out laughing again. She set the cookie on the nearest table and took out her second gift.
Her brows drew together as she flipped through the pages. “
Mortuary Confidential
?” She playfully scowled at him. “You bought me a book about how to live life outside of a mortuary?”
His grin was quick. “You looked like you needed it.”
“Is that so?” Her tongue rolled inside her cheek.
His expression remained the same, his eyes never leaving hers. “That’s so.”
He took the box from her hands, setting it down on the floor quickly, and closed the small distance between them. If she’d leaned forward, her face could touch his chest. Piper didn’t move back.
He spoke again. “I recommend you start immediately.”
Piper tamped down on the sudden urge to lean closer. “How?” she whispered.
“Dinner.” His fingers brushed across her cheek. “Friday.” His touch lingered on a stray tendril of her hair.
She was completely caught in his eyes, her stomach fluttering around like someone was doing a trapeze act in there. Attraction was normal for her. But her clammy hands, her thundering heart, and the threat of losing her lunch were not.
“Deal?” His breath washed over her face.
She wanted to suck him in. Drown in the essence of him. Again, not something she normally thought about in a possible lover. Boyfriends and anything of the sexual sort had been more of business arrangement for her. Business that was easy come, easy go. No feelings. Not really. No attachments. No hurt. But Quinn was different. She’d sensed that from the first moment she’d looked at him. He was captivating. Yet he didn’t realize how easily he commanded female attention. He was so intense, but without meaning to be. He was naturally confident and comfortable. Possibly not even knowing that his close proximity had ignited a million little fires in her belly. There was no way he could see that. Because if he did he would back off. Or take her right now on the floor.
“Piper?”
Cheese and crackers. Get a grip, woman!
“Yes?” Her voice came out choked.
One side of his lips curled into a devastating smile. “Yes? Friday? Six?”
She nodded numbly, aching to step away from the electricity flickering between their too-close bodies.
“Good.” He bent and kissed her cheek. Softly. Subtly. “I’ll pick you up here.”
She watched him go. Heard the door shut behind him. Several long moments passed before Piper finally thought her heart started beating again.
<<<<>>>>>
Quinn, normally a reserved man, felt strangely confident as he cruised down the steps of the funeral home. The look in Piper’s eyes when she’d opened the box was far more than he’d expected. He’d actually surprised her. And when she’d laughed—
God
—what an amazing sound. Her professional exterior had slid away for the briefest of moments, allowing him to see the spark that lay beneath. A spark he found a deep need to kindle even more.
He stopped short, remembering that he’d brought something else over for Piper as well. He turned about and headed back up the steps.
He didn’t knock this time. He waltzed right in, stopping as soon as he saw Piper. She and Jessica stood dead center in the foyer, their backs to him. Clutched tightly in her hands were the cookie, a notable size chunk missing, and the book he’d given her. They were mumbling about something. Probably his gifts.
“God, this cookie is
so
good.” Piper’s voice was soft, sweet. She followed up that comment with a few good low moans. God. Quinn, could picture her making those same noises at night. In the dark. With him. Which was a completely inappropriate thought to have at that moment.
He cleared his throat, and both girls swung around. Piper’s eyes went wide, her cheeks flush. Jessica only smiled mischievously. Piper’s gaze swung from Quinn to Jessica and back again. She did that a lot. He wondered if she had a hard time focusing on him. Did she really have a need to divert her eyes—her attention—to something else each time he was around? And if so, why?
“Sorry to interrupt, Piper.” He crossed the room and stopped in front of her. “I wanted to make sure I gave you the information regarding the foundation…in case you needed for anything.”
Piper swallowed her mouthful of cookie. Quinn wanted to chuckle. “Good. Thank you. I was going to call you about it.”
He held out a black folder, which she took after setting the
Mortuary Confidential
book on the reception desk. “All the information is in there. There’s one simple form for someone to fill out to get help.”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll be sure to bring this wonderful cause to any needy client’s attention.”
“Wonderful.” He leaned in, enjoying the surprise on her face when he placed yet another gentle kiss on her cheek. “I’m looking forward to Friday. See you then,” he whispered.
“Yes,” she responded. It suddenly sounded like she was out of breath. He eased back, glancing down at the cookie that was crumbling beneath her tight grip.
“Bye, Piper.”
Quinn left her standing in the foyer, mouth open, and continued to grin as he bounded out to his car. There truly was something innocent about Piper. Something that her stunned facial expressions hid. Something that her fidgety body movements hinted at. Yes, there was something amazing about Piper. Quinn could hardly wait to get to know her better.
<<<<>>>>>
Piper finished up with Mr. Ryan, amazed at the grieving man’s change in demeanor after she had given him the information about Quinn’s foundation. Instead of being sad, the aging man was hopeful, blissfully so. Instead of having to settle for something he knew he and his late wife didn’t want, he was given the opportunity to show her love, even in death.
Piper allowed herself a small smile as she returned to the funeral home from escorting Mr. Ryan back to his car. It was amazing what little acts of generosity could do. And Quinn had given Mr. Ryan a lot of generosity.
Her brow furrowed as she stepped back into her office, filing away the details of Mrs. Ryan’s funeral. She suddenly realized that she didn’t know anything about Quinn’s family. How was it they managed to create a fund that paid for funerals? And what kind of a family did that kind of thing? She brushed a wild hair from her eye. The kind of family that celebrated death, she imagined. She would really like to know the family’s philosophy behind death Quinn had spoken about briefly. She’d have the chance to ask him in less than twenty-four hours. Her heart kicked up a notch. That was when her date was.
Shaking off the unnerving feeling, Piper made her way down to the bowels of the funeral home. She’d had two intakes the night before and two funerals later that day. Her work never stopped. Margo, her other embalmer, only worked the evening shift. She could pick up bodies, but Piper preferred to handle all the phone calls herself. Once in the preparation room, she acted on autopilot, fashioning a middle-aged woman in a crisp pink suit and touching up her afterlife makeup one more time. She then prepared a teenager in what looked to be his most comfortable clothes: a basketball T-shirt and jeans. Glancing at her wristwatch, she realized she’d have to wait another hour until Margo arrived before they could place the deceased in their respective caskets. Piper couldn’t do it alone.
Both families had insisted on no visitation prior to the service, which meant Piper didn’t need to move the bodies to their eternal homes until the night before their funeral service. Piper didn’t question their judgment. It was after all, the living’s decision as to what respects to pay their loved ones. And how.
That thought made her mind drift back to Quinn. For the first time in her life, she found herself enthralled to learn more about the grieving process—theirs in particular. Normally she detached herself from that as much as possible. She offered and gave what was needed to the clients, but always remained detached, herself. It was how she was able to handle the teenage boy on her preparation table. And the middle-aged housewife who had left behind three small children. Thinking about their lives—their deaths—would prohibit her from focusing. If she allowed herself to be crippled with grief each and every time she saw death, Piper would have crumbled long ago. And yet, watching Quinn’s family almost triumph in death made her wonder things she’d never wondered about before. An image of Quinn’s bright eyes flashed across her vision. What was it about him that made her palms twitch?
Maneuvering around the two people who were ready, Piper headed to the embalming room. Within minutes she had put on her plastic apron and gloves, and was flipping through the intake files she’d received from the county morgue.