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Authors: Erin McCarthy

Seeing is Believing (24 page)

BOOK: Seeing is Believing
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“I miss you,” he told her simply as he stared down at her.

Piper swallowed hard. Her voice was hoarse, tight. “I miss you, too.”

“See, the thing is, Piper, nobody is perfect. I think there probably isn’t a person alive who is totally and completely done growing and changing as a human being. So I don’t see any reason why you and me can’t do that growing and changing together.”

He figured he had about three and a half minutes left of this dance, and he wanted to just get down to it. He was in love with Piper and he was going to tell her before the night ended.

Staring up at Brady, her hands on his waist as they made a halfhearted attempt at dancing, Piper wanted to cry. After she’d broken things off with him so unceremoniously, in a five-minute conversation on the front porch, he still wanted to be with her. After two months apart, and countless flirty girls in the coffee shop, he was here, with her. Her counselor had told her that it was normal for her to doubt the sincerity of people’s affection for her, that she needed time to establish trust given her early years, and she supposed that was true. All she really knew was that she loved Brady, she missed him, and she’d have to be the stupidest woman on the face of the earth to say no to what he was offering.

“I don’t suppose there is any good reason why we can’t.” She felt a surge of love for him. God, he was so amazing. A man, not a boy. He had never once played a game with her or been anything other than totally honest.

“For real?” He looked astonished.

That made her laugh. “Yes.”

“Well, shit, that was easier than I thought. I still have a good two minutes left to this cheesy song. I was planning to use the whole thing to talk you into being with me.”

“I don’t need to be talked into it. I’m sorry I got scared.”

“It’s okay, babe. But the thing is, if you get scared of the dark, you don’t need to hide under the bed. Just tell me and we’ll turn on the light together, okay?”

Oh, now she was going to cry. She nodded furiously because she couldn’t speak.

“I don’t have to move into the house. We can take it slow. Gran is tolerating me well enough for now. When push came to shove and I was homeless, she gave me a room.”

“We can play it by ear, do whatever feels right.” Piper shook her head, in awe that it was that easy. That here they were. “This feels right. I was so miserable without you but I thought it was the best thing for you.”

“I know what’s the best thing for me, and that is you.” Brady bent over and brushed a soft kiss over her lips. “I’ve missed your lips. Let’s go behind the garage and make out.”

Piper laughed. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. No one can see us back there.”

She surprised herself by saying, “Okay.”

She’d shocked Brady twice in two minutes. His eyes widened. “Hell, yeah. Perfect timing—the song is over.”

Pulling her by the hand off the dance floor, Brady led her past a half dozen people, who all noted their hands clasped together. Piper didn’t care. She didn’t blush or demur or feel like a teenager sneaking off. She felt like an adult, like a woman who made her own choices. Her mother was sitting on her father’s lap, looking a little drunk given all that hair flipping, but despite having his hands full, her dad definitely noticed who she was with, and he just nodded to them.

“I’m sure Danny is going to be thrilled about this,” Brady said.

“Actually, he probably will be just fine. We came to an understanding that I’m an adult.” He would be there for her no matter what. She knew that, trusted it. He just wanted her happy.

“Excellent.”

They cut around behind a jumbo pine tree and darted behind the garage. Only to almost run into a teen couple doing just what they wanted to be doing.

“Oh, shit, looks like someone beat us to the punch,” Brady said, clearly amused.

The teens sprang apart and Piper almost croaked. It was Shelby’s son, Zach, and Georgia, Charlotte and Will’s daughter.

“We were just . . .” Zach tried to feebly explain, before giving up. “Don’t say anything to my parents, okay?”

“We won’t say anything,” Brady reassured him. “Just remember that her daddy is sheriff, though. He carries a big gun.”

Even in the moonlight, they could see Zach’s face blanch. Georgia was staring at the ground, her hair disheveled.

“Got it,” Zach muttered, and the two shuffled off.

Piper shook her head. “Good Lord. I still think of Zach as being a kid, and Georgia even more so. I watched them both when they were babies.”

“Face it, Tucker, you’re old,” Brady told her.

Laughing, she smacked him in the chest. “Hush. And if I’m old, guess what that makes you?”

“Damn, you’re right. Old enough to know better.”

“Better than what?” Piper let Brady pull her into his arms.

“To know that I shouldn’t lure a girl off behind the garage.”

He kissed her, and Piper sighed. She had missed him more than she had even realized. The feel of him against her, despite her coat and his sweatshirt, was perfect. The kiss was deep, true, passionate, filled with all their pent-up emotions.

“You taste like whiskey,” he whispered, hugging her tightly. “Has my grandmother been fixing your drinks?”

As a matter of fact. “Yes. I had two sips and I swear I started slurring my words.”

“She should be banned from bartending.” Then he shook his head. “But what the hell am I doing talking about Gran? I brought you here to make out, yes, but also because I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

Piper sucked in a quick breath. Her heart swelled. Her lip started to quiver. His expression was so sincere, so earnest, so matter-of-fact. She had never heard anything more beautiful. Just three simple words that meant everything.

“I love you, too. I’ve always loved you,” she whispered. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve always known I was meant to be with you.”

Brady’s throat felt so tight he was going to need a crowbar to pry it apart to swallow. But he managed to say, “Damn, I wish someone had told me. Could have saved myself some trouble.” He was only half kidding. The path he’d taken to get here was more than a little potholed.

Piper smiled. “Where would the fun be in that?”

“Did you cut your hair?” he asked suddenly, realizing that whereas before her hair had skimmed the bottom of her rib cage, as he held her now it seemed just a little shorter.

She nodded. “Two inches. Nearly killed me. But I did it.”

“It always looks beautiful. You look beautiful. Why would you love me?” he asked her in all seriousness, having a moment of doubt. She was so . . . special. Why was he entitled to her?

Cupping his cheeks with her hands, she gazed into his eyes. “‘When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine, That all the world will be in love with night, And pay no worship to the garish sun.’”

Piper kissed him softly. “You have a beautiful heart that is as bright as those stars above us in my truck. I have always seen that.”

Brady knew that he was going to spend the rest of his life trying to live up to the trust in those words. He had never understood how falling in love would be so much bigger than himself, that he would care more about someone else than about himself. It should have been obvious, but he had never gotten it until that very moment, and he kissed Piper back, his hands on her waist pulling her as close as four layers of clothes would allow.

Her lips were soft and pliant, and he closed his eyes and gave in to everything that he was feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, kissing her over and over between his words. She smelled like bonfire and whiskey and sweet country air, and he knew that as soon as this party started winding down, they were going back to her place.

“For what?” Piper opened her eyes and stared up at him, guileless and open.

“Sorry that I’m broke and basically homeless.” It wasn’t exactly a pretty package at the moment.

“I don’t care about your bank account. And stop insulting the man I love.”

Brady laughed. Then he picked her up and squeezed her so hard she squealed.

Gasping and laughing, she said, “You’re crushing me.”

“I did strike a deal with some of the local antique shops to carry my work. We’ll see if anyone actually buys it.” If he made enough to pay for the paint, he was happy.

“Really? That’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you.”

She was. He could see it. Brady dug into his pocket. “So I got something for you a while back. I saw it and I thought of you.”

“What is it?” she asked, eyes wide with anticipation.

“I’ve been carrying it around this whole time. Guess that makes me a little pathetic. I prefer to think of it as being romantic.”

“What is it?” she asked again.

Brady drew the moment out just a few seconds longer. “Well, it’s not a poke in the eye.”

She was about to smack him again, but he caught her off guard by holding up the ring in front of her.

“Oh, my God,” Piper breathed, taking it and turning it around and around to study it, stunned by his gift.

She started crying, tears blurring her vision. “Brady,” she breathed, started to choke on her tears. He had gotten her a pewter ring that was shaped like a butterfly, the gems in its wings a perfect match to the purple of her childhood bedroom.

“My plan was to tell you that I love you, then ask you to marry me. I thought this ring suited you more than a fancy diamond. It’s delicate and feminine and it’s not traditional, but I thought you’d like it. You don’t have to wear it, and—shit, I’m just going to shut up now.”

She was sobbing. She couldn’t help it. “I love it,” she managed to blubber, hugging him tightly, letting the feel of him, the smell of him, wash over her so that she would always remember this moment.

“But that was before that night, so even if it doesn’t make sense for me to propose right now, I still want you to have it.” He wiped her tears off her cheeks. “It’s been like carrying a piece of you with me, but now I have the real deal.”

He just made it worse, in the best way possible. She just cried harder, then she shoved the ring back at him. “Do it.”

“Do what?” he asked, bewildered, enclosing his fist around the ring.

“Propose to me.”

“What? Are you serious?”

Oh, hell, yeah, she was serious. “Yes, I’m serious. And in case you’re wondering, I’m going to say yes.” Maybe it was crazy, and maybe she was jumping way ahead, but she knew how she felt and that wasn’t going to change. They didn’t need to get married tomorrow, but she wanted to hear him ask.

Brady grinned. “Well, alright, then.” He held the ring up, and what she saw on his face quieted her tears. It was such a look of total certainty, Piper saw him by her side fifty years down the road. “Piper, will you marry me?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

Then he put a ring on it.

Chapter Sixteen

“ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DO THIS?” BRADY ASKED
Piper. She looked pale. Hell, he wasn’t sure he wanted to do it.

But she nodded. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“Okay, then.” He turned to Bree. “Should I go somewhere else?”

“No.” Bree handed her baby to Shelby, who was watching with a baleful expression. “You’re integral to the unrest these spirits feel.”

Brady rocked on his feet in front of the fireplace at Shelby and Boston’s and tried to think whether there was anything particularly intelligent about allowing his fiancé to harness a spirit. Nope. Not smart at all. But Piper wanted to do it.

“So you think just by the accident of my name I became connected to the spirits here?”

Bree was burning some smelly herb all around the parlor. Brady wondered whether the baby needed to be taken into the kitchen. He’d be happy to volunteer. That stuff didn’t seem great for a baby’s lungs, and he didn’t really want to be here.

“Your name, and the fact that Piper is a medium. The universe chose you two for each other, and to release the original Brady and Rachel from their bonds here on earth, in this house.”

Brady was an open-minded guy, but sometimes Bree made his bullshit meter go off. But given that he had seen what he had with Piper, he figured he couldn’t really dispute any of it. He and Piper had been together again for three months and he accepted her for who she was, and the truth of it was, she saw dead people. He was just glad she’d finally come to terms with it and had stopped trying to hide it. It wasn’t something she advertised, because most parents of kindergartners wouldn’t want to hear their kid’s teacher talked to ghosts. But Bree had taught Piper how to gently but firmly tell them when they needed to give her privacy.

For the most part, it hadn’t been an issue. The house on Swallow seemed empty of anything other than their own vibe, which was a happy and sexy one, he was grateful to say.

“If it wasn’t for Rachel, you and Piper probably wouldn’t have gotten together,” Shelby said. “I could say the same for me and Boston.”

Brady thought he and Piper were together more because she had dropped her robe and they’d had sex on Shelby’s bed, but he wasn’t about to share that.

“I think I always knew Rachel was innocent,” Piper said.

“So you believe the doctor’s report Brady found?” Bree asked.

Piper nodded. “Absolutely.”

“I think so, too.” Given all that bogus reporting, Brady was way more inclined to trust the doctor than the Keystone cops who had investigated Brady’s murder. “So what exactly are we trying to do here?”

“Bring them both into the room at the same time, so they can see each other. It might bring them peace. At the very least, we can tell Rachel we know she didn’t do it.”

Figuring he might be needed to protect Piper from flying objects, Brady stayed, but he really wanted to make off with the baby like Shelby was doing.

“I’ll be in the kitchen with Iona if you need me.”

Piper saw Brady studying Shelby’s retreat with a fair amount of longing, and she was grateful that he was willing to stick it out. Not every man would tolerate a woman who was a ghost magnet.

Bree had prepped her on the spells they would be speaking. She didn’t consider herself Wiccan or a witch, but she trusted Bree, who had become a mentor of sorts to her, reassuring her that she was in fact completely normal, just more aware than others.

The candles were lit and Piper closed her eyes and murmured, visualizing both Rachel and Brady in the same place, standing next to each other. The Blond Man and Red-Eyed Rachel, facing each other for the first time in one hundred and twenty years. Expressing their love for each other. How would she feel if Brady were taken away from her?

It would be a physical pain. It would be agony, like losing an arm or a leg. She would survive, but she would be damaged. Just the thought made her melancholy. Since Shelby’s party, she and Brady had been happier than she could have dared to hope for. He’d won her parents over by proving himself a hard worker and very loyal to her and to his family. If that was suddenly taken away from her? When she’d just started to be able to enjoy it?

That was Rachel’s pain, and Piper felt immeasurable sympathy for her.

She sensed it was time to open her eyes.

There they were. Both of them. Standing in front of the fireplace, their spirits more opaque than usual, as if they were afraid to fully appear, afraid it wasn’t real. Brady’s hand stretched out for Rachel.

A shiver rolled up Piper’s back. “He says he loves her,” she whispered, not hearing the words, but reading them off his lips as he spoke.

Her heart broke even more for them as she felt like she was watching an incredibly private exchange.

Rachel’s sigh was so pronounced, Piper felt her own skirt swirl around her boots from the sudden breeze. Then Rachel mouthed the words back to her fiancé, her hand lifting to touch his, palm to palm.

Then they were gone. There was no sign that they had ever been there, and Piper turned to Bree. “They’re gone. Is that permanent?” Part of her was relieved for them, and yet part of her suddenly felt like she was going to miss them.

“I don’t know, honestly,” Bree said. “I don’t feel them anymore. What’s this?” She bent over the fireplace. “This just fell down from the chimney.” She brushed some ash off the object and unfolded it and frowned. “Do you know what this is?”

She held it out and Piper took the paper. It was yellowed, a page torn from a decade-old sketchbook. “Oh, my God,” she breathed, her hand starting to shake. “Brady, look at this.”

“What?” He leaned over her shoulder to see. “Holy crap.”

It was Rachel and the Blond Man, standing right in front of this very fireplace, smiling, standing close to each other, Brady’s arm crooked to allow Rachel to rest her hand there. Piper knew without a doubt that it was a sketch the current Brady had done. But she turned it over just to confirm what she already knew.

“By B. Stritmeyer,” Brady read, tracing his fingers over his own signature. “As described to him by Piper Danielle Schwartz Tucker.”

“I remember this now,” Piper said, a lump in her throat. “It was the first time I used the last name Tucker. I was kind of trying it on for size, wanting it to be mine.”

“Now you’re really going to have a hell of a name when we get married,” Brady said, teasing her. “Double hyphen and everything.” But he also took her hand in his, like he understood how hard that had been for her. “I don’t remember sketching this specifically. I remember doing a half dozen ghost images for you.”

“I have the others,” she admitted. “I kept them. But I haven’t seen this one in years. I’d forgotten about it.”

“That’s a crazy coincidence,” Brady said, feeling under the fireplace mantel. “Why was it in here? Who put it there?”

“There are no coincidences. Only a design whose pattern we don’t recognize. I don’t think we can dismiss that you were assaulted right here by a duplicitous woman, just like the first Brady. Fortunately, your story has a better ending.” Bree blew out her candles. “I’m going to check on Iona and Shelby.”

“Sometimes she scares me just a little,” Brady said, watching Bree retreat.

Piper laughed. “I think she has a point.”

“What, that ours has a happy ending? I’ll absolutely agree with that.” Brady folded the sketch back up and put it in his pocket. He took her left hand and ran his fingers over her engagement ring. “Want to go home and add another page to your diary?”

The diary was still fictional, but the desire never was.

Piper nodded. “I thought you’d never ask.”

BOOK: Seeing is Believing
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