Wicked Nights (19 page)

She dumped her bag on one of Cal’s desks and fished out a list. “I’ve got a short list of dive sites to

check out. My boat is gassed up and ready to go. So get your butt in gear, and we’ll be out of here.

Alternatively, feel free to drop out of the competition at any time, because I can handle it.”

“I’ll bet you can,” he said drily.

She met his eyes and found humor and—wait for it—a side of irritation. Too bad. He hadn’t suggested a

plan and she had. Since she appeared to be the only one with a viable one, they went with her idea.

“Maybe I’m busy right now.”

“I’ll survive,” Daeg tossed out. “If you and Piper have a prior date.”

They both turned and glared at him. Out of bed, this had to be the first time the two of them had ever

been in sync on anything.

“The ideas are great,” he said. “But you don’t get to waltz in here and decide our plan of attack.”

“I texted. You didn’t respond.”

“And you interpreted nonresponse as permission to do things your way?”

Well, yeah. The lines on either side of his nose got deeper, however, and she recognized that look as the

one Cal got right before he told her precisely why he disliked her current course of action and everything

that could go wrong.

And...bingo.

“Fiesta asked us to work together. That’s not code for ‘give me an ultimatum.’”

“You didn’t respond. I took charge.” She shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with that.”

“I do,” he gritted out.

“Then, you should have answered my texts.” She grabbed her bag and turned toward the door. “Move

it.”

She ignored the muttered curse behind her. He didn’t have to like it—or her—as long as he got his butt

in gear. He must have gotten the memo, because he fell in step with her.

“You’re going to be a pain in my butt, aren’t you?” He opened the door for her and she breezed through.

See? She could compromise.

“Probably,” she agreed. “Or, you can do things my way.”

“We did that Friday night.” He snagged his keys from the counter. “Now it’s my turn and I’m driving.”

* * *

drove today and they used his boat. The next time they went, they’d use hers. Piper actually hadn’t

protested much, and Cal suspected the reason for that was the flawless weather. After they’d gotten going,

she’d parked herself up front, soaking in the sunshine. She looked perfectly content, her sunglasses on and

a slightly grubby ball cap pulled low over her forehead.

Just when he thought she might be taking a catnap, she looked over at him. “So.
Dive Boat I?
”

He concentrated on guiding the boat out of the marina. Discovery Island’s mayor—the only person who

had run for the underpaid job last election—had tied up his hundred-foot motor yacht in such a way that

the expensive boat stuck out, making access to open water challenging. Either bad parking skills or a desire

to make sure everyone knew he’d bought a new boat, Cal had no idea which. “You don’t like the name?”

“It’s not a name. It’s a shortcut.”

She leaned back on her elbows, making herself at home. The narrow straps of her bikini top peeked out

from the edges of her T-shirt. She was wearing yet another pair of cutoff shorts and flip-flops. She’d toed

off her shoes as soon as she climbed on board and pulled her hair back in a ponytail, errant curls blowing

in the breeze. The other night, her hair had been spread out on her pillow, little strands tickling his nose and

his face. He didn’t want to be out here on the water with her. Nope. Where he really wanted to be was back

in her bed. Or his. He’d slept with his share of beautiful women, but she was different.

She waved her list at him again. “We’ll start with Pup Alley,” she said, naming a popular dive site where

sea lions and their pups were often spotted.

And not just because she was so stubborn.

“I’m driving the boat,” he pointed out mildly. “I pick where we go.”

“Right.” She pushed her glasses down and gave him a look. “I did Rose Wall earlier, so diving with the

sea lions is a nice site to pair with that dive.”

The breeze picked up over the water just enough to plaster her T-shirt against her body. Today’s bikini

was yellow with white daisies. And she was definitely cold.

No. Don’t go there.
Friday night’s hot sex had been an aberration. Getting him out of her system. That’s

what Piper had called it. And he was okay with that. She’d taken him to bed, had her way with him for one

wicked night, and now it was over. It didn’t matter if parts of him were interested in a repeat.

“Do you plan on asking me for my list?” He wondered if she’d admit she’d planned on commandeering

their joint project and choosing their sites for both of them.

“I can guess what’s on it. You’ve probably got three superdeep sites requiring four advance

certifications and a secret life as a military ninja.” She pushed her glasses up and lay back. “Tell me I’m

wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” he said promptly. “I’ve got four sites on my list.”

“Do you really think the Fiesta execs are going to be up for advanced dives?”

“Trust me. Ninja certification is not required.”

“Did you ask any of them if they were certified? Or what their comfort levels were?”

“I didn’t hear you ask them those questions,” he pointed out. “And I reviewed their logbooks.”

“My dives are easy.”

Unlike the woman sitting in front of him. Piper was the exact opposite of easy. She was prickly,

argumentative, and, yeah, he liked it. She kept him on his toes. She was also a whole lot of fun, starting

with the way she was ignoring him. Friday night had been amazing, and he still had his night in charge to

look forward to. Cal was fairly certain the entire island had spotted the chemistry between the two of them

by now. All through brunch on Saturday, his mother had dropped overt hints to bring Piper by for a family

dinner. “Soon,” she’d emphasized.

Since it was his boat and he had the wheel, overruling Piper wasn’t difficult. He let her talk and then he

laid in a course for Devil’s Slide anyhow. She lounged in the front of the boat, chattering away about

yesterday’s sites and the joys of swimming with sea lion pups (none of which Cal found particularly

convincing). Listening to her talk wasn’t a hardship. Her face lit up and she waved her hands around, as if

she was conducting an invisible symphony. The logical thing to do would have been to tell her where they

were really going, but he didn’t want the fight.

By the time they were halfway to Piper’s first site, however, his nerves were shot. All he wanted was to

turn the boat around and head back to the marina. He’d tried a quick phone call earlier in the day to see if

the Fiesta team would let him switch himself out for Tag or Daeg, but that approach had been a no-go.

Fiesta wanted to see him leading his program.

He wanted to see the same thing, probably more than anyone.

Piper looked back at him and grinned. Her sunglasses were covered with the spray the boat had kicked

up and she looked as if there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

“We’ve got a perfect day,” she called over the noise of the motor, sounding like she meant it. Of course,

she didn’t have any issues diving. In fact, if she knew what he knew, she might be smiling even wider

because he was going to lose. And she was going to win.

Think of this as a dry run, he told himself. It doesn’t have to be perfect—it just has to happen.

Suddenly too hot, he stripped off his T-shirt. Piper slid him a look from over her sunglasses that only

heated him up further.

Which was good.

Remembering their night together definitely took his mind off the upcoming dive. And...there it was.

Adrenaline punched through his body in a sickening rush. The chemical rush taunted him with visions of

failure as his head spun a thousand different scenarios in which he wasn’t able to do this.

The U.S. Navy SEALs trained a man to react well under pressure. Pressure like jumping fins first out of

a Blackhawk into stormy water or searching an enemy bay for underwater explosives. He’d done those

things and more, so he could handle one practice dive. He’d go under, and there’d be nothing lurking below

the surface, waiting to kill him. It would be just him and Piper.

Everything would be fine.

He inhaled. Exhaled. Repeated the process while he did his best not to drive the boat off course.

Piper accidentally rescued him. When the cliffs rose up in front of them and he throttled back to guide

the dive boat around the breakwater and into the sheltered cove, she knew exactly where they were. Or

weren’t.

She sat up. “This is not Pup Alley.”

It also wasn’t the marina, where he desperately wanted to be. “My turn,” he reminded her when she

eyed the site.
He hoped.

They both knew she hadn’t put this on her list. The site was known both for its difficult entry and

thrilling exit. Divers entered by jumping off the cliff. After that, things got deep, fast. There were plenty of

barracuda plus the occasional shark. After the dive, participants timed the incoming waves and rode one

over the rocky ledge to shoot into the sheltered cove. Chickening out of that ride meant a mile-long swim

around the breakwater. Cal had dived the site every chance he’d gotten on previous visits to the island.

She muttered something he didn’t catch, but he figured she’d bring up whatever it was again later.

Probably more than once. He bit back a smile.

Twenty minutes later, he wasn’t smiling, and the marina was definitely looking better and better. They’d

anchored the boat a few feet offshore, unloaded the gear and walked through the dive plan. The slog up the

path to the top of the cliff had taken far less time than Cal remembered, even with the necessity of loading

the dive tanks into the hand-cranked elevator running up the side of the cliff.

“Are you sure?” she asked, walking over to the edge and peering down. She didn’t look bothered by the

height or the difficulty of the dive he’d proposed. On the other hand, Piper could probably go face-to-face

with a shark and keep her cool.

The screaming of the gulls overhead had him on edge, almost as much as the relentless slap of the

waves against the rocks. No, he wasn’t sure. He also knew his nerves were a mental game his head was

playing with his body. And, when he looked over the edge at the churning water, he was pretty certain his

head was winning.

Piper backed away from the edge. Thank God. “After you,” she said.

He couldn’t.

His head kept running scenarios where she went under and didn’t come up, his heart pounding out an

alarm with each unwelcome image. If he couldn’t be there for her, if he couldn’t guarantee he’d see to her

safety then...he couldn’t dive.

“Piper.”

“Yeah?”

“I—” What did he say? How did he tell her that something bad had happened but he, conditioned SEAL

and expert diver, hadn’t been able to wrap his head around it? He looked at the surface, imagined going

under, and it was as though someone had cut the air to his brain.

“Come on.” She turned and strode back to the top of the path. Also known as the walk of shame. When

he didn’t immediately head down the trail, she stopped walking, waiting for him to catch up. Good thing

she hadn’t tried a wait-and-see move in the water, because he could admit to himself that he would have

failed her. If she’d had trouble, he wouldn’t have been there for her, and that bothered him even more than

his jacked-up head did.

He was pathetic.

“How’d it happen?”

He didn’t have to ask what the “it” was.

“One bad mission and now I can’t dive.” The words hung in the air behind them. “I can jump off the

cliff, but when I descend...it’s all shit.” He wasn’t sure what he expected her to do. She couldn’t fix this,

either, and it was his mess anyhow.

“I noticed.” When he risked a look at her, she didn’t look pitying—just accepting.

He scrubbed a hand over his head. Daeg and Tag certainly knew, as well. Apparently the Fiesta cruise

execs were the only ones who hadn’t gotten the memo.

“Maybe we can work through it.” She bumped her shoulder lightly against his.

“Some things can’t be fixed,” he said.
And some things had to be said.

“We’ll try.” She threaded her fingers through his and tugged him forward. Screw it. He let her.

“Not being able to dive is a pretty big liability for a dive master.”

The beach rose up before them as she murmured her agreement—and he was fairly certain she owed

her curse jar another round of quarters—and strode toward the water.

“Sit,” she demanded, dropping to the sand right above the waterline.

Since she didn’t let go of his hand, he followed. Okay, he was also curious to see where she’d take this

conversation and, since he wasn’t diving today, he had plenty of time. He sincerely doubted she could do

anything about his unwelcome phobia but he already knew Piper didn’t know the meaning of the word