Wicked Nights (26 page)

He could feel a stupid grin tugging at his mouth. “I’m not afraid.”

“Nope?” She moved down the street, and he steered his bike beside hers.

“You bet,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the engine. “The only thing I’m afraid of is that

you
won’t
put your hands on me.”

“Your place,” she suggested and took off. And, even though she went twenty miles over the speed limit,

he was right behind her.

* * *

most responsible thing she’d ever done, but she deserved some fun today. The strip of road hugging the

island’s coast was deserted, and she hadn’t gone over fifty. Much. She’d tried to race him into the house,

too, but he’d beaten her to the door. Of course, it was his front door and, Cal being Cal, he’d undoubtedly

locked it, but it was the principle of the matter. She’d gotten there first.

“Got you,” he’d announced in a thrillingly rough voice, slapping his hands down on either side of her

head. Cal in a playful mood was both new and sexy, so she hadn’t protested at all when he’d swept her off

her feet, opened the door and carried her down the hall to the bedroom. Instead, she’d suggested a second

race, to see who could strip down the fastest. She’d won
that
one.

The sun was setting now, painting fiery strips of orange and red over the ocean’s surface. She didn’t

want to move. He’d worn her out, but not before she’d put one hell of a smile on his face.

“Was that four—or five?” His smoky, gruff voice rumbled in her ear and she squirmed. She’d be happy

to up his count.

She pretended to think. “I had at least five. It’s not my fault if you got beat.”

“I’m a guy.” His hand cupped the back of her neck, his thumb rubbing a small circle against her skin.

He’d done the same thing elsewhere, and her body hummed just thinking about it. Cal had magic hands.

“We don’t recover as fast.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “Again, not my problem.”

“You’re a tough woman.” He dropped a kiss on her head and she snuggled in closer.

“I am glad for you.” It had to be said, and somehow it was easier like this. The room was getting darker

now as the sun slipped down behind the horizon. Even without lifting her head, she could just make out the

clothing scattered everywhere, along with most of the pillows from the bed. They’d made a mess.

He shifted, tugging her up until he could see her face. Of course, the position also meant she could see

his, which was no hardship.

“Good,” he said roughly. “I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

She stared at his familiar face. What did he want? Had he thought about where they went from here? He

was supposed to be a chemistry problem she worked through, not a permanent fixture in her life. And

yet...she couldn’t help wondering what-if.

“I need to tell you something,” he said.

And...cue the bad news.

“You’re married. You’re shipping out. You don’t
do
relationships.”

He bit out a curse.

“Now you owe me a quarter.”

“What kind of guy do you think I am?”

She shrugged and rolled off him. “I don’t really know you, Cal.”

“Tell me what you want to know.”

“Give me the bad news,” she countered.

He scrubbed a hand over his head. “Del is selling his half of your dive business. I made an offer. We’re

going to be partners, you and I.”

Over her dead body. Or his. Yeah. She liked the sound of that. “How long have you known?”

“Del accepted my offer right after the Fiesta dive.”

No way. “You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“You don’t like the idea.” He didn’t sound surprised—more resigned.

“Cal.” She stared at him. “The only place we don’t fight is in bed.

“You can’t have it all,” she said, jumping out of bed. “You should have told me.”

“Piper—” He didn’t know what to say.

“I’m done here.”

“You can’t just walk out on us,” he said. “I want this to work.”

“I like the sound of that.” And she did. Too much.

“I hear a but.”

Score one for him. “But you knew I wanted to own Dream Big and Dive. I told you that, and yet you

went ahead and bought Del’s half of the business anyhow.”

He sat up in bed, the sheet falling back to his waist. Part of her wanted to push him down and lose

herself in the way he made her feel. The rest of her, however, knew that at some point the hot sex would

come to an end and they’d have to work together. Live together. The sex wasn’t enough because

somewhere along the line, he’d made her want all of him.

“Del was going to sell anyhow,” he pointed out. She hated how calm and logical he sounded. “Aren’t I

better than a random stranger?”

“I don’t know how I feel about that. You didn’t ask me.”

“I’m asking now,” he said, his voice tight.

“After you bought in. It doesn’t count.”

“Make it count.”

He wasn’t the person who got to be angry here. He’d won the contract. He’d bought her business. In

fact, he’d had everything go his way and she had not. She wasn’t going to whine about it, but she
was
going

to do something about it. She got out of bed and started pulling on her clothes.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving.” Take that. “Don’t worry. I’ll lock the door on the way out. Or not.” She shrugged and

headed for the door. “I’m not the one who worries about thieves and evil villains.”

“Piper.” Her name was a growl. Sheets rustled, and his feet hit the floor with a thump. Screw being

dignified. She picked up her pace. She was done here.

15

IT TOOK THE rest of the morning for Cal to do the math. He’d done some swimming, followed by

some thinking. Then more swimming. He had the contract all to himself, and his hands were going to be

plenty full as he brought more former SEALs on board—but his place felt empty without her. Hell,
he
felt

empty. Piper had filled a void he didn’t realize he had.

When he gave in and went looking for her, Piper wasn’t at home, nor was she at the dive shop. Carla,

however, was, scrolling through pictures on her phone of their last dive.

He didn’t waste time with preliminaries. “Where is she?”

“Where is who?”

He wasn’t buying her sweet, innocent look.

“Your boss? The woman who signs your paychecks?”

“Funny,” she said, “I’d heard you were my new boss now.”

“Would that make you take orders from me?” A man could hope.

“Nope,” she answered, shooting him a saccharine smile. “Not in this lifetime.”

“You don’t want to know what I want with her?”

She shook her head. “The only thing that matters to me is what
she
wants with
you.
”

“I can work with that.”

“Are you going to chase after her and admit you screwed this all up?”

“I’m not apologizing for winning the Fiesta contract.” Never. Maybe?

Carla made a give-it-up gesture.

“But I should have told her about my offer to buy out Del’s share as soon as I realized what had

happened,” he admitted.

“Because?” she prompted.

“What is this, therapy hour?”

“Do you need it to be? You are a guy.” She eyed him appraisingly.

He had no idea what that meant. “And?”

“You need to tell her how you feel.” She held up a finger when he opened his mouth. “I’m sure you

believe your reasons for buying out Del are the best, but think about it from Piper’s perspective.”

“You feel very secure in your job,” he announced.

Carla beamed. “Piper and I go way back.”

He eyed her. This was Carla, after all. Good to know Piper had someone at her back, but nothing about

Carla made this easy. Or quick. “I’d like to
hear
her perspective. I’d also like to tell her a few things. Ask a

question or two.” He paused, then went for gold. “Please?”

“She’s taking the ferry over to the mainland.”

“She’s leaving?”

He turned and headed for the door.

“The ferry leaves in fifteen minutes,” she called after him. “You can fire me after you get her back.”

Yep. That was definitely gloating he heard in her voice.

16

CAL BROKE EVERY traffic law on his way down to the ferry dock. The side streets weren’t made for

speed, but he pushed eighty on the Harley. If he laid down his bike, he wouldn’t get there in time, but he

couldn’t bring himself to ease up.
Piper
was at stake here. He tried to imagine staying on Discovery Island

without her, and it wasn’t a pretty picture. He had no idea how it had happened, but he’d fallen for Piper

Clark.

Ten blocks. Two traffic lights, six stop signs and two four-way stops. And then he had the ferry dock in

his sights. The heavy boat rode low in the water, loaded up with cars. He was close enough now to make

out the tourists on the upper decks, chatting and laughing as they snapped their final photos of Discovery

Island. The ramp was still down and he breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t completely out of time. He

parked the Harley in a no-parking zone, so sue him—and vaulted over the turnstile.

“I’m not riding,” he hollered at Mary Beth, the woman working the ticket booth as he sprinted toward

her. “I need to talk to Piper and then I’ll be back.”

He’d known Mary Beth forever. The older woman and his mother were friends and members in the Red

Hat Society. Some of their antics scared the piss out of him. A spur-of-the-moment cruise to Cabo with

tattoos came to mind. Since Mary Beth and his mother talked, she probably already knew his business

anyhow, and could cut him some slack.

She flashed a thumbs-up as he barreled past and indeed seemed disinclined to call for security.

“Ten minutes,” she hollered after him. “That’s all you’ve got.”

He’d make ten minutes be enough time.

He sprinted onto the ferry, heart banging against his ribs. The ferry had two levels, plus the car hold. It

also had a gift shop and a snack shop, in addition to all the off-limits, personnel-only areas. Think, he told

himself. If you were Piper, where would you be?

The answer was immediate and obvious. She’d be up front where the riders felt the chop and half of

them ended up drenched from the spray. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only daredevil riding the ferry today,

and there were too many people to run, so he strode forward, bellowing her name. Heads turned as he

worked his way out onto the forward deck. Yeah. He’d apparently left his pride at the dive shop. Again, this

was Piper at stake. He was pretty much sure he’d do anything for her.

And...bingo.

Piper stood at the very front of the ferry, fingers wrapped around the guardrail. Thank God—he had an

immediate flashback to the summer she’d decided to reenact the
Titanic
and pretended to be the woman on

the masthead. Then, she’d stood on the railings—
on the outside
—her arms flung wide, hair blowing in the

breeze. It had been a testament to her sense of balance and the existence of guardian angels that she hadn’t

toppled off and been sucked under the ferry.

She was wearing the business-casual number she’d worn to her Fiesta presentation and the short white

dress drove him just as crazy today as it had then. She also had her earbuds in, so once again, she hadn’t

heard him bellowing her name. That was apparently going to be a pattern in their relationship. He’d deal

with it. He moved up behind her, wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged the earbuds free.

“Your music’s too loud.” Shit. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say at all.

She looked surprised to see him, which didn’t bode well. Then she glared down at his arm. “Let go.”

The ferry gave a deafening warning blast of its horn, and the pace picked up twenty feet away, down on

the dock. Fewer than ten minutes until departure. He had no idea how to explain.

“Cal?”

“Stay.” Okay, so his words had come out more order than request. Old habits died hard and she’d

probably make him work on his delivery.
If
he could convince her to stay.

“Excuse me?” Her head snapped up, her mouth opening in shock. Yeah. He definitely needed to work

on his delivery.

“With me, Piper. Stay with me. Don’t go.”

She shook her head. “That’s...” She inhaled deeply, her fingers tightening on the railing. “I’m not even

sure where to start.”

“Stay with me,” he repeated. Jesus. He had what, nine minutes? He should have prepared a speech. Run

through some words in his head instead of hopping on his bike and driving like a man mad.

“For how long, Cal? How well do you think we’d work together at Dream Big and Dive? You won. I

lost.”

“This isn’t about winning or losing.” He moved forward, trapping her between his body and the railing.

When she wriggled furiously, he wrapped a leg around hers. The move wasn’t nice, but he had only eight

minutes.

“The he-man routine isn’t working for me,” she warned.

“I’ll adjust,” he offered.

“Right.” She wriggled again, and he was pretty certain there would be at least a dozen pictures of them

on Facebook within the hour.

Her gaze roamed over his face, searching for something. He needed words, directions...a clue. Instead,