Wicked Nights (18 page)

were there, home from college for the summer. His third sister was in Paris, practicing her French. Or, at

least, he hoped she was practicing her French and not meeting sexy French men. Luke, his baby brother,

was home on leave from the U.S. Army Rangers. It promised to be a loud, boisterous, fun brunch.

They liked Piper. They liked her family. No one would have questioned her presence, although they

might have wondered how he and Piper had arrived together without killing each other. Their spats were

family legend, as were the paybacks and practical jokes.

His mother was in the kitchen when he arrived. After popping the requested juice into the fridge, he

went up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and dropped a kiss on her cheek.

“You took your time getting here.” She was smiling when she said it, so he wasn’t in trouble yet.

“And yet I still have first dibs on the bacon.” He reached around her to snag a crispy strip from the stack

on the plate. She’d already fried at least two pounds of bacon, and there was a roll of paper towels

conveniently close by to clean up the carnage. Those were the perfect ingredients for a Saturday morning.

He thought about Piper going without bacon and decided it was her loss. He’d wanted her to come, but

she’d turned him down.

He kind of wished she were here. Piper and bacon on a Saturday morning would be even better. His

mother smacked his hand away from the plate but not before he’d snagged two more pieces. He took his

prize and leaned against the counter.

“I’d make bacon for you on other mornings. It doesn’t have to be a Saturday-morning exclusive,” she

grumbled.

“It tastes better on Saturdays?” Plus, he didn’t need to kill himself. Too much of a good thing wouldn’t

help when he had to swim five hundred yards in twelve minutes. But this was bacon and exceptions had to

be made.

She hummed her agreement and poured pancake batter onto her griddle. He crunched his way through

the bacon, considered stealing a fourth piece, then washed his hands and moved next to her to chop

potatoes. He knew the deal.

“How’s work? Did you get your contract?”

The status of said contract was a popular question. “When we get the Fiesta contract, I’ll be able to

expand. I’ve got feelers out on adding a new location. It would be good to keep the command center

separate from our gear, and I want to bring on some other guys getting out of the service.”

She deftly flipped a pancake onto the growing stack. His siblings ate enough for an entire SEAL unit.

“You’re sure about landing the deal?”

He grinned. “It’s down to us and Dream Big and Dive. We’re going to win.”

She poured a new batch of pancakes. “That’s Piper Clark’s place, right?”

“Yep.” He slid the potatoes into a free pan. “She’s running a place down on the boardwalk.”

“How is Piper?”

He’d bet his mother had seen Piper at least once this week. The island simply wasn’t that big, and he

made a mental note to check his mother’s Facebook page—and the ultimate source of island gossip—soon.

If his mother had proof he and Piper were together (and while they weren’t
together,
they weren’t not

together, either), she’d post the news for everyone to read.

“Piper’s fine,” he said carefully, not wanting to give the game away.

Better than fine.
The memories of last night were the forever kind of memories. Piper in bed was

spectacular. This morning had been pretty great, too, right up until the moment when she’d kicked him out.

He’d liked sharing a cup of coffee with her. When they weren’t fighting, she was great company.

“Uh-huh.” His mother’s snort of laughter said it all. “How many fights have the two of you had so far?”

He counted. Zero, zip and
nada.
No fights in the past twelve hours had to be a record. Apparently the

one place he and Piper agreed was in bed.

“We’re not so bad.”

His mother eyed the bubbles forming in the center of the pancakes and teased up the edge of one with

her spatula. “You’re worse. The two of you are like oil and water. Whatever one does, the other takes issue

with.”

“She’s stubborn. She always wants to do things her way.”

“And you don’t?”

“Aren’t you supposed to take my side?”

“If you want unconditional love, get a dog.”

“Isn’t this where you segue into the speech about finding a girl and settling down?”

“Piper’s still single.”

Danger.
“And you just pointed out that she never agrees with me about anything. A lack of consent is

going to make the I-do part of the wedding ceremony difficult.”

He had a quick mental image of Piper getting married. She wasn’t a big, puffy gown kind of person—

he still shuddered when he remembered his sister’s dress—but he could see her barefoot on the sand in

something simple and short. She’d look good. Not, of course, that he had any business imagining Piper

getting married. Whoever the guy was who took her on, he’d probably take issue with last night’s

shenanigans. Plus, Cal wasn’t ready to give her up yet.

“It doesn’t have to be Piper, although she’s a nice girl. Settling down is a good thing.”

“And it comes with fringe benefits,” announced a throaty female voice behind them. Allie always

enjoyed teasing him about marriage, probably because she’d met her own match in college. If Cal ever had

daughters, he was sending them to an all-girls school. In the middle of nowhere. She and Dan had gotten

married last year up in Napa. Cal didn’t know much about weddings, but the winery had been busting out

all over in flowers and his sister had glowed. Plus, they’d thrown a reception in the wine cave, and while he

was more of a beer guy, he’d discovered that the right Pinot Noir was a beautiful thing.

Allie patted the small bump in her middle. His sister hadn’t wasted any time in procreating. “I’m

winning this race.”

“And I don’t recall entering.”

She shrugged. “You’ve never seen a race you didn’t want to win.”

True.

“She’s right.” His mother passed Allie the platter heaped with pancakes. It was possible the food

outweighed her. It definitely outweighed the baby bean. “She’s going to give me my first grandchild. You

need to catch up.”

“Nice try,” he said and picked up the plate of bacon. The plate was going right by his own place at the

table.

“I do what I can.” His mother shrugged modestly. “But Allie’s still winning.”

Allie winked and headed for the dining room. “Which means you’re batting for the losing team,” she

called over her shoulder.

“You give the rest of the family this much of a hard time?”

His mother’s grin said it all. He knew she loved him. Of course, she also wanted to love a few

grandchildren, at least a half dozen, and he hoped to God that number covered the whole clan, because he

didn’t see himself having six kids. He knew his limits. Plus, his baby momma would probably collapse

from the shock of raising so many Brennans. She’d need to have nerves like Piper’s to take his family on.

“I’ve got high hopes for you,” she said, and he snorted.

“Hope all you want, but I’m not producing a ring. I’d need to be dating first.”

He didn’t know what this thing between him and Piper was but...it wasn’t dating.

His mother brushed past him as he held the door open with his shoulder. She paused and inhaled

dramatically. “Apples. Very nice.”

Busted.

* * *

USUALLY, PIPER ENJOYED Saturday afternoons. She went for a swim. She cleaned the house and

picked out recipes for all the meals she wouldn’t actually cook in the coming week. Today she was restless,

though, so she extended her time in the water. Cal had gone off to his family brunch, and she’d hook up

with him the day after tomorrow. For
work,
she reminded herself. They weren’t dating or hooking up in any

kind of romantic fashion. Discovery Island was a small place in more ways than one. Once the gossip

paired them together, things would get sticky. The FBI had nothing on her neighbors when it came to

ferreting out information.

Discovery Island might be in the Pacific Ocean, but it was no Tahiti. The water never warmed up above

sixty-eight degrees, and in another month, she’d be risking hypothermia if she so much as stuck a toe in

without a wet suit on, but Piper had always loved swimming with the sea lions that gathered just off the

island’s northern coast. There might also be a small chance of running into a shark hunting for dinner, but

she’d take that. Endearingly awkward on dry land, the sea lions were all sleek power as they drilled through

the water.

“Give me a heads-up if you spot a shark, okay?”

She’d already borrowed her quota of trouble for the day.

The sea lion next to her barked, and she decided to take the noise as an affirmative.

The sun was out, lighting up the water and the kelp forests beneath her. She turned back after a half

mile, mentally waving goodbye to her sea lion pals. They’d head over to a patch of rocks another mile away

and then pull themselves out to sun the afternoon away. Sea lions definitely had the right ideas.

She somersaulted lazily in the water, traveling underwater until her air ran out and she burst to the

surface. Her pace wasn’t competitive, but it felt good. When she reached her beach and waded out, her

muscles burned, tired in a good way.

Mission accomplished. She’d be able to button her jeans this week.

She padded back to the house, rinsing off her feet with the garden hose before going inside. Tracking

sand everywhere when she was ten and didn’t have to clean it up herself was one thing. Now she was in

charge of the Hoover, she was more careful.

Her place was warm and cozy in the early-afternoon sunlight. She could feel a book and a nap

beckoning. And...she smelled bacon? She wouldn’t have overlooked bacon, and she knew to an item the

sad state of her pantry.

She followed her nose into the kitchen.

Someone had left a covered plate of food on her counter, clearly the source of the bacon goodness

filling her house. When she popped off the tinfoil, she discovered bacon, muffins, crispy slices of ham and

a slice of chocolate cake as out of place as it was welcome.
Oh, yeah.

She read the note and smiled.

Lock your door, Piper....

Her navy rescue swimmer definitely had a soft side, after all.

11

PIPER HATED NOT pulling her weight. So since the mountain—the mountain here being Mount

Brennan—didn’t come to Piper on Monday, she went to the mountain. She barged through the door of

Deep Dive, carrying a messenger bag stuffed to the gills with notes, dive-site descriptions and her laptop.

Tag was manning the counter. “He’s in the command center,” he said without looking up from his

laptop.

Apparently word had gotten around about their partnership. Hopefully, that was all it was, because

she’d decided the best way to handle her hookup with Cal was to pretend publicly that it hadn’t happened.

Business first, bedroom second. If she was looking forward to her next night with Cal, well, no one else on

the island needed to know
that.

She went around the counter, opened the door to the backroom and—holy moly—stepped into an

entirely different world. She’d assumed “command center” was a male euphemism for “place where we

keep all our toys” or “fancy name to make ourselves feel important.” Nope. Cal really had built a command

center. Floor-to-ceiling monitors displayed the latest weather information and all sorts of interesting dots

and blips. A bank of computers and screens took up most of the floor space.

Cal and Daeg were bent over a screen at the far end.

“Are you planning to take over the world?” It actually appeared to be a viable option.

Daeg grinned. “Are you volunteering to assist?”

“It looks like you’ve got it covered.” They stocked some serious hardware.

Cal straightened up and came over to her. She wasn’t sure if she should stick out a hand, slap him on

the back, like one of the guys, or French kiss him. He looked tired, though, so she decided to cut him some

slack. Or going easy on him could have had something to do with how his big, suntanned body looked in a

ragged T-shirt and another pair of white-at-the-seams blue jeans. He wore his usual steel-toed boots, as

well, which was a look that definitely worked for her.

“What do you want, Piper?”

“Hello? Joint presentation and hands-on demo for Fiesta? I wanted to get started.”
On Saturday.

“Right.” He stared at her, and she wondered if she had food on her face. Or magic marker. A second

nose. Something, anything to explain the intensity of his gaze. “You want to work on our demo.”

Why else would she be here?

“We have a week,” she pointed out. “Seven days minus a few hours. We need to get going.”