Wicked Nights (Men of Discovery Island 2)

“Because it’s safer?” There was no missing the gentle tease in her voice.

There was nothing wrong with wanting to keep her from harm. “You want a piggyback instead? You’re going to burn your feet on the dock.” It was shocking how hot a nail baking in the summer sun could get.

Her eyes narrowed. “The boards can’t be that hot, and I weigh a lot more than I did when I was eight.”

He plucked her gear out of the rinse tank and folded it neatly into his dunk bag. He pulled on his own T-shirt.

“And that’s a good thing.”

Her disgruntled huff had him smiling. “Sometimes, honesty isn’t your best policy, Cal.”

She looked great. He pulled a pair of flip-flops out of his bag and tossed them to her. “Your other choice is to use these.”

“News flash. Our feet are not the same size.”

“Put them on.”

“Right.” She gave an exasperated sigh but shoved her feet into the flip-flops. He had big feet. She didn’t. She also sported a topcoat of bright green nail polish his own feet were missing. Then—yep—four steps in, he heard the moment she kicked the shoes off.

“Busted,” he said, stopping. “Choose. Shoes or a lift.”

“I’m fine. I’m not going to burn.”

He gave her The Look when she picked up her pace. Sure enough, her feet were burning, and they still had a ways to go. “A or B. It’s simple, Piper.”

“You’re truly volunteering to haul my butt from here to my dive shop?”

He considered her question for a moment. “To the boardwalk, yeah. And across the road. I promise not to bite unless you ask me to.”

She stopped dead, propping her hands on her hips, legs apart. Experience had taught him that Piper didn’t like ultimatums of any sort.

“I think I can handle you,” he said.

And...match to the gasoline. She pointed a finger at the dock. “Fine. Bend down. Squat. Do something to close the distance between us unless you want me to scale you like a monkey on a tree.”

It figured certain more southern parts interpreted her words as an invitation. He dropped to one knee. “Climb away.”

She twined her arms around his neck, her bare arm brushing his throat. Her position plastered her breasts against his back, the only things between them his cotton T-shirt and her bikini. Then she wrapped her legs around his waist and he stopped thinking.

Just for a moment because...

He stood up, trying to ignore his new view of a pair of long, muscled legs. Piper’s legs were bare and sun-kissed, only the ridges of scars on her right knee white. And the sweet, hot heat he felt against the small of his back? Don’t think about it. Piper’s swimsuit drove him crazy. It needed more fabric. Or iron plating.

“Mush,” she whispered in his ear.

* * *

STUPID. PIPER HAD sworn not to let Cal push her buttons again. And yet here she was, the soles of her feet burning as she bounced up and down on his back like she was four years old or he was the very best kind of pony ride. He’d dared her and she’d caved, when she could have made a mad dash for the end of the dock and a shady spot. Her arm brushed his neck, and she realized the man had soft places, after all.

Two minutes to the end of the dock. Another minute to cross the boardwalk and reach her shop, at which point he unceremoniously dumped her down his back. Piper had no idea three minutes could last so long or that it was even possible to provoke Cal into being less than a gentleman.

Carla looked up from where she was checking gear when Piper ducked inside. “Please tell me you have plans for our resident SEAL?”

Nipping into the backroom, Piper grabbed the clothes she’d left behind. Hanging around Cal in a bikini wasn’t her best bet.

“What kind of plans?” she hollered back, shimmying out of the bikini. Panties were a good start, plus it was wear-your-favorite-bra-to-work day, a padded number designed to give her the cleavage God had denied her. Blue jeans, a tank top and her steel-toed boots. That had to be enough armor to keep Cal at bay. Just in case, she shrugged on her flannel shirt because gravel sometimes kicked up on the road.

“Sexy plans,” Carla bellowed. They really needed to discuss the concept of an inside voice. The odds of Cal having not heard Carla’s repartee seemed distinctly low.

She grabbed her tote bag and shoved the wet bikini inside. “I haven’t decided.”

Liar, her lady parts screamed. You know exactly what you want to do to him.

“I could make you a list.” Carla moved toward the windows when Piper stepped back into the front room. “Starting with, strip him down. Although I’d leave the dog tags. I love those on my man.”