He hadn’t panicked.
That had to count for something.
“You think the Fiesta folks would like a dive like that?”
She shot him a naughty grin. “Margie Kemp might.”
Right. The female member of the Fiesta team. “You don’t think I’m Sal’s type?”
He felt her shudder. “He must be someone’s type,” she answered, but she sounded doubtful.
“Not mine,” he said.
He rolled and swam lazily for shore. She clung playfully to his shoulders, riding his back.
“You should talk with someone.”
No. What he needed was to do something. To fix this. He’d spent one minute five feet underwater. He’d served as a U.S. Navy SEAL. He’d swum despite near hypothermia, powered through two-mile swims with his fins dragging at his feet. He’d made combat swims that were still classified and dived into storm-churned water from a Blackhawk.
Five feet didn’t begin to cut it.
And yet she’d tried and that mattered. “Thanks. For—” Too bad he didn’t have a list of words. He wanted her to know he appreciated what she’d done, but neither of them had spent much timing talking about feelings or mouthing “thank you.”
“I only wish I was a miracle worker.”
Apparently, though, she got it.
“You are,” he said roughly. She had no idea. When he focused on her, he wasn’t focused on the dive. His head stayed in the game just a little more, and he dived just a little farther. Hell, with another hundred sessions or so of kiss therapy, he might make it to a full twenty feet.
He slogged out of the water and onto the beach.
“Can Daeg or Tag lead your dives?”
He’d suggested the switch. “Fiesta insists I do it.”
“Right.” There was a pause. Clearly, she understood exactly what that meant for his chances of landing the contract. “All right,” she said. “I just want you to know I’ve got your back. If there’s anything I can do, count me in, okay?”
And...now he felt lower than low. She had his back—and he’d placed a bid on her place. Telling her was suddenly more important than ever because, even if he hadn’t known the dive shop he was offering for belonged to her in part, he knew now. On the other hand, he wasn’t going to seal the deal on the Fiesta contract. It wouldn’t matter.
“Okay?” she asked.
He wanted to be. More than anything.
“You bet,” he said and led the way back to the boat.
12
THE DIVE BOAT slapped and bounced over the waves when Daeg opened the throttle and let her rip. Piper had played and replayed this afternoon in her head a million times, as she had countless numbers of platform dives. She would imagine how something was going to unfold, step by step, and then her body would step through the sequence flawlessly, even when nerves froze her head.
Leading the Fiesta crew through her dive had been an adrenaline rush. Later, she’d do a postmortem with Carla, but right now she was fiercely happy. The dive had gone well. Better than well. She and Carla had partnered with Cal and Daeg to lead the day’s demonstration dives. Since Piper’s dive was technically less challenging, they’d opted to do hers first in case the Fiesta crew turned out to have any issues diving. They’d motored slowly past one of the smaller islands close to Discovery Island where the sea lions congregated.
Even before they’d spotted the sea lion colony, raucous barking had competed with the harsher cry of the gulls. Up close, the sea lions were awkwardly cute, pulling themselves across the sand on their flippers. The creatures also had more things to say to each other than a houseful of Brennans. The noise was deafening.
After walking the divers through the site and performing gear checks, she’d rolled off the side of the boat. Underwater, her field of vision exploded into a sea of miniature bubbles as she tucked and rolled, swimming smoothly to the anchor line just off the dive boat’s prow. The other divers had followed, with Cal staying behind on board to monitor the surface and keep an eye on the boat.
Even before she’d signaled their descent, they’d had a clear view of the dozens of sea lions diving through the water around them. The animals had been perfectly happy to swim with the divers, had spiraled through the kelp forest and over to the edge where the bottom dropped away steeply in a trail of bubbles. When they’d surfaced forty minutes later, working their way slowly up the safety line, the Fiesta team had been excited. Carla had taken photographs of them and, as she’d passed the camera around, the group had relaxed with bottles of water and sliced watermelon.
The mature thing to do would be to play it cool and not rub Cal’s face in the spectacular success her dive had been. But...screw it. She was one step closer to winning this competition, and they both knew it.