Wicked Nights (Men of Discovery Island 2)

He inhaled slowly, pulling salty air deep into his lungs. Boat oil. Neoprene rubber. All good things. Unfortunately, cataloging the scents and smells of the ocean didn’t distract his mind from where he was. Worse, the earthy, pungent scent of loose strands of sea kelp floating on the surface reminded him he wasn’t really alone in the water. Debris from a tsunami might not choke the slice of the Pacific surrounding Discovery Island, but there was still plenty of stuff to bump into out here.

He dipped his face into the ocean, tipping his head back to drain the water out of his mask. When he looked down through the mask, he spotted Piper and Carla moving gracefully down the anchor line toward the bottom. Rose Wall was a beautiful dive. The site description included a kelp forest and schools of yellowtails. The question was, did he join Piper or did he sit the dive out, bobbing around on the surface like an old woman?

Before he could overthink it, he took another long breath, focusing only on the push of air through his lungs and his rib cage expanding. He dived at a slant, the water pressure on his back driving him down toward the bottom. Seven feet. Eight. Then a piece of seaweed brushed his leg. Or a shark. A goddamned tree. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt the electric shock of the unexpected touch through the three-millimeter wet suit. Hell. This time, the flashback rolled over him, impossible to ignore. He sucked in water through his snorkel, no longer sure which end was up and which down.

* * *

PIPER SANK SLOWLY, feet first, dumping air from the BC as she exhaled. Pinching her nose closed, she breathed out gently until her ears equalized and then started mentally mapping the corals and underwater formations. Getting lost on her way back to the boat wasn’t part of her plans. Overhead, an explosion of bubbles marked Cal’s entry into the water.

She paused, waiting to see if he’d be joining them. He hadn’t indicated any intentions of doing so, but she didn’t want to leave him behind or swimming to catch up if he’d changed his mind. What she didn’t see, though, was a tank or diving fins. He dipped below the surface briefly, diving in a smooth, clean arc. At seven feet he slowed. At twelve...something happened. She wasn’t sure what, but Cal’s body jerked and flailed. Grabbing her dive slate, she scrawled a note for Carla.

He okay?”

Carla pointed toward Cal in silent question, and Piper nodded. Both women watched Cal for a moment. He clawed his way to the surface and then his big, powerful body cut through the water away from her boat in a familiar combat stroke. In the water, Cal had always been all raw power, a sure, confident swimmer. Piper had no difficulties imagining him doing the SEAL thing. His hands never rose above the surface, his legs methodically propelling him through the water and away from the Feelin’ Free.

Huh.

So, okay, no law said Cal had to dive. He could have brought a dive boat out here because he felt like a swim or wanted to check out the currents firsthand or any number of a dozen things. Despite what she’d said to him, she didn’t really believe he was trying to get the jump on her or intended to cut her out of the contract competition. Cal didn’t operate that way. He was blunt. He didn’t mince words.

His straightforward attitude had also been what had driven her crazy in the past, because he’d never held back with her. He’d called her irresponsible, impulsive, dangerous.... He’d slapped labels on her so fast that she’d never considered being anything but what he’d called her. Headfirst, feetfirst, any way, as long as she was all in.

She hung in the water as she watched Cal. Hundred-foot-tall columns of green kelp waved lazily toward the surface, strands forming a soft backdrop for the schools of bright orange damselfish. The Rose Wall site was like being in an underwater forest. Plants covered the rocky bottom, clearly visible in the bright light filtering down from the surface. Her bubbles disappeared overhead.

“Ladies first?” Carla scrawled on the tablet and flashed her a grin. Her dive buddy had the worst handwriting known to humankind. She should have been a doctor.

Piper picked up the pencil. “Why didn’t he bring his dive buddy?”

Cal’s boat sat low in the water, indicating the steel tanks lined up on his deck were full. Another twenty yards into her swim and she spotted his anchor line. He was at the boat now, and she ran her eyes over what she could see. Whatever had happened back there on the surface, he seemed fine now. She could make out the sleek black outline of his wet suit and diving fins. She didn’t know what to think. He wasn’t wearing a weight belt or harness, so he’d had no intention of diving?

“Free dive?” Carla scrawled back.