In Too Deep (29 page)

“
Yeah, yeah,” West
replied.

A cap unscrewed and a squirt of
cool gel splattered onto the back of her neck. Piper yelped, but as
his fingertips spread the aloe across her skin she sighed in
relief. His fingers were blissful, even if the skin he touched
sizzled like it’d lost a round with a blowtorch.

“
I expect you can reach any other
bits without my help.” West pulled his hand away and Ben
snorted.

Piper lifted her forehead from the
table and sat upright. Glenna pushed a Coke into her hand and its
icy touch centered her. She popped the tab and drank. Best get this
drama out of the way and break the simmering tension in the
room.

But before she could launch into
her hastily prepared explanation, Shaye said, “How can you do it?
How can you look for dead people—
dead bodies
—after what
happened to Dad?” Tears clogged her sister’s throat.

“
It’s my job. It’s what I’m
trained to do.” She looked at Shaye, begging her to understand.
“They’re not just bodies. They’re somebody’s son or sister or—” a
deep breath forced air into her lungs, allowing her voice to appear
firm and calm “—or father.”

“
Why you didn’t tell us, darling?”
her mother said.

Ben folded his arms, nailing her
to the chair with a raised eyebrow.

“
The last thing I wanted was to
upset you all, to bring up painful memories, so I decided to keep
that part of my life separate.” Piper slanted a look at
West.

He, too, sat in identical fashion
to her brother, his only outward sign of tension the flicker of his
fingers tapping a backbeat on his upper arm.

“
You keep all the important parts
of your life separate,” Ben said. “It’s no surprise you didn’t give
Mum and Shaye the full picture.”

“
I was trying to protect
them.”

“
You were protecting yourself. You
didn’t want to defend your job choice.”

“
I don’t have to defend my job—not
to Mum and Shaye, and definitely not to you.” Her core body
temperature amped up. “My life, my decisions, and my choice whether
to share them with people I knew wouldn’t understand.”

“
Oh, I understand, all right.”
Ben’s eyes sparked cold fire.

“
Ben!” Glenna rapped her knuckles
on the table and glared at her son. “Let your sister speak.” She
turned to Piper. “I’d like to hear from the beginning about the
process you went through.”

So, in hesitant steps, Piper
described the years of intensive training put in to try and make
the squad. Bit by bit, her sister and mother’s stiff posture
softened as she told them of the overwhelming reaction of the
families when they brought a loved one home. She explained how body
recovery made up only one part of her work and how she enjoyed the
challenge and camaraderie of a tight-knit team. Throughout all the
questions Piper fielded from Shaye and her mother, Ben and West
remained silent.

“
And being a police diver makes
you happy?” her mother asked.

West leaned forward. A lock of
hair tumbled onto his forehead and she remembered that morning—the
lightness in her chest as they listened to the sigh of the ocean,
the breeze ruffling their hair, the simple joy of it
all.

Did being a police diver make her
happy? Piper swallowed the automatic response of, “Yes, of course
it does,” because it didn’t make her happy anymore. Now it was what
she did, and what she had to do, in order to live with who she’d
been nine years ago. But telling that to her family and West wasn’t
an option.

So she gave the same half truthful
answer she’d given West.

“
I’m good at what I do. There’s a
lot of personal satisfaction in being a squad member.” Like knowing
that even though she was a “girl” she could make it in a man’s
world. “That makes me happy.”

“
Hmmmph.” Ben crushed his soda
can.

“
Yoo-hoo, anybody home?” A warbly
voice from outside the back door interrupted any further
comments.

Without waiting for an invitation,
the back door swung open and Mrs. Taylor swept inside, her pale
lavender hair-do matching the large flowers on her dress and the
ribbon tied around her walking stick.

“
Do come in, Betsy,” Glenna said
as the older woman clumped over in her orthopaedic shoes to the
table, batting her powdery lavender eyelids at West.

“
West, how delightful to see you,
dear,” she said, the sarcasm in Glenna’s voice apparently flowing
over her pristinely curled head.

Ben stumbled off his chair and
hopped aside. “Have a seat, Mrs. Taylor.”

“
Oh, aren’t you a gentleman!
Glenna, such charming boys.” She sat, edging the chair a little
closer to West.

“
Cold drink, Mrs. Taylor?” said
Ben.

“
Yes please, it’s been a busy day,
hasn’t it?” She patted West’s knee with a gnarled hand resplendent
with rings.

Piper sipped her Coke. Heaven
forbid the old dear fall off Oban’s wharf—she’d sink like a
proverbial stone.

“
I’ll get you one.” West tried to
slither off his chair, but Ben blocked him in.

“
Wouldn’t hear of it.” He grinned
at West, no doubt noticing that Mrs. Taylor’s hand still rested on
West’s bare knee. “I’ll fetch it. Lemonade in a glass?”

“
That’d be grand, dear.” Mrs.
Taylor smiled, revealing a scary set of false teeth. “Now, Glenna.
I have something exciting to tell you.”

Piper and Shaye exchanged glances,
Shaye’s dimples appearing in the effort to keep a straight face.
Unless you were part of Mrs. Taylor’s church ladies, or walked
around with a dangly appendage between your legs, you didn’t
warrant much attention in Betsy-Taylor-world.

Piper leaned back in her chair,
crossing an ankle over her knee. Mrs. Taylor’s arrival got her off
the hook and she’d enjoy watching Ben and West squirm under her
attention. Speaking of her attention—Piper nearly sucked soda into
her lungs as Mrs. Taylor’s fingernails shifted higher up West’s
thigh. West’s bulging eyes and
I have a branch up my butt
clench of his teeth could be mistaken for that of a man suffering
from lockjaw, but he refrained from shoving the woman’s hand from
his leg and shuddering.

Glenna made a polite noise in the
back of her throat.

“
Right as we speak, the ladies and
I are organizing a ball and charity auction, and your Ben will be
the recipient of all the funds we raise.” Mrs. Taylor removed her
hand from West’s leg and rested it on the curved handle of her
walking stick, bracing herself for the outburst of expected
praise.

“
Oh.” Her mother looked stunned.
“That’s very kind of you, Betsy. But I think that’s a little
extravagant.”

“
I can’t accept that kind of help,
Mrs. Taylor, but thanks,” said Ben from the kitchen.

Mrs. Taylor’s penciled-on eyebrows
twitched inward. “Nonsense. We don’t want you losing your home
because you’re in a bit of a fix, do we, dear?” She wagged a finger
at Ben.

“
Well, no, but—”

“
It’s a great idea,” Shaye
interrupted, as Ben placed a glass of lemonade in front of Mrs.
Taylor. “You need all the help you can get.”

“
Mum—” said Ben, placing a hand on
their mother’s shoulder.

She shook her head. “Darling,
you’re running out of time and even though you’ve got more
bookings, you’re not out of hot water yet. Think of all the years
you’ve helped other people with fundraising. Consider it a
community loan.”

“
Hell.” Ben’s shoulders slumped
and he moved over to the hutch dresser to snatch up a
coaster.

“
Oh, it’ll be such fun. We’ll have
a band, and a buffet, and we’ll tart the community center up till
it sparkles.” Mrs. Taylor thumped her cane on the floor. “And wait
till you see how much money your boy here will bring in at the
bachelor auction.”

“
Bachelor auction?” Every gaze in
the room leaped to Ben, who froze halfway back from the dresser
with the coaster in his hand.

Forget about the cat that caught
the canary—Mrs. Taylor was the cat that brought down an albatross.
“Ooh, we’ve had lots of local women tell my ladies it’ll be a
popular and financially worthwhile event.”

“
I bet they did.” Shaye nudged
Piper’s ankle under the table.

“
Auctioned for what?” Ben
spluttered.

“
Shotgun marriage? Personal love
slave?” Piper suggested.

Ben hurled a venomous glance in
her direction, which made her grin like a crazy woman.

“
Oh, dear, nothing like that.”
Mrs. Taylor frowned. “No, no. The winning bidder will get a
complimentary dinner at Due South with her bachelor and some
charming conversation and companionship. No hanky-panky stuff
at
all
.”

West tipped his chair back on two
legs, locking his hands behind his neck. “I think it’s a great
idea, but expecting Ben to make charming conversation with a woman?
Good luck with that, Mrs. T.”

Ben Frisbee’d the coaster at him,
but West continued laughing his butt off until her brother stormed
into the kitchen.

“
I’m
so
glad you approve.”
Mrs. Taylor’s sugary tone could bring on a diabetic
attack.

Piper uncrossed her ankle, leaning
forward to get a closer view of the punch line.

“
And isn’t it fortunate that
you’re
such a smooth talker, West dear, since your name is
also on the auction list.”

That shut him right up.

But even as she laughed alongside
Shaye and Ben, a kernel of jealousy unfurled and smoldered in her
stomach.

Piper didn’t want to share West
with anyone, good cause or not.

***

The next day, after a queen’s wave
from Mrs. Taylor in the bar, West snarled under his breath and went
to check on the kitchen staff.

Bullied into a bachelor auction by
a seventy-one-year-old harridan, how pathetic was that? Jesus, he
needed to grow a pair. At least Ben, Ford, Kip, Joe, and Noah
suffered the same fate. And to add to his complaints Piper was
avoiding him and Ben made a nuisance of himself whenever he tried
to wrangle a moment alone with her.

Plus, his training schedule was
screwed up by all the erupting drama. They had another romance
over-nighter with only one couple tomorrow. He intended to
find—make that bloody enforce—an opportunity to dive.

West pushed through the double
kitchen doors into somebody-just-shoot-me chaos. As usual, he
sought Piper out first. Her bare arms were elbow-deep in dishwater,
her cheeks a pretty pink from the steamy kitchen heat. At the sound
of the doors hissing open she glanced up. Sexual voltage arced
between them, her gaze dissolving from bored to white-hot in
seconds.

Not the only frustrated one in the
room.

Shaye streaked out of the walk-in
pantry with her arms full of vegetables. “I need that pan—like five
minutes ago. Hurry the hell up!”

“
Yes, commander.” Piper pulled a
saucepan from the sink, whipping the kitchen towel off her
shoulder.

West glanced to the far corner of
the room by the back door where Bill had taken to sitting in a
chair during the meal service, bellowing orders at Shaye when he
deemed necessary. Today Bill didn’t appear to be paying any
attention to his frantic protégé, choosing instead to make goo-goo
eyes at his ex-wife, who stood at his side, her hand resting on his
shoulder.

How cozy.

West flexed his fingers, the
knuckles cracking. Less than three days back on the island and the
widow Gatlin already wove her sticky web—and his father was jumping
in it with both feet. Like a brainless blowfly.

“
West.” A wet hand clasped his
forearm and he looked down at Piper’s frowning face. She tugged.
“Pantry—now.”

He followed Piper into the pantry,
unable to prevent his gaze dropping to the pert twitch of her ass
under snug black jeans. The sight momentarily distracted him from
his annoyance at Bill’s belly-up capitulation.

“
Aren’t you hot in those jeans?”
he said, as Piper ducked around him to shut the door. “It’s like a
sauna in there.”

She leaned against it, watching
him. “I didn’t invite you in here to discuss my
clothes.”

Normally she wore a full length
apron, but today she’d donned a chef’s half apron, knotted around
her slim hips and hiding nothing of her upper torso. Fascinated
with the trickle of sweat disappearing under the “v” neck of her
CSI: Can’t Stand Idiots
tee shirt, West braced his palms
against the door on either side of her shoulders. “Perhaps we
should
discuss them.”

Piper’s gaze lowered and her
breathing accelerated, the rapid movement of her chest freeing a
second droplet of sweat. Her nipples puckered under the soft knit
fabric and West wanted to drag his mouth down to those sensitive
peaks.

Instant hard-on.