Wicked Sexy(29)

“Take a chance. Gamble.” He shot her a warm smile, but his fingers were busy doing up his boots. He

was getting ready to leave, she realized. “You can’t spend the rest of your life only taking on the sure things, and I want a second chance.”

She wanted that chance. She knew she did. Anything could happen eventually, given enough chances.

Not necessarily tomorrow, not even quickly, but eventually. Sooner or later, monkeys randomly pounding

on keys would accidentally type out Hamlet. The problem was, that kind of miracle took time. Lots and lots of time.

“I can’t,” she said, and her Mr. All Wrong walked out the door.





18

“BACK ALREADY?” TAG didn’t lift his eyes from the laptop that was sitting open before him when

Daeg slammed into the Deep Dive’s command center. Tag had a look of intense concentration on his face

as he scrutinized a topographical map of the ocean floor. The map likely meant trouble was brewing, but Daeg had enough of his own.

“Miss me?” He wanted to shout, jump on his bike and ride into the wind, do something to take away the

tension, but that wouldn’t solve his problem. The fifteen miles of road between him and the woman he

loved wasn’t the issue. No, it was their insurmountable differences when it came to taking a chance on life.

He wanted to jump in with both feet.

And she didn’t.

He dropped into the chair opposite Tag and propped his feet up on the desk. His thigh protested the

move, but he wasn’t in the mood to hear complaints. His body was the one thing he could control right

now.

“Your CO called.” Tag nudged a scrap of paper toward him. “I believe he’d like to know whether or

not he can count on your coming back to base.”

Daeg pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Yeah. That was a good question.

Tag shoved the laptop aside. “You got an answer for the man?”

“No.”

“No, you’re not re-upping?”

“No, I haven’t decided.” Except that maybe he had when he’d told Dani he wanted more than a few

weeks with her.

“Indecisive much?” Tag’s cheeky drawl was annoying. Maybe Daeg could take his frustrations out on

his friend.

Daeg glared and ignored the urge to rub his thigh. He’d figure out what he wanted. He would. And he

would not think about how good Dani had looked naked in his arms. Since that had been a very, very good look for her.

“I’m working on it.”

“Uh-huh.” During the ensuing pause, Daeg could practically see Tag’s fingers itching to haul the laptop back. He appreciated the gesture, though. He really did. In his case, misery did love company. “Are you still thinking about joining Deep Dive?”

“I’m already involved,” he felt compelled to point out. He had a financial stake in the place, not that he’d ever intended to cash in.

“Money, mostly.” Tag shrugged. “We want you here. I think we’ve made that clear. I was hoping that

Dani might change your mind about sticking around.”

“When have I ever stuck around?” Yeah. That was bitterness in his voice, all right. He heard it loud and clear.

Tag shook his head. “Get in fast, get out quicker. Yeah. I know how we worked in the service. You

could choose to do something different this time. You know that, right? If you wanted, you could choose to stay.”

Daeg shoved to his feet. He was too restless to sit still, and the phone number scrawled on the paper

glared at him, requiring an answer he didn’t have. Stay. Go. Re-up or sign on with Deep Dive and put

down some roots.

He jammed his hands in his pockets and his fingers met paper. He’d left the notepad behind, but he’d

taken Dani’s list with him. She’d penned one incredible, sensual bucket list, and he’d only just gotten started on making all of her fantasies come true.

Maybe he should have told her he’d found the list. It did gave him an unfair advantage. But she was so

sure she knew everything about odds and probability, he liked having this small edge.

Still, the inside knowledge hadn’t helped him that much. She’d shown him the door fast enough this

morning. He told himself that was okay. That it was a good thing she’d turned his offer of long-term down flat; he knew empty words when he heard them.

“Think about it,” Tag encouraged when Daeg headed toward the door. “Our offer still stands. You want

a place here, you got it.”





SWEET MOON WAS almost cleaned up.

Unfortunately, days spent slinging a shovel and filling trash bags hadn’t helped clear her mind any. Nor had she been able to sleep when she’d finally tumbled into bed. So much for thinking of an honest day’s labor as the ultimate sleep aid.

All she had to show for her efforts were two fresh blisters on her palm and purple circles under her

eyes.

She replayed Daeg’s parting words over and over. When had he decided he was in the market for

commitment? She wanted to go back outside with a shovel—or better yet, the chain saw—but there was

nothing left out there to fix. Daeg Ross was supposedly hot summer sex. Nothing more. And yet somehow,

Mr. All Wrong had almost become Mr. All Right.

Maybe she should tidy the office. Organize a few filing cabinets.

Hard labor would eventually have to distract her from how much she already missed him. Less than two

days and she was already thinking about going after him. And she really didn’t want to do that. There was nothing safe about chasing a relationship with Daeg. He always needed to be first into the water and he took risks that scared her. She was not ready to love a man like that.

Love.

Was that really the word she wanted to use here? Sure, she had feelings for Daeg, feelings that his

parting shot about risks couldn’t erase. He was right about that much. She didn’t like taking risks. He was the biggest chance she’d ever taken, and she wouldn’t forget those times, especially the night she’d been wrapped up in his arms while the storm had thundered overhead. So the question was: Even if she wanted

to be brave enough to do this, how did she overcome a lifetime of caution?

When the bell tinkled over the office door, her head came up and her heart started a pathetically hopeful dance. Maybe Daeg had done some rethinking? And maybe she needed to move on and get a life.

The couple standing in the doorway, however, was not who she’d expected—or hoped—to see. Her

grandparents looked tanned and relaxed. The next few minutes were all hugs and kisses and exclamations.

Maybe a few tears, too. Happy ones.

“But how did you get here?” Dani asked, bewildered. The cruise ship wasn’t due to dock in Los

Angeles for another day. And she’d heard rumors of a special present from her father, who was presently riding a real estate wave and flush—the honeymoon suite at the Beverly Hills Hotel. No, her grandparents shouldn’t have been home for at least three more days.

“Took a taxi.” Her grandfather waved a vague hand toward the driveway. “From town.”

“Is something wrong?” Surely she would have heard, or at least merited a phone call. “I didn’t expect

you back so soon.” She had the itinerary printed out and taped by her desk. She knew the dates without

double-checking.

“Of course not.” Her grandmother’s lips twitched, and then she looked at Dani’s grandfather and

sighed. “He said there was no point in finishing the sail to Los Angeles, that we’d just have to turn around and drive right back.”

“The ship brought us to our own front yard.” That particular twinkle in her grandfather’s eyes had

always heralded mischief. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“The head steward thought we were unhappy with the service!”

Her grandfather slid an arm around her grandmother and planted a kiss on her. Not a quick buss, either.

“That’s what he thought we were doing.”

“You got off the ship. Early.” She couldn’t begin to imagine the logistics of that kind of move.

“Uh-huh.” Her grandfather smiled, clearly less worried than she was by the cruise ship’s rules.

“And they let you do that.”

He snorted. “How were they going to stop us?”

She could think of a half dozen ways. “Don’t they have rules about leaving early?”

“Sure.” A familiar grin spread across her grandfather’s face. “But honey, some rules are made for

breaking. You ask your grandmother all about it. I’ve got a mountain of stuff sitting on the driveway to haul in.”

Her grandmother, he always complained—obviously enjoying the familiar refrain—had never mastered

the art of packing light. “The overweight fees are bankrupting me,” he tossed out with a twinkle, right before he stepped smartly through the door.

Her grandmother sank back into her chair. “That man is something else again.”

“He loves you.” The pain of that statement was unexpected. The pain and the joy. These two people

meant something dear to her. She’d always been happy for them, for their obvious love for each other and the pleasure they took in each other’s company. But now their easy comfort underscored what she didn’t

have.

What she could have had but had tossed away.