West waded to the pool’s edge and climbed out. He grabbed his towel from a spectator chair, hung it around his neck and rubbed his hair. When he turned back, his gaze dropped to Piper’s long legs, once again encased in black denim. She wore her purple combat boots and a Warning: If we’re being chased by zombies I’m tripping you tee shirt, which made him want to laugh. Oh, she’d trip someone all right. Most likely him.
She kept her distance, making an effort to keep her eyes fixed above the waistband of his Lycra training shorts. His cock twitched as her hazel gaze darted down again. The opportunity to tease was too good to resist.
“Like what you see?” He pitched his voice low and the reward was a faint tint of rose on Piper’s cheekbones.
Her throat worked as she swallowed, but she met his gaze, affixing a smirk to her lips. “You must be very secure in your masculinity to parade around in those budgie smugglers.”
“Oh, I’m very secure.” He see-sawed the towel over his back. “And I’m happy to show you the rear view of my budgie smugglers—oh wait—you already saw it when you were checking out my ass.”
Instead of denying it, Piper barked out a belly laugh. “Oh puh-lease. Like I haven’t seen your skinny butt a dozen times before.”
“My butt is not skinny.”
The cocky attitude returned and she bared her teeth. “How would you know what your butt looks like? Do you ogle yourself in the mirror while going at it doggy-style?”
Piper never bothered with little niceties, always straight for the jugular.
“I can’t say that’s quite my thing, but no woman’s ever complained once she’d got her hands…or mouth…on it.”
She certainly hadn’t. West recalled one memorable occasion when Piper sunk her teeth into one cheek hard enough to leave tiny indents. She’d kissed it better though. Then moved those bewitching, pouty lips onto other parts of his anatomy.
“Low standards.” Piper sniffed and walked to the door, looking back over her shoulder. “We got a couple of bookings for a romance cruise. We’ll see you at Erin’s in twenty.”
She dropped a withering glance at his crotch. “And you might want to take a cold shower. Looks like your budgie’s trying to escape.”
Twenty minutes after taking Piper’s advice and showering under a shrinkage-guaranteed temperature, West strolled into The Great Flat White café. He waved to Erin, her long, blonde plait swinging maniacally as she operated the enormous espresso machine. She flashed him a peace sign, which in Erin’s world translated to a confirmation of his regular coffee order—a double-shot-flat white. He nodded, attention drawn to the corner table by the large picture window, which overlooked the ferry wharf.
Piper sat with her back to the view, across from her brother and sister. Shaye leaned into Ben and murmured something, and he gently nudged her arm and chuckled. Piper’s gaze skipped between them, her lips pinched together, while under the table one purple boot tapped a jerky rhythm on the café’s wooden floor. She looked away from the gentle ribbing going on between her siblings and pretended to study the laminated menu.
A sharp twinge hit him somewhere in the region of his heart. Piper considered herself the odd duck growing up, the one who never quite fitted in. Born the middle child, she’d been two years younger than him and Ben—and a girl, much to her annoyance—and most of the time they hadn’t wanted her around. She was also three years older than Shaye and while her little sister was happy to be a mummy’s girl, Piper gravitated toward her dad.
West quashed the feeling as he walked to the table. Likely the chest twinge was a misdirection of nerves from his stomach demanding breakfast.
He sat next to Piper, which she looked real cheerful about, and said to Ben, “You already ate a bowl of cereal at home.”
Ben didn’t bother to look up from the menu. “Yeah, but you know I hate that bran stuff you buy, it tastes like tree bark.”
“It’s good for you, keeps your ass in peak operational condition.”
Shaye made a “T” sign with her hands. “Ewww. Too much information, dude.”
West swiveled his head to the right with an evil grin. “We were just talking about asses, weren’t we Piper?”
Her eyes tapered to annoyed slits but before she could retaliate, Erin arrived at the table with a tray of coffees.
“Right. Latte bowl with skinny milk for Shaye-Shaye. A long black for Ben, and West’s usual…” Erin passed Piper’s coffee over without looking directly at her. “And an Americano with hot milk on the side for you.”
She placed a small jug of steaming milk on the table and whipped an order pad from her apron pocket. “Now, what can I get you all this morning?”
Erin noted their orders and hurried back behind the service counter.
“So, the new photos and blurb on the website did the trick?” West said, while Ben ripped open a tiny sugar packet. “Some loved-up couple keen for an overnighter?”
“Two couples, actually. Booked in for Saturday.” And I told you so, loser, Piper’s tone implied.
Ben scratched the scruffy stubble on his jaw. “Well, it’s three couples now, actually.”
“Three? Wow, get out!” Shaye shoved Ben and nearly knocked him off his seat.
“Wait a minute. Three couples? When did this happen?” Piper didn’t sound as enthusiastic as her sister.
“Got an e-mail last night. The original two couples are old friends and they’ve convinced some other friends to take a second honeymoon,” Ben said.
Piper added milk to her coffee, frown lines appearing on her forehead. “But The Mollymawk’s only got four cabins. We can’t all fit.”
Mathematics being one of his strong suits, West got it. He wasn’t sure if he liked it, but he got it. A sidelong glance at Ben revealed Ben got it too.
“You and West will share the bunkroom for the night,” Ben said.
“Hell no!” Piper snapped up straight, her chair skidding backward with a screech.
“It’s just for one night.” Ben stirred the sugar into his cup, keeping his gaze glued to the spoon’s circles.
“I’m not sharing a room.” Folding her arms, Piper shot West a baleful glare, but she wouldn’t prolong the eye contact and switched her fierce gaze back to her brother.
Interesting that the lady protested with such vehemence. West angled toward her and waited for the fireworks.
Ben dropped his teaspoon on the table and huffed out a sigh. “Why? It’s a bunkroom, Piper. It’s not like you’re sharing a bed, for the love of God.”
She opened her mouth, clamped it shut again and remained silent. A miracle in itself. Though West couldn’t blame her—thinking about sharing a bed with Piper kinda drained the intelligent cells right out of his brain.
“It’ll just be like camping when we were kids,” said Shaye in full peacekeeping mode. “Remember how we used to all take our sleeping bags and camp out on the beach around the campfire?”
“Fine.” Piper affected an I totally wasn’t overreacting shrug and picked up her cup. “But I’m kicking him out to the stern deck if he starts snoring.”
Someone had their standard issue cop panties in a twist about spending the night in a shared space. Nice to know he wasn’t the only one squirming. West took his first sip of coffee. “You bring earplugs then and I’ll bring the marshmallows.”
“No fires on my boat,” grumped Ben.
West’s grin widened at Piper’s flushed cheeks. Oh, there’d be fire all right. Because things were heating up fast and like it or not, someone was gonna get burned.
And for the record?
This time it wouldn’t be him.
***
“You’re not planning anything I can’t reheat in a pot, are you?” Piper leaned over Kezia’s kitchen table later that morning, watching as Shaye flipped through a notebook of handwritten recipes. “Because cooking’s not my thing.”
“I’ll keep it simple.” Shaye continued to turn pages with one hand and scribble notes on the pad
beside her with the other. “Blinis with smoked salmon for starters, that’s easy. Now, a main. Hmm.”
Piper wandered around the room. Kezia’s place was a 1930s refurbished cottage—compact, yes, but also cozy and so, so Kezia. She admired the collection of brass knickknacks behind the flue on the bricks that ensconced the woodstove, wandered over to sniff at a delicate vase of sweet-pea, and studied the Zoe-created artworks pinned to a corkboard.
Kezia and her daughter were off on a play date.
Zoe had pulled a face when Piper asked about her friend before they left. “There are no girls my age around, so Mum said I have to make do with George. But he’s not my friend, he’s a boy. You can’t be BFFs with a boy.”
Thinking of West, Piper had agreed. Best friends forever? That hadn’t worked out so well.
Sighing, she grabbed a pot mitt and lifted the kettle off the woodstove to make another coffee. Too much more caffeine and she’d be jittery enough to do or say something brainless. Like she nearly had at the pool.
“Like what you see?” West said, and she’d almost blurted out, “Baby I could eat you with a spoon.”
Luckily, she picked her tongue up off the floor and did her pride a favor by cramming it back into her mouth. Strutting around in all that black Lycra, displaying all those sexy muscles and glistening, tanned skin…any woman under seventy would drool. Heck, even over seventy—she would swear the lavender-haired Mrs. Taylor batted her eyelashes when West personally served her her gin and tonic.
She poured the boiling water into her mug and stirred, staring out the window. Endless blue sky and variegated shades of green foliage dominated the island. Blue and green and very little else. No grey skyscrapers, no colorful billboards lining the motorway, no gold trolley buses trundling through city streets.
“You okay?”
Piper turned and leaned against the counter. “Sure. Just wool-gathering.”
“About?”
Piper couldn’t meet her sister’s eyes. She still resisted asking for help. Hard enough setting aside her pride at work, but with family—family she deliberately estranged herself from—it went from awkward to excruciating. “If I can find someone to cover for you on Saturday, will you come on the cruise with us?”
Shaye dropped the pen and then snatched it up, rapidly clicking and unclicking the tiny button. “Piper…”
“Not for the whole time. Just to serve dinner to the guests and stay overnight.” She hated the faint whine of desperation in her tone.
“I can’t.”
“I’m sure if we talked to West—”
“What is it with you and West, anyway?” Shaye hijacked her gaze. “The pair of you are like circling sharks, just waiting to attack each other.”
Piper cradled her mug, relishing the heat on her chilled fingers. The tension between them was that noticeable? “We just seem piss each other off. That’s why I need you to come on this cruise and act as a buffer. Keep us from ruining the lovebirds’ romantic weekend.”
She dredged up a wan smile. Yeah, nothing would be more romantic on a second honeymoon than to see her and West emitting ferocious I want to kill you vibes the whole time. Or was it more I want to shove your tonsils down your throat with my tongue and rip your clothes off vibes?
Piper shook her head. Either way, this energy between them? Not good.
Shaye went to the fridge and pulled out a jug of orange juice, which shook briefly in her hands. “You’re both grown-ups and you used to be friends. You’ll just have to control your temper.”
Right. Control. Because control was something she had in spades around West. It would be a lot easier controlling herself if Shaye came to smooth things over. “I really wouldn’t ask unless—”
The jug clattered as Shaye almost dropped it on the table. “No, Pipe. I won’t do it. I won’t get on Ben’s boat.”
Whoa. Where had that come from? “You won’t get on Ben’s boat? Huh? Have I missed something here?”
Shaye steadied the jug with both hands and poured herself a glass of juice. “You missed the last nine years of my life.”
Oookay. So there lay the truth, bald and ugly on the table.
And she deserved it.
Sure, she knew Shaye favored vintage clothes and that she probably still had a collection of Barbie dolls in her closet, because Shaye didn’t like to let go of the things she loved. But, if asked, Piper wouldn’t know how Shaye had coped living in Invercargill for two years while she got her hospitality diploma, or if the three dates that didn’t turn into four with the real estate agent in Bluff were a disappointment or a relief. She didn’t share Shaye’s secret heart like she used to, when her sister would crawl into bed next to her and whisper the things that made her sad.
Piper edged over to the table and took a seat. “Sorry.”
Shaye gave her a one shoulder shrug and sat sideways on her chair, keeping her body angled away. “I got used to not relying on you. I was old enough to understand the reasons why you left.”
Piper winced, remembering the look on her sister’s face two days after their father’s memorial service when Piper loaded up a backpack and left Shaye and Glenna on the deck of their family home without a backward glance. “You were fifteen. A kid.”
“I stopped being a kid the day Dad died.”
“We all stopped being kids that day.”
They sat quietly, listening through the open window to the whistles and squawks of a hungry kaka and the distant drone of a lawnmower. The coffee mug warmed her icy hands as she replayed her father’s voice. “C’mon Pipe, don’t be the Incredible Sulk. A dive’ll do you good. Everything looks better underwater.”
But that fateful morning was the exception. Nothing looked better. West had just dumped her and she was so in love with him she could barely construct a coherent sentence. Not a great candidate for a safety diver. She’d paid the ultimate price for that lack of concentration.
“I understood why you left.”
Piper looked up from her mug. No little sis, you have no idea what really happened that morning and why I left. “Oh?”
“Staying in Oban was too hard with all the memories of Dad and some people weren’t very kind. Plus, you knew you had to leave to join the police.”
She found herself nodding. Job opportunities in Oban were scarce and the National Police College was located in Wellington. They were the standard party-lines she trotted out when questioned about her reasons for leaving Oban for the city.
“But that doesn’t explain why you cut us out of your life like we were a bunch of inbred yokels you couldn’t wait to get rid of.”
“I didn’t—”
Shaye whipped around, snatched a mandarin from the fruit bowl and fired it across the table.
Piper ducked to the side, the mandarin grazing her shoulder before it hit the counter and rolled into the sink. Dammit—her sister had a killer aim.
“Stuff you, Piper, you did. The odd phone call and weekend shopping trips with you in the city once a year doesn’t count for much of a relationship.”
“I didn’t mean to cut you out.”
“But you did. You weren’t there for us when we needed you most.” Shaye’s eyes glistened. Crap, now look what she’d done. “I was fifteen—a kid, as you pointed out. Fifteen and forced to glue the pieces of Mum’s life back together when she fucking fell apart.”
Piper dropped her head into the palm of her hand. Tried to think of something that wouldn’t make her sound any more like the selfish bitch she so obviously was. At eighteen she hadn’t thought about what she’d dumped in Shaye’s lap by taking off to live with her dad’s aunt in Wellington. She’d just needed to get away from all the murmured accusations—and West. If it weren’t for that knife aimed between her ribs, the decision to leave may have been different.
“I’m sorry, Shaye. Jesus. You never told me.”
“Would it have made you come home?”
The Hello Kitty clock on the wall ticked off the seconds a
s Shaye swiped a finger beneath her eyes, smudging her mascara. She smoothed her ponytail and adjusted the collar of her pretty apple-green blouse. “Sorry about the mandarin.”
“You missed my head, at least.”
“If I’d been aiming for your head, I wouldn’t have missed.”
Piper barked out a laugh. “And the boat thing?”
“Getting on a boat stresses me out—big time. I avoid them when I can.”
“Hon, you live on an island.”
Shaye sent her a duh glare. “I cope with it, okay? I use the ferry all the time. Just so long as the boat ride doesn’t involve going anywhere near divers or snorkelers or Paterson Inlet.”
Paterson Inlet, where their father drowned. How could she continue to push Shaye in light of that revelation?
“Is there anything I can say, anything I can do, to show you how sorry I am?”
Shaye returned the jug to the fridge. She paused with the door open, turning her three-quarter-profile toward Piper. Even with raccoon circles under her eyes and her hair caught in a casual ponytail, Shaye epitomized the graceful beauty of a 1950s movie star. Piper’s breath hitched, and for the first time in many years she ached for the sisters they used to be.
“Saying sorry is the easy part,” Shaye said. “It’s what you do now that’s important, and you’ve come back to help. It’s a start.”
And it was a start discovering if the ties binding them as sisters were strong enough to repair the damage of neglect. They could forge a new relationship—assuming Shaye wanted her back in her life. And assuming a relationship could span the distance once she returned to Wellington.
Because after these six weeks?
She was outta here.
***
A light breeze skimmed across the ocean, and the clear water made sunglasses essential as the sun slipped out from behind the veil of cirrostratus cloud. Other than a case of sunburn and a temporarily misplaced contact lens, the trip was a success, with the two Great Whites who duly appeared both entertaining and scaring the crap out of their enthusiastic clients.
In Too Deep Page 8
