Wicked Nights by Anne Marsh Page A

”
    “Just that you could be,” he agreed. “Which you’re not. So fair game.”
    “Since when do you ride the swings?”
    “Maybe I’m trying something different.” His eyes met hers in silent challenge, and she wondered if her
    comment about his predictability had stung the other night.
    Lenny was making final rounds, collecting tickets and checking the safety harnesses. If tonight were her
    lucky night, Cal wouldn’t have one. Of course, since he was never impulsive, he undoubtedly did.
    Lenny paused.
    Cal handed over his ticket.
    So not her night.
    A minute later the ride started, the familiar music drowning out the chatter of the pier’s crowds. The
    lights flashed a riff of rainbow shades, and Discovery Island melted into a colorful blur as they rose up off
    the ground. She loved this. The sensation was almost as good as platform diving had been. She could—
    again, almost—pretend she was flying.
    Cal ruined it by opening his mouth.
    “Good job today,” he said. Instead of looking out at the island, he was staring at her again. Cal was
    always annoyingly fair.
    “You, too,” she admitted grudgingly. Because it was true, darn it. He had done a good job and it worried
    her. She really, really needed the contract, and Cal might be the person who stopped her from getting it.
    The ride whirled up, gravity and centrifugal force working their magic as the swings swung out in a
    wide arc. She’d sat on the inside because she really hadn’t expected company, and he outweighed her. He
    braced himself as the ride turned, but his thigh pressed against hers. The world spun out of focus, and she
    couldn’t hold back the laughter anymore. Cal’s weight changed the swing’s pitch but not in a bad way. On
    the next turn, which came faster and higher, he slid into her—the man had no choice—and she leaned
    forward.
    “There’s Deep Dive.” She leaned forward and pointed to his shop.

    * * *
PIPER LIVED ON the edge.
    Literally.
    Cal wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and gently tugged until she wasn’t quite so close to the
    edge of the seat. The ride had a safety harness, a set of thin chains, which struck Cal as more ornamental
    than functional. The ride’s designers had clearly bet on gravity keeping riders in their places. Equally
    obvious, they’d never planned on Piper. She’d once debated the feasibility of jumping from the ride, when
    it swung out over the ocean at its highest point, and hitting the water.
    He’d never know for certain whether she’d have gone through with the plan or not, but he’d watched
    her like a hawk for the rest of the summer until she’d gone back to the mainland with her family. She’d
    accused him of being an old grandfather. He’d countered that she’d had a death wish.
    Her legs extended in front of her as their swing whirled into the next turn, and she threw her arms over
    her head, shrieking happily. Her right knee didn’t quite straighten all the way, the ridge of scar tissue there a
    visible reminder that some things in life hadn’t worked out for Piper. On the other hand, while the accident
    had put an end to her diving career, she didn’t seem to be in mourning.
    Instead, she’d moved on.
    Or moved back. Cal wasn’t sure which. All he knew was that he was off balance in more ways than
    one, which was pretty much what always happened when he was around Piper.
    They needed to let go of this ridiculous bet. It was a stupid idea and unprofessional. He had no idea
    why he’d agreed to it in the first place, except that when he was around Piper, things seemed to happen.
    That was part of the problem.
    At least he had a captive audience. She couldn’t run away from him now. “About our bet—”
    “You can’t renege,” she said. “Look, you can see my boat.”
    “Piper—”
    “That’s my name.” She slid a sideways glance at him he couldn’t read. Too bad Piper didn’t come with
    an instruction manual. Or an off switch.
    “We can’t do