Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Sawyer

"You better not be showing our hole to a tourist!"

I paused my tour of the resort grounds. Gray, my new hire for Swallow Adventures, looked around in confusion.

Chester emerged from the trees. "This area is for the Weekend Hookers."

Gray's eyes widened. "The what now?"

I laughed. "The Weekend Hookers are anglers. Their fishing hole is just past those trees." I slanted Chester a look. "Although, this property belongs to the resort. You know you'll have to share."

"I don't want to share my hole. A man's hole is precious. It should remain private. I feel like a two-bit hooker!"

Gray rubbed a hand over his mouth. Was he amused or horrified, though? Probably a bit of both.

"We need to be moving on, Chester," I said. "I don't want you to scare away my new hire."

"Oh, a hire. Well, all right then."

"But you know the resort is open for business now," I warned. "Their first guests are beginning to arrive. You can't scare folks off or Skylar will have to boot you right out of here."

Chester looked offended. "He named the fishing hole for us. He wants us around. Plus, Kitty likes me around. I can tell."

Oh, boy. I wasn't so sure Brooks's grandma needed a guy like Chester showing an interest. He was the biggest grump ever, a blowhard that never stopped complaining.

"If you want Skylar to keep liking you, then I suggest you play nice with his guests. Gray and I need to get over to the boats. We've got a tour starting in ten minutes."

I turned and started walking. Gray fell into step beside me.

"He's an interesting character."

"There's a lot of those in Swallow Cove," I said cautiously. "You're going to get all types on these boat tours too. You've got to be able to handle some shit."

"Hey, if I get paid, then I'm happy." He hesitated. "Besides, I've been on the wrong side of the tracks most of my life. I'm used to handling shit."

I ran a gaze over Gray. He was rough around the edges, both arms tatted up, tangled hair that hung down under his ball cap and a beard that could use a trim.

He'd fit right in with some of the country boys in the Ozarks though. Heck, even I had tattoos on my upper arm, just some decorative shit I thought was cool when I was twenty.

"You'll be just fine," I said. "Most folks just want a good time. Just don't let them get carried away. You're responsible for their safety. We don't take that lightly."

He nodded. "You got it."

We reached the docks and readied the boat for launch. I'd been more relaxed today, knowing that Ash would be out on the water in his food boat. Now that he wasn't hanging around the resort so much, maybe things could get back to normal.

Hudson emerged from his office. "You all ready to take off?"

"Yep. I was just running Gray through our safety procedures."

"Perfect," Hudson said with a grin. "Make sure you swing by Master Bites with this tour."

My heart lurched. "Uh, why?"

"Because we want to support our resort partner," Hudson said mildly, though there was a hint of annoyance underlying it.

He shouldn't have to tell me this. He wouldn't have to, if that food boat was run by anyone else.

I sighed. "Right, of course. I wasn't thinking…"

The tour group showed up just then, so Hudson left us to handle the introductions and board the two brothers, Mark and Paul, and their wives, Crystal and Renee.

Once we'd cast off, I let Gray take the wheel. He had plenty of experience driving boats. Otherwise, I wouldn't have hired him.

I ran through the safety spiel, then took a seat in the co-captain's chair and swiveled it in their direction.

"So, what brings you all out on this beautiful day?" I asked.

It really was beautiful, too. Not hot yet, but warm enough to be comfortable. Only a gentle breeze—until we started going faster at any rate—and sun rays dancing over the surface of the smooth water.

"It's our thirtieth birthday," Mark said, gesturing between himself and his brother. "We came on this trip to celebrate the big, awful, 3-0."

Renee laughed and nudged him. "Stop it. You don't look a day over twenty-nine." She paused. "Well, maybe just a day over twenty-nine."

"You're hilarious," he deadpanned.

"So, you're twins?" Gray asked from his seat at the wheel.

"Not identical, obviously."

"Thank goodness," Crystal said. "They're bad enough as it is. Can you imagine if they were exactly alike?"

Renee snorted. "It's a scary thought."

They might not be identical, but they certainly had more in common than I did with Mason. They were a similar height and size, though one of them had hazel eyes and one brown. There was no mistaking the fact they were brothers.

Mason was about four inches shorter than me with strawberry blond hair and freckles. You wouldn't even know we were related unless we told you. We used to joke about one of us being an imposter, but truth was, I favored my dad while he favored our mom.

Sometimes, I wished I'd favored Mom instead, given what kind of selfish asshole Dad turned out to be.

I directed Gray to head east, so we could make a circuit of the best tour spots and launched into my spiel.

"Did you know that the Lake of the Ozarks has more shoreline than all of California? Yep! Over 1,000 miles…"

We were two hours into the tour before we came within passing distance of Master Bites. Ash had stationed the boat closer to the marina today, which I hadn't expected.

There was a line of three cherry-red DreamBoats clustered around him. Clearly he didn't need help building up his business when his stepdad was propping it up for him.

Maybe we should just keep going. I could tell Hudson he was swamped with customers. It was true, even.

"Ooh, what's going on over there?" Crystal asked, killing any hopes that my guests might not be interested.

"That is Master Bites, a new food boat the Swallow's Nest resort is running this season. It's only been operating for a few days."

"Oh, wow. We booked in at the B&B. If we'd realized the resort was open…"

I nodded. "It's just reopening after a full remodel. And even if you don't stay there, they've got an amazing restaurant with the best food you'll ever eat. It's open to the public now."

Paul's eyes lit up. "How good is it? So many touristy places have mediocre food for fine-dining prices."

I chuckled. "Well, that's one great thing about Swallow Cove. We're small enough that we get some tourism, but not enough to really take over our identity. We've got some great food, but the resort is the best you'll find. Of course, I'm a little biased since the chef is my mom."

Gray spoke up. "He took me over for lunch. The scallop linguini was so good I almost cried."

They all laughed at the notion of this tough guy shedding tears in his pasta.

"Is the resort a family operation then?" Mark asked.

"Yes and no," I said. "It's not your conventional family, but the owner is a good friend. We're all as close as family, even if we're not related."

"Aw, that's just so sweet," Renee said.

Gray brought us around the far side of Master Bites and lowered the throttle so we could ease into line.

We were close enough now that I could see Ash's face.

"Did you all want to order something?" I asked. "You could always grab lunch at the resort if you don't want to wait."

"Is the menu the same?" Paul asked.

"Not really. I believe they coordinate on their ingredients for the specials."

"Let's wait," Crystal said. "We're not in a hurry, and it'll be fun to say we ate at a food boat. We've never done that."

I resigned myself to facing Ash. Maybe he'd be too focused on his work to make it awkward.

There was no sign of his usual cocky smile. When I'd run into him on the lake, he'd always delighted in riling me up. As far as I could tell now, he hadn't even seen me.

His forehead was furrowed, eyes narrowed in concentration.

A voice drifted to me from the boat ahead of us.

"Come on, dude. I'm starving!"

"Yeah," came another voice. "How long is this going to take?"

"Sorry," Ash said, voice tight. "I've just got a little problem with the fryer, but I'll?—"

"Forget it, man. We're out."

The first boat in the line sped off. Shit. That wasn't good. Was Ash in over his head out here?

The second DreamBoat eased into its place. "We want whatever won't take another twenty minutes."

"Just give me your order," Ash said. "I'll get it done as fast as I can."

They rattled off a handful of items, and Ash disappeared from the window. There was still one more boat between them and us, however.

"Bring us around to the stern," I told Gray. "I'm going to see what's going on in there."

"Sure thing."

Gray eased us back out of the line and around the backside of the boat.

"You can hold down the fort?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Of course."

"Don't try this at home," I added for my tourists' sake, then stepped up onto the side of the boat and climbed over the stern of the pontoon food boat.

I opened the door to the kitchen and barged in.

Ash jumped at the sight of me and dropped the bowl in his hands. Little yellow muffin things scattered across the floor.

"Goddamn it! Now, I can't serve the Lobster-Mac Souffles either!"

"Souffles?" I asked dubiously. "They look like muffins."

He huffed. "Who's the fucking food expert here?"

"I don't know," I said, gazing at the chaos that was Ash's work kitchen.

The fryer baskets were clogged with burned remnants of something. A stack of dirty dishes stood in the sink. A pile of cardboard food baskets was tipped onto the floor.

That was without taking in Ash. His T-shirt was stained three different colors and he had a white streak across his forehead, as if he'd swiped sauce there while shoving back his hair.

The man was a mess. His kitchen was a mess.

"I think you're in over your head."

"Fuck off," Ash snarled. "I don't have time for you to tear me down. I have shit to do."

"That's why I'm here. Tell me how to help."

He glanced between me and the window, where customers were waiting. "You better not be here to sabotage me."

I snorted. "Looks like you're doing that all on your own. I'm just here so you don't embarrass the resort or my mom."

Ash cringed, and my stomach twisted uncomfortably.

"I didn't mean that."

"You did," he said shortly. "It's fine. Just wash your hands and then work on the sliders. The brisket is in the crockpot, and I've laid out buns. I'll grab the toppings."

"Got it."

Despite the mess of the kitchen, everything was precisely where Ash said, and I got to work.

Behind me, he muttered, "Okay, no souffles. No fryer baskets until I can clean them. So…"

"Turn some of this slaw topping into coleslaw or something," I said. "There's no time for cooking."

Ash blinked. "Yeah, not a bad idea."

He turned and started whisking mayonnaise, apple cider vinegar, and a few spices together, then dumped some slaw into it with a quick stir.

"I could make it a lot better with more time?—"

I grabbed the fork he'd used to stir it together and tasted it. "Mm. Damn. If it got any better, I'd worry for my mom's job."

Ash looked shocked, and I quickly turned away. "Not that she'd ever be in a mess like this one."

"No kidding," he grumbled.

We finished the order together—me mostly playing gopher while Ash improvised on his menu. When it was finished, Ash shoved the bag out of the order window. "Here you go."

"Finally," the guy said as he took it. "Dude, your stepdad was right. You don't know what you've gotten yourself into."

"Yeah, thanks," he said flatly.

The next boat was ours. Gray slowly eased up in front of the order window. Beside me, Ash was vibrating with tension. His face was still red from his embarrassing encounter, and his jaw looked tight enough to crack a tooth.

I gently nudged him aside and leaned out the window. "Hey, y'all. Thanks for your patience."

The two couples beamed up at me. "It's a beautiful day out. There's no rush to get anywhere."

"What would you like? Keep in mind, we're out of fried food, so it'll have to be something grilled or fresh."

Paul nodded. "I think those jerk chicken tacos look good."

"Ooh, and I want the bacon-wrapped scallops. That sounds amazing!"

They happily placed an order that didn't require any frying. When I turned from the window, Ash was already pulling ingredients from the refrigerator.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yep." He placed four scallops and two slices of bacon on the grill. "I can take it from here."

"Maybe all this is too much for?—"

"Don't say it," he warned sharply. "It's not too much for me."

"I was going to say, too much for just one person."

"I'm fine," he insisted. "In fact, why don't you show yourself out? I've got a handle on this. You don't have to worry about me embarrassing your mom."

I opened my mouth to apologize. It had been thoughtless to say that when Ash was under so much pressure. I might not like the guy, he might have broken my trust when we were teens, riled me up more times than I could count, and confused the fuck out of me with that kiss, but he was working a lot harder than I expected.

Kind of ironic that his stepdad's attempt to send him business had overwhelmed him. What happened once the season was in full swing?

Ash might not think he needed help, but he obviously did.

And what kind of resort employee would I be if I didn't tell Skylar that Ash needed an assistant if they didn't want Master Bites to sink before it could swim?