Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

Ash

Charity Rasmussen was my new Sawyer—in the kitchen, anyway.

She'd been among a small handful of applicants with actual culinary skills. Not a lot of people were lining up to spend the day in a hot food boat, but she seemed jazzed at the prospect of getting hands-on experience.

I had to drive the boat to our setup point for the day, but that was all right. Charity had helped a lot in the resort kitchen, washing, peeling, and slicing potatoes for fries in a fraction of the time it would have taken Sawyer. If he did it at all.

She'd been less help on the lugging heavy objects, but that was to be expected, considering she was five-foot-nothing and the size of a kewpie doll. A kewpie doll that wielded a butcher knife with scary efficiency though.

I anchored the boat a few hundred yards from the resort today. It was not because I wanted to increase the odds Sawyer would swing by. I liked to move around the lake, hitting different areas, and it'd been a while since I set up over here.

That was all.

Although Sawyer would be more likely to come by here than take a tour by the marina. But that was just a coincidence.

Besides, I had more important things to think about than the guy I was getting off with—even if the sex was fucking unreal. Like the best I'd ever had.

Was that because it was a guy or because it was Sawyer? Probably?—

Nope. Getting distracted again.

I anchored us in place, then pulled out my phone to update the Master Bites socials so folks knew where to find us today.

Then I entered the kitchen and stopped short in shock.

Charity was at the prep counter, slicing away.

"What are you doing?" I rushed over, taking stock of the ingredients before her. Onions, already finely diced. Minced jalapenos. Mangoes ready to go under the blade next.

And…garlic?

"I'm prepping the fresh mango salsa for the tacos," she said. "Is that…wrong? Did you want me to mix up the tahini sauce and aioli instead?"

I shook my head. "Sawyer just took the orders. I managed the food."

"Oh." She set the knife down. "You didn't seem to mind me helping prep in the resort kitchen?"

That was true. It'd been nice actually, to have an extra pair of capable hands. I did most the heavy prep in the kitchen, so that while on the boat it was mainly just the freshest items that needed whipping up.

"Yeah, I… I was just surprised," I said. "But there's no garlic in my mango salsa."

"Well, there should be," she said with a smug smile. "Garlic makes everything better."

I narrowed my eyes. "Not in my salsa. And add cilantro."

"Yes, chef!" she said cheerfully as she went back to slicing.

I set up the crockpot, whipped up a couple of sauces, and moved the falafel that Charity had stored in the refrigerator to the freezer.

She sent me a curious look. "Why…"

"First time I made those, I learned that they fall apart in the fryer if they're not cold enough or the oil is too hot. When they're frozen? It's a sure thing every time."

"Oh, interesting."

"Yeah, ask me how I learned that lesson. It was not fun."

Charity chuckled. "I bet not."

"If Sawyer hadn't come by and barged in to help unasked, I might have totally melted down." I shook my head, smiling. I could see the whole situation with more amusement now. Even the part where Sawyer saved my ass while supposedly hating me.

He hadn't really hated me, even then. A lot of guys—guys without grudges—would have shrugged it off as not their problem. They would have let me drown on my own.

Not Sawyer.

"This Sawyer guy must have been a great assistant, huh?" Charity said. "I feel like I have big shoes to fill."

I barked a laugh. "Uh, no. He was kind of the opposite."

She raised her eyebrows. "But you keep bringing him up. I just assumed you missed him."

I may have mentioned him once or a dozen times while we were prepping and loading the boat.

Sawyer was my only frame of reference for working with someone on the boat, of course. But it wasn't just that. He was Sawyer. I did miss his snarky mouth, his bossy opinions, his winding me up only to kiss the crap out of me. Not to mention the skinny dipping…

Couldn't make out or skinny dip with Charity, could I? She wasn't likely to grab me by the throat and make me so hard my head spun.

"Oh. Uh. Well." How to explain? "We're old friends. He was just helping out on the boat temporarily, not as a chef. He was a pain in the ass, really, but he did make me see I needed to tweak my menu and figure out what people really wanted. Find a way to blend what I want to prepare with what people want to order."

"Ah. Yeah. I saw a few of the menu items." Charity's eyes twinkled. "Those are some interesting dish names."

I laughed. "Yeah, well, when you can't beat the backwater hicks, you join them, right? I can say that because I'm a backwater hick, born and bred."

"Oh yeah?" She laughed. "Well, me too. And I love the Nauti Fries you've got on there. It's so clever, because those fries are gourmeted the fuck up." She covered her mouth. "Ope. Sorry for cussing."

"Cuss up a storm. I sure will when we get busy."

She chuckled. "Okay, cool."

"Yeah, I tried calling them truffle artisan fries my first week. That did not fly. But the worst thing was my spicy sweet potato and beet sandwich."

She winced. "Tough sell?"

"The toughest. I don't think there's a lake pun that would sell that one. It was delicious though. Even Sawyer liked it, and he—" I stopped short and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Don't be," she said. "Now that I know he's a friend and not some sort of chef competition, I'm good."

Charity was great, and we worked well side by side. It was an adjustment when the first orders came in. She initially took a few of them, but it became clear she didn't have the knack for charming customers that Sawyer did from years of boat tours.

Instead of her handling all the orders and me handling all the food, we ended up taking it in turns. We stumbled over each other's toes a few times. It was a small kitchen, and we didn't know each other's rhythms, but toward the late afternoon we finally synced up.

When a boat motor came into earshot an hour after the lunch rush, Charity hopped up. "I'll get this one."

I was in the middle of scraping down the grill, so I nodded my thanks and carried on.

"Hey, welcome to Master Bites," Charity said. "Have you all been to our food boat before?"

"I have," Sawyer answered. "But these other folks are new to it."

"Okay, well?—"

"Sawyer, hey!" I hip-checked Charity out of the way so quickly she flew two feet across the kitchen. Whoops. She was so tiny. "What brings you over this way?"

Sawyer waved to the tourists on the boat. "I got some hungry guests. They wanted to check it out."

"I'm not that hungry," a kid on the boat said.

"Shh, honey," her mom said. "He wants us to see the food boat. It's a new feature on the lake."

Sawyer reddened a little. "I figured it was on the way back to dock."

"Right." I crossed my arms on the windowsill and leaned forward. "I've got popsicles."

The little girl perked up. "Really?"

"Yep. They're homemade," I said for her parents' benefit. "Real fruit. We've got strawberry, cherry, or blueberry."

"Those do sound good," her dad said. "Let's take one of each."

Charity opened the freezer to retrieve the fruit pops I'd made. These were one item I could make it bulk and preserve over a number of days, so I kept them on the menu every week.

"I, uh, wouldn't mind one either," Sawyer said. "Whichever kind is your favorite."

"My favorite, huh?" I eyed him, noticing the small hickey I'd left on his neck with a rush of pride. "Not sure my favorite popsicle is on the menu."

His eyes widened. "Uh, whatever you think I'd like then."

I gave him a searing look. Oh, I knew what he liked. Sawyer blushed right on cue, and I laughed as I turned to call to Charity. "Throw in an extra cherry for Sawyer. It's my favorite flavor."

Making him stammer and blush was fun. A nice ego boost too, because Sawyer was eating me up with his eyes as if he was desperate to get me alone and sample another kind of popsicle.

Charity joined me at the window, handing over the frozen treats.

"Here you go."

"This one's on the house," I added.

Sawyer hesitated as he reached for his wallet. "You sure?"

"Consider it a free sample. Come back if you want more." I licked my lips. "You know where to find me."

"I do," he said, his voice a bit husky.

"These are so good," the pretty brunette mom on the boat enthused. "Wow. Thank you."

I nodded. "Have a great time. Sawyer's the best."

"He must be," Charity muttered under her breath.

I shot her a look, but then the family was calling out goodbyes and waving, and Sawyer hit the throttle. I watched them go, unable to tear my eyes off him, even when all I could see was the back of his head.

"Well, that explains a lot," Charity said.

"Hmm?"

"You could have just told me Sawyer's your boyfriend."

I jerked my head toward her. "My boy— What? No. He's not."

"You do know I have eyes? All that flirting was pretty blatant. And that wasn't I've got a crush on this guy flirting. That was I 've seen this guy naked flirting."

"You can't possibly tell that."

"Am I wrong?"

I hesitated just a beat too long. She gave me a knowing smile. "See? You've seen him naked and you want to do it again. Am I right?"

I floundered for an answer. "Uh, that's… Well." I shook my head. "This isn't really an appropriate conversation for the workplace. Why don't you grab the mop?"

"Playing the boss card, huh? You've got it bad."

"Go work," I said sternly.

She laughed and went to the small closet where we stored the broom, mop, and other cleaning supplies. "Okay, I'll mop. But just so you know, you and Sawyer are dirtier than this floor."

"Charity!"

She cackled with laughter as she got to work.

It was possible I'd established too much of a friend dynamic with my new employee if she thought she could comment on my sex life. Also possible she wasn't wrong in the slightest. I had been flirting with Sawyer pretty blatantly. And I did want to see him naked again.

And maybe, just maybe, I wanted to tease him so he'd want me just as badly.

My phone buzzed with a text, and since we weren't busy, I pulled it out to check.

Sawyer:

Meet me after work?

Ash:

I don't know. I might have plans.

Sawyer:

Don't fuck with me, Ash. You made my dick hard.

I laughed with delight, and when Charity tried to peek over my shoulder, I slapped my phone to my chest. "Back to work, wench."

She grinned. "If you wanna sext, go out on the deck. It's more private."

"I'm not sexting," I said, but I still took her advice and ducked out of the kitchen. The breeze coming off the water was instant relief. I took a seat on the deck, breathing in the fresh air.

Then I checked the phone again. Sawyer had gotten impatient.

Sawyer:

I'll be waiting at your place.

Sawyer:

With your favorite popsicle to lick.

Sawyer:

Me. I'm the popsicle.

Sawyer:

Ash?

Sawyer:

Too much?

Ash:

Sorry, got busy.

Sawyer:

I don't feel like an idiot or anything.

I smirked down at the phone. This was what I needed. Sawyer, horny for me. Sawyer, a little desperate. Not for anyone else. But for me.

I needed to know I wasn't the only one with this need clawing at my insides.

Maybe we couldn't be boyfriends. Maybe that was asking too much. But I could make sure he craved me over anyone else. That he couldn't get enough of me.

Ash:

Come by my place later?

Sawyer:

Will do.

Ash:

And keep that popsicle hard for me.

Sawyer:

Fucking hell.

Ash:

See you soon ;)