Page 23 of Falling Overboard

Which was still debatable.

I knew how things would go and so I had to find a way to stuff down my raging hormones or I was going to lose my job.

Chapter Nine

Lucky

While I was distributing drinks, Mrs. Carmine thanked me and then said, “My friend Irene has a hankering for some homemade vanilla ice cream and I was hoping you could arrange that for us. She prefers it over store-bought.”

I kept my features even, trying not to react. “Of course. I’ll get the chef right on that for you.”

But I knew what Andre would do when I told him. He was currently in the midst of creating a charcuterie board and vegetable and fruit trays for the guests to snack on. He wouldn’t be happy about having to make ice cream because he hated disruptions to his routines. He liked things to be fairly predictable.

I’d never understood why he’d gone into yachting, which was the total opposite of predictable. You never knew from one hour to the next what was going to happen or what the guests would require from you.

When I got to the galley, I let Andre know about the request in a very calm tone. He pressed his lips together in a thin line, which I knew meant that he was displeased, but thankfully, he didn’t yell or throw any pans. I counted that as a win.

“You can take those upstairs,” he said, pointing at the trays he’d prepared. Every single one looked like a work of art. I radioed Georgiaand asked her to come help me so that we could bring all the serving trays upstairs at the same time.

The chef pulled the eggs out of the walk-in to start the base for the ice cream. He might have slammed the door a bit harder than was necessary but again, all things considered, it could have been much worse.

Georgia helped me with the trays, which the guests oohed and aahed over. I told Mrs. Carmine, “The chef is working on the ice cream and I will bring it up as soon as it is ready.”

“Take your time, dear.”

Then my afternoon turned into running back and forth from the deck to the galley to update the Carmines on Andre’s progress. I offered multiple times to refresh their drinks or to bring them more snacks but they always demurred. As those hours went by, we reached our anchorage point and the entire boat trembled slightly as the crew lowered the anchor into the water.

I wondered if Hunter was helping them.

Not long after that Andre announced that he was done and served me up a bowl of vanilla ice cream with whipped cream and caramel lace tuile. I knew it killed him to not do something extra or over the top for the presentation, but it was already more than enough for a last-minute and unexpected request.

When I got to the sundeck with the ice cream, I noticed that all of the female guests were at the stern of the boat, staring down. I went over to join them.

What had they seen? A dolphin? A whale? Sightings like that were rare in this area of the Mediterranean but it wasn’t unheard of.

Not a marine mammal. They were staring at Hunter.

Who had his shirt off.

He was setting up the floating deck so that the guests could use the Jet Skis and other water toys.

One of the women sighed and I completely understood. I had only glimpsed paradise last night when I’d seen the barest hint of his shoulders. But this?

I had been admitted to the promised land and it was Hunter Smith’s glorious chest.

It was like watching a masterpiece come to life, every muscle and sinew moving and flexing, the strength on display making me feel a bit woozy.

I fanned my face with my free hand. He was making me overheated.

He had to put his shirt back on. He was going to give these poor women a heart attack.

He was going to givemea heart attack.

Plus, it was against the rules. Thomas and François must have been setting up the waterslide or else they would have told him it wasn’t allowed. I was the only person who could tell him to cover up.

I wished that I could yell at him from here because it would be much safer with all this distance and these elderly people at my side to keep my piping-hot libido in check. But I couldn’t make a scene in front of the guests.

“Ice cream!” I announced, and Irene reached for it without taking her gaze off Hunter. I glanced over at their husbands, who sat on the couches in the shade and wondered what they thought about this. I gave her the bowl and then turned immediately to go down the stairs that led to the back of the ship.

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