Page 53 of Knockin' Boats
I exchanged a skeptical look with Sawyer. Our first moment of solidarity, and we were definitely on the same page.
Playing nice wasnotlikely to come easy.
CHAPTER 13
Sawyer
Ash was already in the resort kitchen when I arrived an hour before boat launch two days later.
“Hey, Sawyer, about time,” he said. “There’s a lot to do before we head out. This isn’t like your other job. You can’t just show up and drive the boat.”
I glared at the large knife gleaming in his hand. Probably not the best time to tell him where he could shove this fucking job.
“I’m here now,” I said shortly. “So how about we get to it?”
He pointed to a pile of sweet potatoes. “Wash and peel those while I finish my other prep.”
“You can do that while I drive the boat. Just tell me what to load up and let’s go.”
Ash shook his head. “It’s a short drive, and I’ve got other things to do after this.”
“Folks might not even show up for a while,” I argued.
I wasn’t sure why I was arguing, other than I was in a foul temper. My mother, the traitor, chose that moment to come up behind me.
“Sawyer, hon, the chef always knows best.” She flicked the bill of my ball cap. “You should know that by now.”
Over the weekend, I’d tried talking to her about lending Ash some qualified kitchen staff instead of me. I’d pulled out every possible argument to appeal to her chef’s sensibilities about who she’d want in her kitchen.
She hadn’t even batted an eye. “We’re far too busy in the restaurant to hamstring ourselves right now. Besides, you boys need to learn to get along. Skylar thinks working more closely will do the trick. I figure you’ll either become friends again or kill each other. Either way, problem solved.”
“Damn, Mom, that’s harsh,” I’d said, shocked.
She’d laughed and patted my face. “Don’t worry, hon. I know you’re a survivor.”
I stomped over to the sink, still peeved, and started washing fucking potatoes.
I’d made it through peeling about half the pile when Ash came over, leaning in close to look over my shoulder, breath hot on my neck.
I edged away. “Do you mind?”
“This is all you’ve got done?” Ash asked, sounding disappointed.
A heavy weight dropped into my gut. I didn’t want to care what fucking Ash thought of my work performance. Hell, I wasn’t a sous chef, I was a boat driver.
I was just wired to care about everything I did.
“I’ll try to go faster.”
“No, that’s okay.” Ash nudged me away. “Go put ice in the cooler by the door while I finish this.”
“I can go fast?—”
“Just do it, Saw. I don’t have time to argue every little thing.”
With a growl, I turned on my heel and went to the walk-in freezer to retrieve bags of ice. The refrigerated air cooled my heated cheeks.
We hadn’t even left yet, and I already wanted to toss Ash in the fucking lake.
