Page 54 of Knockin' Boats
For the next twenty minutes, I loaded coolers and carted them out to the boat. Ash chopped mushrooms and onions and peppers and fucking who knew what else right up to the last second.
Either, running a food boat took a hell of a lot more work than I realized, or Ash was keeping busy so he could make me do all the heavy lifting.
I returned from my trip down to the boat. “C’mon, Ash. Haul ass.”
He closed the lid on a mini cooler that held falafel—why that had to be frozen, I didn’t know—and picked up a box full of pantry ingredients.
I held the door while he crossed the room. As soon as he got to me, he shoved them both into my arms.
“Carry that like a good boy, would you?”
“Fuck off.”
Ash laughed as he dashed out the door ahead of me. “Being the boss is fun!”
“Until your employee kills you,” I muttered.
He looked back at me as we made our way down to the dock. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” I said with a serene smile. “Just admiring this beautiful day.”
Ash snorted, clearly skeptical, but he didn’t call me on it.
Getting to the boat was sweet relief. Ash couldn’t make me do all his grunt work while I was easing the boat out of dock and driving it to the spot over by the marina.
Apparently, Ash had tried a few places last week and it got the best drive-by traffic.
The boat moved like a snail. A pontoon houseboat wasn’t built for speed, and with all the kitchen equipment, it was even more weighed down.
As we puttered along, I realized he’d played me by saying he wouldn’t have time to prep while we made the drive.
“You play dirty, Ash Dixon!” I called.
“What?”
“You play?—”
The door opened and Ash emerged just as I yelled, “dirty.”
“Dirty?” He looked appalled. “My kitchen is pristine. I have to work extra hard at it on a boat, but I clean it every night.”
“No, not the kitchen,” I said with a snort. “You.”
“Me?” Ash looked down at himself as if expecting to find stains on his clothing.
He’d removed the button-up he wore at the resort, revealing a turquoise tank top that hugged his torso like a second skin. His shoulders gleamed bronze in the sunlight.
Ash glanced up with a mischievous grin. “I guess I’mdirtysometimes. But I don’t know why you’re thinking about that.”
Heat rushed into my face. “That’s not what I meant.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s not,” I insisted. “You play dirty. That’s what I said.”
His lips twitched. “It’s okay, Saw. You’re a little obsessed with me. I get it now.”
“I am notobsessed,” I spluttered. “With— What? No! I just meant you were playing me with all that prep you couldn’t do when…” I trailed off as he continued to laugh at me. “Oh, fuckoffand go cook something. I was promised food.”
