Page 60 of Knockin' Boats
And then? Well, then he kissed the protest right off my lips. And I was a sucker for it every time.
“Double order for falafel,” he called Monday afternoon.
“Just the falafel?”
“Yup.”
“No Greek salad on the side?”
He shrugged. “They didn’t ask for it.”
“Saw, come on!” I said. “You’ve got to upsell the side items. If you’re not gonna fucking do the job right?—”
Sawyer grabbed my face and smacked a kiss to my lips. “Just toss the falafel in the fryer, will you?”
I turned with a grumble and got to work. Every time, every freaking time I tried to make a point, Sawyer pulled this shit. The worst part was, I wasn’t even mad about it. Ilikedit too much.
Sawyer went out to the deck to cool off while I finished the order and served it. He had even less tolerance for the heat than I did. Maybe I had his boiling brain to thank for all the kissing.
I walked out the door. “We need to do some cleanup.”
Sawyer shook his head. “In a minute.”
“It’ll be much easier on us tonight if we clean as we go.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
“Sawyer…”
“You’re not my fucking boss,” he snapped. “I’m here to help you out, but this isn’t my job and I’m tired of?—”
Turnabout was fair play. I grabbed his face and kissed him. His lips parted in surprise, so I took a taste. A soft sound rose in his throat, then his fingers threaded through my hair and pulled.
I groaned and bit his lip in retribution.
“Fuck!” he gasped, pulling back to touch his bloody lip.
“Poor baby,” I crooned, then leaned in and ran my tongue over the tiny cut.
Sawyer stood very still, as if he were torn between pulling me closer or shoving me away. I decided not to test my theory that if his restraint truly broke, he’d rip off my clothes before he ever hurt me.
I stepped back. “Take five minutes. Then join me for cleanup.”
“Okay,” he muttered. “But you’re still too fucking bossy.”
I shot a grin over my shoulder. “Comes with the territory of actually being theboss.”
When we got back that night, I once again had too many leftovers. I couldn’t even blame Sawyer this time, because he’d tried to recommend them a few times. Not every time, but definitely more than that first day.
People just weren’t all that adventurous after a day on the lake. Vera had sold a few of the items with better luck at the restaurant, but some things just didn’t keep well enough to continue serving.
I lingered in the kitchen, waiting until she had a free moment. It didn’t look to be happening anytime soon, so I jumped in and helped the sous chef on the prep.
“What are you doing, Ash?” Vera finally asked. “You worked all day on the boat.”
“You all were in the weeds.”
“Wasn’t putting up with my son enough to exhaust you?” She shook her head. “I remember what he was like in the kitchen.Hopeless.”
