Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
It’s the look he has in his eyes whenever his gaze is on me. It’s like I’m his or something. Like he knows something I don’t. Like he paid someone or something off and now he has ownership over me.
And the craziest part is, I like it. I want to be his.
“Try this,” Santiago says as he comes over with a full spoon. I moan as I taste the most delicious fish that’s drenched in a heavenly sauce.
“You’re good,” I say as I wipe the corner of my mouth with my finger. “If you ever want a wife, Santiago. Please think of me first.”
He laughs as he tosses the spoon into the sink and checks on his vegetables that are grilling on the monstrous stove. This man is such a prima donna that he made our company replace the entire kitchen to his specifications before he would even agree to an interview.
“I couldn’t do that to you,” he says with a grin. “I’d feed you until you weighed four hundred pounds.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’d like that,” I say with a laugh. “I wouldn’t be able to get up the stairs.”
“A chef who has a skinny wife is no chef at all.” I laugh as he tosses some spices into his sizzling pan.
This guy has everyone who steps onto the boat running scared, but not me. He tried that nonsense when I stepped into his kitchen on my first day.
He threatened to cut a finger off if I ever walked in here again. I grabbed a knife as well then told him it was my job to be checking in here and if he didn’t like it, he’d have a fresh pair of testicles to put into his sauce. He laughed and we’ve been friends ever since.
His eyes dart over to where I’m leaning on the stainless steel counter.
“Who are you hiding from?”
I laugh as I shake my head. “I don’t know. A guy, I guess.”
He straightens his back as he grabs a butcher’s knife. “Want me to cut him?”
“What happened to you as a child?” I ask with a shake of my head. “Why do you always go straight to knives?”
“I’m a chef. That’s what we do.”
“No. That’s what you do.”
He just shrugs as he carefully analyzes the sizzling food in his pan like a bomb inspector working on a live device. “So, who is this guy?”
I sigh as I look up at the ceiling. “Nobody, I guess.”
He’s just like all the other guys I come across. Yeah, they might show interest for the few days they’re here, but they inevitably leave. They always leave.
“He doesn’t sound like nobody.”
“Trust me,” I say with a sigh. “It’s nobody.”
He pulls the fish out of the oven, places it on the plates, and drowns it in a creamy buttery sauce that these guys are probably going to be puking up later tonight.
“Should I get Mila to help us out?” I ask as I grab a few plates.
“No,” he snaps. “This is my masterpiece. I’m serving it.”
I kick the door open and we head out to serve the boys.
“What is this disrespect?” Santiago hisses when we see the empty table. Well, empty except for Luke. He’s the only one still sitting there.
“Where did everyone go?” I ask Mila who’s on her phone again.
“They wanted to grab some fast food on land before hitting the clubs,” she says with a shrug.
“Fast food?!” Santiago growls as his whole body tightens. He starts swearing in Spanish as he kicks the door back open. It swings closed as the sound of plates smashing hits our cringing ears.
“How did they get there?” I ask Mila.
“Knut and Eivind took them in the shuttle boat. Julie went with them.”
“What?!” I snap. “I was gone for like eight minutes!”
She shrugs.
“Fine,” I say with a huff of breath. I turn my attention to the only remaining guest and walk over with the two plates. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” he says as he looks me over. I get a shiver, thinking he’s not talking about the food.
“He’s eating on the deck upstairs,” Mila says as she simultaneously talks and types. “Ashley is setting it up.”
“Why am I even here?” I ask in disbelief. “Do I even have to be at work?”
“It doesn’t look like it,” Luke says with a grin. “So, come and join me.”
I laugh. “Out of the question.”
“Because you already ate?”
“No, because I’m working.”
“You just said that you don’t need to be here,” he says as he stands up. He’s so big. He’s towering over me even with the large table between us. “And besides, I’m the only guest here for the night, so I expect one on one service.” He takes the plates from me, which is nice because my hands are starting to ache. “So, come eat with me.”
I hesitate for a second, but then follow him up the stairs and outside. “Wow,” I whisper when I see the table for two set up on the deck. We have a gorgeous panoramic view of the lit-up shoreline, the ocean, the emerging stars, and the setting sun. All with a nice warm breeze. It’s stunning. It’s perfect.