“Hey, what are you doing?” Eric came into the galley as I was shredding the perfect strength cheddar, which I knew Neill stocked just for me.
“Making myself a cheese sandwich, or changing a tire—delete as appropriate.”
He checked his watch. “But we’re heading to the restaurant in like twenty minutes, and are you grating cheese to go in a cold cheese sandwich?”
I shook my head. “First, with August in your party, you’ll be lucky if you make it out within the hour. Second, I don’t see how I can join you.”
He drew back as if I’d whacked him in the face with a frying pan. “What do you mean?”
I shook the grater, small curls of yellow tumbling onto the board. “I don’t see how I can? I mean, is the captain going to make Hayden a coffee if he wants one?”
“Captain Moss said himself that Hayden had given us all the evening off. Neill’s prepped some food and left it in the refrigerator. Wolf knows there won’t be any crew on board.”
“I know but it doesn’t feel right.” It did go against my instincts to leave a guest on board, knowing there was no crew other than the captain. But the reason I was still in my crew uniform was more complicated. I’d enjoyed watching the sunrise with Hayden the other morning. No one else had been awake and we’d had the boat to ourselves. I could pretend for a moment that he wasn’t a guest and I wasn’t a stewardess. And although I knew it was stupid, reckless even to think like that, I wanted that feeling again. Maybe that was a good reason to go ashore.
“We’re in Italy, dude. You have to come ashore.”
I smiled. Not at anything Eric had said but at the fact that after my conversation with Hayden and my suggestion at moving the yacht, he’d done exactly that.
“Don’t be such a martyr. You’ve got to come. Neill’s told me how much tequila you can drink. I want to see it for myself,” Eric continued.
Neill and I had had a blast in Greece last year. And there’d been far too much tequila between charters. A night out with Neill was guaranteed fun and my dad’s words about me taking time for myself rang in my ears. Maybe I should go, but the problem was I didn’t want to. I swept my hand down my body. “I’m not dressed for it anyway. I really should stick around in case Hayden needs anything.”
“Did Moss say you had to?” Eric asked just as Skylar wandered into the kitchen.
“You’re not changing?” she asked, her gaze flitting down my body.
“Moss ordered her to stay,” Eric said.
I cut my sandwich in half and put it on a plate, then set about cleaning the mess I’d just made. “Captain Moss has done no such thing. I’m chief stew. It’s my job to put the guests first.” It would have been nice to go out tonight and have fun, dance a little, drink a lot. Maybe find a hot deckhand from another yacht to kiss. But it wasn’t a deckhand I wanted a kiss from. Just Hayden’s touch covered my skin in goose bumps and heat. I couldn’t imagine what his lips might do.
If I was staying because of the thought of Hayden’s mouth on mine, perhaps going ashore would be the safe option.
Skylar slumped on the banquet. “You’ve gotta come. It won’t be the same without you. Please. Who will help me find rich, single men who have husband potential?”
“These guys will look after you,” I said, lifting my chin as Neill came into the galley.
“Cheese sandwich?” he asked and I nodded. Although no one was allowed to heat anything up in the kitchen—chefs were territorial—we were all permitted to make ourselves cold food.
“She’s saying she’s not coming tonight,” Skylar said.
“She’s right here,” I said, pointing to myself.
“Why don’t you just come for an hour? I’ll bring you back,” Eric said, his expression pleading. “Or I can stay and once he locks himself in his office, we can head out. You know he never comes out once he’s gone in there for the night. You won’t see him again until tomorrow.”
I could easily go. Eric was right. Hayden had been the person to instigate our night off. He didn’t need looking after. But I didn’t want to leave. “I’m not doing it.”
Neill blew out a breath. “Save your breath, Eric. I’ve tried to talk her out of it, but you know how dedicated she is.”
“I’m dedicated to my tip.” I laughed and took my plate to the dining table, tucking into the banquette next to Eric and Skylar.
“You’re dedicated to the job,” Skylar said. “I’m never going to be a chief stew if this is what it takes. I’m always going to choose husband shopping, vodka and dancing over a guest.”