"It's usually pretty fun," Lily agreed. "And on occasion it's a pain in the rear—depending on the guests, and to a lesser degree, the weather."
Veronica nodded. "Working with the public can be hard."
"Yeah. They can definitely make or break your day. And since the groups we take out tend to be mostly men, being the only woman aboard can occasionally be awkward."
"You get hit on?"
"Not by the crew. There's just three of us: the captain, first mate, and me—and Jack and Ben have never been anything but professional. But every now and again I have an incident with a guest. For the most part everyone is pretty cool—they usually take no for an answer with good grace. Only once did it turn into a real problem. Now, that was one of the not-so-fun trips."
"So, aside from the obvious of being on a boat, how does a yacht chef differ from being a chef for a restaurant?"
"It's much more intimate." Fitting the last glass in the top rack, she added detergent, closed the dishwasher door, and turned it on. As the machine began its gentle churning, she turned to lean a hip against the counter and gave her complete attention to Veronica. "In a restaurant patrons are there for maybe three hours, and only rarely does the chef come out to meet them. On the boat, we're thrown together for anywhere from three days to a week. And I'm a jack-of-all-trades there. In a restaurant, I'd have a kitchen crew and a wait staff, but the Argosy's , galley is minuscule and sleeping space is limited, so except for rare occasions I take care of everything myself. I plan menus and lay in supplies. Then I prep, cook, serve, and clean up." She waved a dismissive hand. "But enough about me. What do you do?"
Veronica had barely begun telling her when Coop poked his head in the door. "There you are," he said, gazing at his wife with a soft expression. Pulling his gaze away, he looked over at Lily. "Do you mind if I borrow her for a while? Glynnis is asking to spend a little time with her. She wants to get to know her better before we have to shove off." He shot her a cocky smile. "I think she wants to make sure Ronnie's good enough for me."
"Oh, by all means, then." Lily smiled at Veronica. "Thank you for your help."
"Thank you for the lunch."
"Yeah, it was great," Coop added. "Ronnie tells me my earlier compliment was—how did you put it, sweet-pea?—'heavy-handed, chauvinistic pap'? So I take back the 'looking like you do' part. But you're still a killer cook."
She glanced at Veronica, and they both laughed.
Coop shrugged good-naturedly. "Still didn't get it right, huh?"
"Close enough," Lily said. "And thank you. I appreciate the sentiment. I just wish you guys were going to be around long enough for me to make you a meal truly worthy of these nice compliments."
Coop's dark eyebrows rose toward his blond hairline. "Tell you what. You get Midnight to bring you by our place on your way back to California, and we'll take you up on that. We'll supply the ingredients if you'll do the cooking."
"Deal." But when Lily thought about it after Coop and Veronica left, it plunged her back into a case of the poor-pitiful-me's. Zach was out flirting with Cassidy in the other room while she did the Cinderella-sans-the-prince thing here in the kitchen. What did that say about him wanting the kind of relationship with her that included spur of the moment side trips to visit his friends?
Not much.
She was taking her frustration out on a messy pan with a scrubby and a lot of elbow grease when two strong arms suddenly slid around her waist and a warm mouth pressed a kiss into the contour of her neck. With a startled squeak, she jumped.
"Hey, there," Zach murmured, bending his knees and snuggling up behind her. "You almost finished with KP duty?"
"What do you care?" She hunched her shoulder, dislodging his lips from the susceptible spot in her neck. "The last time I looked, you seemed pretty darn pleased to be otherwise occupied."
He stilled, and for a moment she thought he was going to withdraw. But before she could decide whether she would welcome or regret a retreat, a soft sigh es-caped him and he rested his chin on her shoulder. "You're talking about Cassidy, right? Look, I'm, uh, sorry about that. I got the impression today that maybe she's not as bad as she'd like us to believe, and I was feeling my Wheaties, so when she started to flirt I just kinda went with the flow. C'mon ." Tightening his arms around her, he wiggled his pelvis against her bottom. "Don't be mad at me, okay? I'm feeling too good."
And because she'd seen that glimmer of humanity in Cassidy herself, and considering how enamored she was with this playful side of Zach, she relaxed her tense shoulders. "Hmm." She leaned back against him. "You do feel good."
He made a contented sound and went back to nuzzling her neck. "You always smell so fine," he murmured, kissing his way up the side of her throat. "Like lemon cookies, or something. It makes me wanna just eat you up."
She dropped the scrubby into the pan and reached for a towel to dry her hands. While she was occupied, he removed the belt that had been returned to her when Richard was released into the sheriff's custody, sliding it off and dropping it to the floor. Then his hands stole up over her ribs beneath her sweater. A second later warm fingers cupped her breasts.
"Oh!" She dropped the towel, and reaching up and back, curled her hands around the back of his neck, an action that pressed her breasts more firmly into his hard-skinned hands.
He sucked in air. "What color bra are you wearing today?" His voice was a husky rasp. "You always have the greatest underwear."
"Pink. Or maybe bronze. Lord, I don't remember." Reluctantly breaking contact, she turned in his arms. "We could check it out." And her hands went to the hem of her top.
Zach's own hands itched as he watched the soft material inch its way up, exposing first Lily's smooth-skinned, tiny waist, then the rounded undersides of her breasts, covered in some cobweb fine, sheer material. "Blue," he said huskily. "With green thready stuff."
"Embroidery." Which disappeared from view when she promptly dropped the top.
"Hey," he protested. "That's what's known as negative progress."
"It's all the progress you're going to see, though, buddy. Because if you think I'm taking my clothes off in the middle of the kitchen, you're deluded."
He looked around him. "Oh. Yeah. Good point." He bent to kiss her again, and was pleased to see the heavy-lidded arousal back in her eyes when he lifted his head to gaze down at her. Using his index finger, he rubbed the small slick of moisture left behind into her soft lower lip. "Wanna come upstairs with me?"
Still heavy-eyed, she gave him a sleepy smile and nodded.
Weaving their fingers together, he stepped back. For a second, he got caught up in the sight of her hand in his. It was all but swallowed within his grasp, and he found it amazing that so much competency could come out of something so delicate. Then he tightened his grip and headed for the door with her firmly in tow.
Before they could make their escape, though, the door banged open and Glynnis danced in. She stumbled to a halt a few feet away and eyed them speculatively for a couple of heartbeats. Her gaze dropped to their joined hands.
Zach fought a guilty urge to pull his free. Dammit, he was allowed a lov—that is, a sex life without accounting to his sister. He gave her a level look, quirking his eyebrows questioningly.
Her curled lips reminded him of a cat with a canary, but she didn't say a word about Lily's hand in his, nor did she ask any questions. Instead she met his gaze. "Coop and Ronnie and Rocket are getting ready to leave. You'd better come say good-bye."
He'd rather go upstairs with Lily, but all in all he felt too great to bitch about the interruption of something he should've known better than to start in the first place. Trying to sneak off in a house full of people—a good portion of whom were his friends—hadn't been his brightest move. Besides. He grinned down at Lily. It wasn't as if he were going to miss out altogether. He was simply putting off celebrating in his favorite manner until later.