Sweet Seas
Page 2
If that was a threat, she’d take it. As long as he was talking, he wasn’t acting. Her finger moved over the trigger on the can of pepper spray. If this guy even thought about touching her with so much as a fingertip, she’d unload the whole damn can in his face.
The smell of the sea didn’t completely overtake the scent of musky man and musty rope, but that rope was the only thing preventing her from pulling the can out. It looked heavy, really heavy. It was looped round and round, each length had to be four inches in diameter, but he was holding it there on his shoulder like it weighed no more than her purse. Still, while the coiled rope was there, he would be at a disadvantage if he tried to take her down.
“You’d be surprised how far my comfort zone stretches,” she said, holding her ground. “Tell me where to find Captain Swain or move the hell out of my way.”
The flare of surprise on his face told her that he wasn’t used to people speaking back to him. But, Sassi wasn’t going to be intimidated just because he was built of solid muscle, a foot taller than her, and probably twice as wide.
As fast as the surprise had appeared, it vanished. He narrowed his eyes to a grumpy growl again, blazing more disgust before he spoke. “What do you want with Swain?”
“He’s my boss, and I don’t think he’d like you loitering out here trying so hard to intimidate his new cook.”
Sassi didn’t know a thing about the man she was going to be working under, but she hoped there was at least some chance that he was a decent guy given that she’d be stuck on a boat with him and his people for the next month.
“Aw, shit,” he exhaled and bent his knees to toss the rope off his shoulder, letting it drop to the ground. Planting one foot, she slid the other back, setting her stance wide while pulling her pepper spray closer to the top of her purse. If this was when he was going to make his move to attack, she’d be ready. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with a twig like you? You’re a fucking waif.”
His tone was offensive enough, his words were a smack in the face. “You don’t do a damn thing,” she said, forcing herself not to call him an asshole. Then, she started to put pieces together… and… oh… uh oh… he meant… “Oh no.”
“Yeah, sweetheart. Captain Carson Swain, at your service,” he said, though she didn’t believe he’d do a thing for her even with a gun to his head. There was nothing warm or happy about his introduction.
“You’re the captain?” she asked.
Swallowing hard, Sassi realized this was grimmer than she could ever have thought. This guy wasn’t as bad as the Neanderthals she’d seen on her way here, he was worse.
His physical size pretty much guaranteed there wasn’t a thing on this earth he couldn’t take by force if the notion took him. Who would stand up to a guy as mean and rough looking as him? There would be zero chance of anyone else ever triumphing in a fight against him.
His black gaze trailed down to her feet. “I’m the cap’n, and you ain’t no cook.”
She had no idea how he could tell that from looking at her, especially since most of her was covered up, still laden with luggage. Proving her skills was not going to be hard; it would actually be fun. Taking him down a peg would be her pleasure.
Smiling, she unzipped the bag on her chest, so she could get to the plastic tub of cookies she’d put on top. “I bet you’re a cookie man,” she said, switching off the sass in favor of her best attempt at charm.
Sassi did have a tub of muffins too, but he didn’t seem the soft and sweet type. He was tougher and chewier. His head tilted forward; she’d surprised him. Good. Sassi had never been accused of being predictable.
“What the fuck?”
Opening the tub, she reached inside to break off a piece of cookie. “Open your mouth, Captain.”
She could do seductive if she had to, but Sassi tried to be selective about who she turned it on for and she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. “Not a chance, sweetheart.”
Pushing out her lower lip, she wished she had the advantage of her cleavage, but it was covered up.
Dumping the cookie back in the tub, she licked her fingertips and re-zipped the bag. “Okay, then turn me away,” she said. “You and your crew can do with cold cereal instead of bacon and pancakes every morning.” Sassi made a show of looking left then right. “ ‘Cause I don’t see any one else asking permission to come aboard your dingy.”
His jaw ticked before he clenched it tight. “It’s a ship, not a dingy, and insulting Eros guarantees you won’t set one fucking toe aboard.”
Damn, she’d insulted him. The only way to ingratiate herself now would be to appeal to his ego. She hated doing that, especially with a guy so clearly arrogant enough that he needed no encouragement to believe he was the best.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” she said, licking her lower lip to draw it in between her teeth. “I didn’t mean to insult your friend. Eros is beautiful; intimidating, so large and powerful.” Picking up the end of her hair, she coiled it around her index finger as she let a fingertip from her other hand touch a snap on the front of his coveralls. “A silly little girl like me would never—”
“You a lush?” he asked, pushing her finger away from his sternum with the back of his rough hand.
“A lush?” she asked, unable to hide her offence. “You think I’m a drunk? Screw you, asshole! I flirt with you, you’re rude. I accidently say something that hurts your precious feelings and you sulk. Then, I try to make you feel better by praising the hunk of junk you worship and you insult me. You know what, asshole, shove your fucking job up your ass! I don’t need you any more than I need the other shit I’ve got going on in my life. I’ve had about as much of fucking men as I can take! Fuck you.”
Spinning around, she was ready to march away, but his arm came under hers and he grabbed her wrist to whirl her around to face him again. “That’s the attitude you bring on my ship, Waif. You say you can cook? It’s not like I’ve got a lot of options. So, if you work hard, don’t complain, and quit the innocent babygirl thing, we won’t have a problem.”
Was he trying to provoke her into showing her spunk or was he just an asshole who’d accidently stumbled on it?
Snatching her wrist back, Sassi withdrew a step. “What makes you think I want your stupid job now?”
“ ‘Cause what kind of fucking woman comes down the docks at five AM unless she needs it? My crew members need to have backbone, you’ve proved you’ve got that, now get your fucking ass on board, Waif.”
Tipping up her chin, she opened her arms to grab the handle of each of her suitcases at her flanks. “Stop calling me waif.”
“I’ll call you whatever I want; everyone’s got a nickname on the sea,” he said and nodded sideways. “Leave the dunnage.” He must have read her blank expression. “Your baggage. Shake a leg. Flank speed… When the captain says move, you move. Can you follow orders, Waif?”
Something about the question, abrupt and gruff though it was, made her want to flirt again. Wait. What was that buzz in her belly? He took half a step toward her and she inhaled. The nearer he got, the more intense that vibration in her skin grew.
But he was a dirty, smelly oaf. A lunkhead. A brute.
Hmm, why did her belly feel so light?
Twisting away, she chose to ignore her mutinous body, and spoke to him over her shoulder. “Maybe if you can ask nicely,” she said and flounced toward the gangplank.
She heard her cases move and the captain cursed under his breath. “You trying to sink us before we cast off?” he asked. “What the fuck you got in here?”
Everything she valued in life, but she didn’t say that. Steadying herself with a hand on each side of the gangplank, Sassi took one careful step and then another. The captain crowded up behind her, trying to move her forward faster, using his bulk against her.
He was so solid and strong that she had to hurry to try to put space between them, except his long legs ate up the gangplank and she couldn’t go fast enough to maintain any
distance. Sassi felt flustered and didn’t like to be harassed.
In an attempt to turn the tables, when she got to the top of the gangplank, she stopped dead, right before stepping onto the deck.
“What’s the problem?” he griped.
Turning her chin to her shoulder, she steeled herself. “Are you always in such a hurry, Captain Swain?”
“You want your stipend? Get your tush on board, Waif, and I told you to cut out the flirting.”
Without hiding her smile from herself, she moved forward. The boat rose on the swell of the water to meet her and she stumbled, catching herself on the cold painted wall opposite the end of the gangplank.
Sassi didn’t appreciate the snicker she heard behind her. But, when he grabbed her elbow and pulled her down the deck, she re-thought how she’d goaded him and remembered what she’d thought about how he could take what he wanted from anyone by force.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“Your luxury cabin. Buckle up, sweetheart, Eros is gonna take you for a ride.”
A ride. An adventure. Maybe this was the Voyage of the Damned. But, if she stayed ashore she’d be damned for sure; there was no way to make the money for Correa without this job. The captain was a brute, but she could deal with whatever he threw at her providing he paid her.
The money, that’s what this was about. As long as she kept that in sight, Sassi could handle anything.
TWO
The sweet-smelling, petite wench hadn’t been happy when he’d shown her to her single berth cabin, which was on the same deck as the mess. She should be fucking glad the cook got a private cabin. Sure, it was fucking small, but this wasn’t the Hilton.
Eros was a working ship, everyone had a role, and she was here to do a job. Swain might have neglected to tell her that she’d be the only female on board, thinking that if she knew, she might have second thoughts about joining the crew.
To his chagrin, she’d been right when she pointed out that he didn’t have a lot of options. They had to get underway, he couldn’t waste time at port looking for another cook. But, he wasn’t a complete jerk, he planned to talk to Jockey, his first-mate, to make sure all the boys kept their hands to themselves.
Sassi Robins.
On the phone, the temp agency chick had told him the name of his new cook. It hadn’t occurred to him to ask for her measurements because he hadn’t cared about who she was as long as she could cook.
Except, after seeing the slightness of her delicate facial features, he was thinking it might have been smart to be explicit about needing someone hardy. This lass seemed too dainty. He didn’t have time to pander to someone who might expect special treatment.
It was his own fault that he hadn’t probed further. After being assured by the temp agency woman that this Sassi could cook and she’d have no problems following orders, Swain had accepted her as a done deal. His to-do list was long and he hadn’t had the time to think twice. There were too many other things to arrange before they shoved off; he hadn’t cared much about who cooked his bacon in the mornings.
For him and his crew, this job was a real coup. He’d made a bid for it and missed out to the Swag Wagon. But, they’d pulled out at the last minute. Swain was happy to step in and save the day, even if it meant scrambling to get everything organized.
His cause hadn’t been helped when he learned that Eros’ usual cook, Raise, had been arrested for drunk and disorderly just as Swain was signing on the dotted line to accept the job. There was an outstanding warrant meaning that Raise wouldn’t be joining them on this trip and possibly the next one.
The rest of the crew was easier to corral. Swain and his first-mate, Jockey, lived on Eros full-time, so they were always around. Foist, his engineer, had no wife or commitments to keep him in one place. He’d been happy to sign on last minute, just like Swain’s deckhand, Swing, and their apprentice Fidget.
Pulling together a couple of divers wasn’t too hard, Swain had enough ships in his fleet and contacts in the industry that he could do what needed to be done. The two divers would double as night-watch relief after Eros picked them up in Miami.
A cook was always more difficult to come by. Anyone could throw eggs in a pan, but decent cooks were like gold dust, so they were snapped up quickly and often signed their articles far ahead of time.
Raise had really dropped him in it this time. The bastard.
Being out on the water for weeks at a time, working hard and long, the only thing his crew had to look forward to on a daily basis was chow. If he didn’t secure someone with skills enough to satisfy his crew’s appetite, he could face a mutiny.
But now they had a woman aboard.
And not just any woman; a woman who smelled like candy and smiled like she was thinking of tempting men to sin. Swain was glad she’d been trussed up like a cart horse when they met. If he’d been able to look too close at her figure, he might have refused to take her on board. As it was, he could imagine her as a school matron and forget that he’d noticed her slender arms and delicate wrist.
Good thing he had no time for women like her.
Swain liked his women willing and his affairs simple. But, if the new cook tried any of that flirtatious crap with his crew, God help her. A man could only be pushed so far before he’d lose his patience.
There had been no alternative, he’d had no choice except to accept the woman. In addition to asking Jockey to keep the men in line, Swain would have to watch her to ensure she didn’t cause trouble. If he caught her playing with his men, he’d put her in her place.
But, she was onboard now. An official member of his crew.
Her cabin was in the same passageway as the mess. He’d pointed it out up ahead on the other side of the deck, so she could make her way there after she was settled in. The last thing he wanted to do was waste time with handholding. He had preparations to make; there was no time to give her a guided fucking tour. His crew was on their way, and he wanted to get underway as soon as possible.
Swain had dumped her cases in her room and then decided to forget about her.
Though he was still a little distracted. He’d never known anyone to come onboard with so much luggage. But, as long as she kept it in her room and passed inspection later, he’d let her keep it.
If things went their way on this job, Eros would have to get used to being laden with plenty of cargo. She could hold up to the extra weight.
Sassi had still been scanning the small bedroom the captain had led her to when he came back and dropped her cases behind her without saying a word.
The narrow space was depressing. The metal walls were painted grey; the floor and ceiling were a darker shade of the same dull color. Her basic shower room was just big enough to stand up in. It didn’t even have a window.
There was a window in the bedroom, but it was tiny. A little glazed circle on the far wall, just above the skinny metal bunk with its thin mattress and woolly blanket. But, the bleak décor and the limp pillow weren’t enough to discourage her. She had everything she needed, a roof, a bed, and two spaces to stow her things: a dresser that was bolted to the wall and a box beneath the bed.
For now, at least, she was safe.
Karen had said that Sassi would have uniforms provided. So, she guessed that’s what the black polo-shirts in the bottom drawer were meant to be. They were way too big and cut for a male stature, but they were embroidered with the words “Swain Salvage” in small letters on the breast.
Fine by her.
Sassi worked fast to unpack her things because she wanted to get to the kitchen. Most of what she’d brought were supplies for the kitchen. Until she knew what they had in storage and what equipment she had to work with, she couldn’t begin to build a menu.
She had no idea how to begin planning for entrees; Sassi was used to working up dessert menus. But, she had a feeling that her specialty, comfort food, was going to be well-received around here.
Thank goodness for that.
> Sassi had made a good dent in getting the kitchen cleaned up. A sudden grumbling roar almost knocked her off her feet. For a good minute, she stood there braced with a hand on the counters wondering if the ground was about to give-way beneath her feet.
“We got a stowaway?”
Spinning around, her wide eyes landed on the scruffy older man just inside the doorway. “I, uh… I’m the new cook,” she said, and the rumble increased. “What is that noise? Why is the whole kitchen vibrating?”
“Galley,” he said, tossing a pile of newspapers onto the table that was just to the left of the door.
It was a long skinny table with seating around three sides, shoulder-high backrests along the wall and at the head of the table, with an open back bench on the other long side.
Beyond the top of the table were three metal stairs that descended to a large open space. It seemed to be some kind of recreation room. Fixed couches lined the back wall and there were bolted-down tables in each corner. All the furniture she’d come across so far was bolted down. A wall separated the kitchen from the rec room. On the recreation side of it was a TV cabinet, and even the TV was screwed down.
Sassi hadn’t had a lot of time to explore, but she was impressed that there was a TV at all, though she doubted it would work when they got out to sea.
“Ga… galley?” she asked when he started toward her.
The corner of his wry mouth twitched and the wrinkles around his eyes deepened like he was amused. “It’s not a kitchen, it’s a galley. You’ve gotta learn a whole new language out here. I’m guessing you ain’t spent a lot of time at sea?” She shook her head as he offered his hand. “Jockey, I’m the first-mate.”
At least he was polite enough to be introducing himself up front. “Sassi,” she said, shaking his spindly fingers that were stronger than they looked. Jockey had bulk about him too, not like the captain did, but she wouldn’t bet against this guy either. “Sassi Robins… Are all of the crew so… raw?”