Except, it was a wonder she even saw Jockey. The sight of the clean-shaven captain took her breath away. Oh no. She’d known Swain was broad and attractive in a brute force kind of way. But when she saw the strength of his features, the squareness of his jaw and the intensity of his eyes that had somehow been dampened by the overwhelming facial hair, she was sure something smacked her in the chest. Her breath was sucked from her lungs so abruptly that she gasped.
The men stopped talking to look at her.
“What are you still doing here?” Swain asked.
Sassi heard his voice, its usual deep vibration wormed its way into her ears, making her heart pound in her chest. But, as she opened her mouth, little sound came out.
“You okay, lass?” Jockey asked.
Though it was nice of the first-mate to sound worried, she couldn’t acknowledge him. Her jaw was still moving like she wanted to talk, except her voice box had gone on strike.
“Waif, speak,” Swain demanded, and his single stride brought him near enough that she got claustrophobic. She stumbled back. “What did I tell you about orders? Speak.”
His brow was drawn down in a harsh frown, but there was even an edge of worry in his voice too. “Do you want pie?” she asked in a rush of breath then cringed at herself. What kind of stupid question was that?
“Pie?” Swain asked, looking at her like she’d just sprouted fins.
“No, lass, we’re going out to eat,” Jockey said, coming around Swain. The movement luckily broke her fixation on the captain. She hadn’t blinked for so long that her eyes had been starting to sting. “Come with us.”
“Oh no, I’ll stay here,” she said, grabbing for the galley like it was her anchor.
“Alone?” Swain said from behind Jockey. “No, you won’t. I’m locking up. Do you think I’d leave you here to defend Eros alone?”
“So, lock me in,” she said. “I’m not getting off the boat… What if you leave without me?”
That was a ridiculous suggestion and not one she thought was true, but it was better to sound stupid than confess the real reason for her hesitation.
“A lot of trouble to go to,” Swain said.
“We’re addicted to your cookies anyway,” Jockey said. “Not sure we’re ever gonna let you leave.”
Swain still hadn’t even tried her cookies as far as she knew; he wasn’t as kind as Jockey. “If I wanted to ditch you, Waif,” the captain said, “I’d have tossed you in the drink.”
“Miami and me don’t get along,” she said.
“You’ve been here before?” Jockey asked and she nodded.
There was a large Cuban community in Miami; a lot of people around here knew Dario Correa. It was unlikely that he’d have put word out to track her down yet. She’d only been gone a day. But, if she was spotted by one of his minions who knew the story and reported back, Dario might think she was trying to flee.
If her being this far from home caused enough alarm, Dario might start looking for Stuart. There was a good chance Dario was already attempting to track her brother, but she didn’t want to give the asshole more cause. Stuart was resourceful, but he could be sloppy if he got lazy… or high. With her out on the ocean, she’d be safe; her brother would be a prime target.
“Then come on,” Swain said, showing little patience.
“I… I don’t have any money,” she said. Another lame excuse, but a true one. She’d used her last cent for supplies for this trip.
“I’ll take your cut from your pay,” he said. “Move your ass, Waif.”
She couldn’t tell them the truth and though she tried to search for another excuse, she couldn’t find one. “Damn it,” she hissed, dropping her fist to the counter. “Okay, but you have to let me get changed…” She started toward them, but paused by Swain. “And if someone gets hit with a chair, don’t blame me.”
“Your brother lives down here?” Swain asked.
“Her brother?” Jockey asked.
The captain had remembered her story, she liked that he paid attention. “No. Not exactly.”
Though in truth, Sassi had no idea where her brother was. Miami would be one of the dumbest places for him to hide out. If he wanted to disappear and get off Correa’s radar, heading north would’ve been a better option… or west… or east over the ocean, anywhere except south.
“We can handle ourselves in a fight, Waif,” Swain said, giving her shoulder a shove. “Hurry up and change. We’re leaving in five minutes, and if I have to toss you over my shoulder to drag you out, I will.” Sassi wasn’t sure she was averse to that and was thinking about it as she sauntered toward the door. Swain clapped, startling her. “What’s your flank speed? Shake a leg, Waif.”
Wearing a smile, she turned to walk backward, but didn’t go any faster. “I don’t know what that means, Captain. But, some might say it’s rude to talk about a lady’s flanks.”
She’d never noticed his smile before, maybe because of the beard. Seeing it made her stop and match his amusement, he leaned toward her. “How many times I gotta tell you, Waif? You ain’t no lady.”
“No, I’m crew,” she said, holding one of her wrists at the small of her back. “Under you.”
“Under me,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.
Oh, boy, there was something mesmerizing about his gaze. She’d never seen it this close before; he’d never bent this low to get in her eye line. Though there was a foot of distance between them, she felt a lightness seep through her. Starting in her thighs, the sensation ascended until it warmed her intimate core. This was more intense than the flip she’d felt in her gut on the dock first thing, and far more intriguing.
The reminder of their meeting, early that morning, suddenly made her worry. Her touching his face made surprise flicker across his expression, but he didn’t move away.
“Will you be okay, Captain? You’ve been working hard all day and you were up most of last night. Maybe you should get some rest and—”
“This is our last shot at shore leave for a while,” he said, “don’t get much rope yarn time.”
She laughed. The captain was a lot different when they were docked, ahead of schedule, and when his crew wasn’t around. “I don’t know what that means either.”
“Come about, full steam ahead, and I’ll tell you when we disembark,” he said.
Sailor talk was part of his regular vocabulary, though she had a feeling he was playing with her, at least a little.
But, Sassi wasn’t averse to playing. “Aye, aye, Captain,” she said and saluted.
“Now you’re getting it.”
Sassi wouldn’t slow him down by taking an age to change her clothes. She’d had boyfriends tell her that other women took a long time getting ready or causing delays. But, Sassi had been taught by her grandmother how rude it was to be late or keep someone waiting.
So, she hurried to her room and pulled a dress from her drawer. Running a brush through her hair, she put on some lip-gloss, then slipped the tube into her cleavage before swiping on a little mascara. There wasn’t need for anything else. Any sleek style she tried to tease her hair into would only frizz with the humidity anyway, so she let it curl in its natural way and ran her fingers through it.
Sliding on a pair of sandals, Sassi figured the shoes would be a nightmare to walk down the dock in, but they’d be fine once they got onto the street.
Running out of her cabin, she found Swain and Jockey waiting out on deck. Swain took his weight from a post and Jockey drew a smoke away from his lips. “Well, lass, don’t you scrub up nice.”
“Do I?” she asked. Looking down, the first thing she saw was her tube of lip-gloss sticking out of her cleavage and she laughed. “Oops.”
“You don’t need that shit,” Swain said and reached over to pluck the tube from between her breasts.
With her hands outstretched, Sassi started forward to try to reclaim it, but it was too late, he’d already tossed it over his shoulder. The tube disappeared, either into the
water or onto the dock. Shit. Didn’t he know that stuff was expensive and she was broke?
Apparently not because his huge hands sank around her jaw and he used his thumbs to wipe the gloss away from her lips. They moved one after the other at least half a dozen times ensuring it was all gone.
“You put some crap on your eyelashes too,” Swain grumbled.
How did he know that? After knowing her a day, how did he know her face so well? The rough skin of his thumbs rasped her lips, softer this time, but they were already swollen and probably red, like they would be if he’d used his lips instead of his thumbs to make his point.
Internally gawping at her shocking thought, Sassi didn’t know why she’d made the leap from his hands to his mouth. But, there she was, drifting in his gaze again, struggling to make sense of the flurry impeding her heartbeat.
“Do you want me to wash my face, Captain?” she asked, her voice soft.
The question was an admission that she’d follow any of his orders, even those that went beyond her duties.
“No time for that. Come on, time to eat,” Jockey said, tossing his smoke away and nudging the captain. “Let’s get going.”
To her dismay, Jockey turned and leaped from the boat to the dock through the gap in the edge of the hull that had housed the gangplank earlier, except the boarding aid wasn’t there this time.
“I can’t do that,” she said, grabbing Swain’s corded forearm before he could jump too. “I’m wearing heels.”
“What’s the hold up?” Jockey called to them.
Swain looked down when she lifted her shoe to show him. “Take ‘em off.”
She squirmed. “I still can’t jump all that way, what if I fall in?”
“You think I’d let you?” he asked. “I’m the one who’d have to fish you out. I’ve only got one good shirt. I’m not getting it wet.”
He did look good in the button down. It was black, like the polo shirt he’d worn that day and the coveralls he’d worn that morning. Somehow though, it matched his eyes. “I like it.”
She liked the shirt and the face; both made him more real, though no less intimidating. “It’s not a jump, it’s a step,” he said, pointing ashore.
His frustration wasn’t going to hurry her up. It didn’t matter how exasperated the captain got, she was still hesitant. “A step for you with your long legs, I’ll have to lift my skirt and—”
“Holy hell, woman,” he said and bent over to push his shoulder into her stomach.
Screaming when he hoisted her off her feet, Sassi pounded at his back. But, just like he’d said, it only took him a single step to reach the dock. There, he bent over again and put her back on her feet. Sassi was caught off-guard, and didn’t have her balance, so she had to grab the arm of each of the men to steady herself.
“Can’t wait ‘til you have to do that drunk,” Jockey said.
Oh no, she’d have to get back on the boat! How would she do that if the men weren’t with her or if the men were drunk? Sassi didn’t know the protocol if the captain hooked up and she had to come back to the ship alone.
But, apparently, the boat was locked anyway. Jockey must have taken care of that because she hadn’t seen Swain do it and she’d been watching him closely, probably too closely. No boss had ever made her feel so feeble and so protected both at the same time.
Still not trusting her feet, she walked between the men and took each of their arms. If they were going to get lucky, she would be a hindrance and might cramp their style. But, down here on the dark dock, she didn’t think there were many women to hit on, least not the ones that came for free.
She didn’t say anything as they traversed the dock. Swain and Jockey mentioned a few of the boats, commented on their crews, and on the equipment they could see. All of it went over her head. They knew where they were going and when they stepped into the Dockside Bar and Grill, she guessed the duo had been here before.
It was a decent sized space, all wooden floors and walls with an open half-floor above held up by pillars that flanked the bar. It was dirty and loud, and the only women she saw were in uniforms, but it seemed like exactly the kind of place Eros’ crew would fit in.
The guys pointed out a booth on the other side of the room. They went over and Swain slid in at one side. Jockey directed her in opposite the captain and then sat beside her. They’d barely sat down when a plump waitress in a bright red shirt came over, her bosom threatening to pop every button on the garment.
But, the width of her smile made Sassi smile too. “Howdy, y’all, what can I get you?” the waitress asked.
“You eat steak, Sassi?” Jockey asked her.
“I sure do,” she said. “Medium for me, and beer is fine.”
When the waitress noticed her smiling, she widened her grin. “You’re a lucky gal out with a couple of catches like these two.”
Sassi laughed. “I sure am. But, I’m trying to offload them. Do you know any gal willing to take pity on a couple of lonely sailors for the night?”
The waitress eyed Jockey then Swain, really taking her time over the captain. “Both of ‘em? At once?”
That hadn’t been quite what she meant, but was happy to go with it. “Sure,” Sassi said. “They’re real respectful.”
The waitress tapped her pen on her pad for a moment, then her laugh blasted out of her. “Oh, honey, I like you, girl,” she said. “I’ll see what I can do for ya, bet you need a night off.”
“I’ve got four weeks ahead of me, alone with this pair, and a few of their friends.”
The waitress circled her lips in a wince. “Some might consider that heaven.”
“The nights I don’t mind,” Sassi said and side-nodded at her captain. “This one gets grumpy during the day.”
The waitress laughed again. “Then we should get him fed and in a better mood, huh? Steak and beer all round?”
“Make theirs bloody, you know, how blue their steak is links to their masculinity. You can just bring out the cow and they’ll tear it apart themselves.”
The waitress was laughing again as she retreated from the table. Both Jockey and Swain pinned glares on her.
Sassi did her best to shrug with innocence. “What? I didn’t get it wrong. Foist told me today steak on ship should always be blue. We talked for a while about dietary requirements… Foist’s a real open guy.”
Swain’s bad mood was definitely his default, but he did it so well that she couldn’t blame him for using the skill, kind of like her and her sass. “And the sex stuff?” the captain asked.
“Uh, I didn’t say that word at all. You heard that in your own head.” She angled her chin to examine him. “You seem to think about sex a lot, cap’n.”
“And, on that, I’m going to the head,” Jockey said and swung out the booth.
Music came on the jukebox in the corner. Sassi took the time to look around. They were slightly elevated because the booths were a step up from the lower part of the floor that was mostly filled with smaller circular tables. Beyond those was a small dancefloor, though there were only a few people on it. None of them were dancing, they were just drinking and gathering in small groups.
“You think you’ll meet your ex in here?” The waitress brought their beer before Sassi could answer the captain. Swain tipped the server twenty bucks, which was generous of him. Sassi figured maybe he was trying to buy her silence. “So, your ex…?”
“In here?” she said and glanced around again, taking the beer to her lips. “Which ex?”
Jockey appeared at the end of the booth, but instead of sitting down, he reached over to give her shoulder a squeeze. “Sorry to ditch you, but Locke’s heading up to the Ment, I gotta go.”
Backing off, Jockey shared a look with the glaring captain who was half out his seat. Then the first-mate melted away, leaving Sassi all alone with her captain.
SIX
Swain sank back down into his seat and curled his fist around the neck of his beer bottle, clenching so hard, it was
a wonder he didn’t break the glass. Sassi was sure he was cursing when he bowed his head to glare at the tabletop.
“If you want to go with him, I can head back to the boat alone,” she said.
“It’s a ship,” he hissed, his voice guttural, darker and more ominous than she’d heard it.
Seemed like a ridiculous distinction, but what he valued wasn’t her call. “Okay, then I can go back to the ship,” she said and started to shimmy along the bench. “I’ll cancel our food order and—”
Lunging over the table, he caught her wrist. “You can’t get off the ship by yourself, how you gonna get back on it? And, I told you, you’re not staying there alone.”
“Okay,” she said, yanking her arm away to tuck it beneath the table. “Then I’ll find somewhere else to sleep.”
His chin stayed close to his chest as he pinned her with a vicious sneer. “Seen someone you like?”
Offense just made her angry. “Yeah, that’s what I meant, I’ll whore myself for a pillow to sleep on,” she snapped. “Give me a break. I don’t need you, your pity, or your boat. If you want to go get drunk with your buddies in the Ment, whatever the hell that is, you go, Captain. Do you think I can’t take care of myself? You have no idea.”
Again, when she tried to leave the booth, he grabbed her. This time he pulled her hard, dragging her to the center of the bench again.
“Tell me,” he said, taking her aback. “I want to know. Give me an idea.”
No chance. She shook her head. “I don’t know anything about you.”
“Anything about me?” he asked. “You know everything about me. The sea is my life; Eros my mistress. That’s it, my whole life.”
His life was the sea, she could buy that, but while she had him alone, Sassi took the opportunity to ask. “Is it true you’re a pirate?”
Rolling his eyes up, he slumped into his seat. “Fucking Foist… no I’m not a fucking pirate.”
“It wasn’t Foist, Jockey told me.”
Sweet Seas Page 6
