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“You’ve got a reputation and I’m uptight. We’ve all got our quirks,” she said. Perfect. Verbal diarrhea. Someone gag me. “I’m Sterling Andrews.”
“Sterling.” Her name came out in a whisper, and for the first time she noticed the silver ball piercing in his tongue. Her stomach clenched at the thought of that hard ball against her—
“I’m going to check on things in the kitchen. If you need anything, Sterling, my brother would be more than happy to help.” Neil patted Jack on the shoulder, and they exchanged a curious look as he walked away.
“Really, I should be the one cleaning up,” she said.
He ignored her offer to pitch in. “What are you doing down here, anyway? The party’s upstairs.”
Because she was a queasy mess. “I was just looking for the bathroom.”
“There’s a bathroom upstairs.” He pointed toward the ceiling, his eyes gliding over her body, from eyes to toes and back again. She smoothed her hands down the front of her skirt, the coarse crinoline rough against her sweaty palms, her heart beating faster as he stepped closer, the glass crunch-crunch-crunching under his feet with every step.
He stopped in front of her—too close—and cocked his head to the side. “Not your scene?”
Could he read her mind? She let out a breath of relief. “So not my scene.”
He grinned. “I know exactly how you feel. I was hiding out down here myself.” He crouched and balanced on the balls of his feet, rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt. His left forearm was inked, and thick black designs crawled up his skin. She wondered just how far up they went. On his right forearm, what looked like two paws peeked out from under the fabric.
He reached for the glass and she dropped beside him, grabbing his hands. “You don’t have to—”
“Shit!” He dropped the piece of glass. A thick, red stain slashed brightly across the surface.
“Oh, God. You’re cut. I’m such a klutz tonight. Let me…” She reached into her purse, thankful she had decided to go against Penn’s advice and brought her oversized bag. He sucked on his palm as she withdrew a purple makeup case. She rummaged inside, finding a Band-Aid and an antiseptic wipe. She went above and beyond the motto of always being prepared. Sterling Andrews: perpetual Girl Guide. More like wannabe Girl Guide. She’d never had the opportunity to be a real one but if she had, she’d be the one with the most badges.
He chuckled. “You’re either a mom or a nurse.”
“Neither. I’m a professional organizer.” Sterling grabbed his hand, calloused and coarse. A man’s hand. She held the wipe between her teeth, ripped open the wrapper, and cleaned his cut. “It’s not too deep.”
She rearranged her balance, making sure her legs remained tightly together. She may be on the hunt, but she wasn’t tacky. In this position, her stomach had settled some.
When she was done, she glanced up. Her eyes caught in deep pools of chocolate brown sparkling back at her.
George returned and quickly got to work, sweeping around them. “Chef, I’ll take care of this now.”
Jack smiled and gestured with his chin to the kid. “George is a master baker.”
“A master baker?” She looked up at the young boy and he smiled, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen. “At such a young age?”
“He has a future in pastry arts,” Jack said. “A very bright future.”
Jack stood and offered his uninjured hand. Impressed by the gentlemanly gesture, she slid her hand in his and let him draw her up.
“Thank you, George.” Jack nodded before leading her toward the railing, so they could look out into the night. The moon glistened, reflecting off the walls of the boat around them with every ripple of water.
A shiver zinged through her when he slid his hand down her spine, letting it settle at the small of her back. “Do you always carry a first aid kit in your purse, Sterling?”
God, the way he said her name. It was like he was pouring warm honey across her belly…which she sincerely hoped he’d be licking up later.
“Actually, yes.” She laughed. “You never know when you’re going to need antiseptic wipes or a Band-Aid or—” she fiddled inside the makeup case “—a sewing kit.”
“Well, next time I bust a button on my shirt while simultaneously cutting my finger on a dirty knife, I know who to call.”
His sexy smile set the butterflies in her stomach aflutter. Exactly the reaction she was looking for. It was time to put a little fun in her life. Experience things she’d never had the chance to because she was too busy taking care of everyone else, including a two-timing fiancé.
The boat dipped. At least it felt like it dipped. The nausea she had forgotten came back with a vengeance.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “You just turned green.”
