Free Bad Boys of Red Hook [2] You're the One by Robin Kaye Page A

you make that?”
    “Last night. I couldn’t sleep—jet lag.”
    “Lucky me.” He leaned back against the worktable. “I just happen to have an incredible port I’ve been saving. It goes great with chocolate.”
    “Okay, since you have the port, and I was thinking of using it for a dessert special, I guess you can have a taste. I’ll start cooking. Send Harrison in to help rearrange the shelves and then if you wouldn’t mind, run over to myplace and bring back the tiramisu.” She tossed him her key ring.
    “Deal.” He turned and made his way to the doors. “I’ll be back in a flash. And Skye, no more climbing on stools.”
    “Right.” She looked at the pot rack above her head. “But if you expect that to happen, you’d better put a step stool or a ladder on your list of things to buy. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to get any taller.”
    He shot her another killer smile and slipped through the doors.
    “Damn, the man is lethal.” She took a deep breath. “In through the nose, out through the mouth.” She gave it a few tries, each time hearing her mother’s high-pitched voice. Amazingly enough, after about five deep breaths, it started working. She wondered if it would have worked as well while dealing with her brothers. She shook her head and put some water on to boil. No, probably not. After all, her brothers seemed to enjoy tormenting her.
    *   *   *
    Logan stepped up to the bar where Harrison, a blond guy with a goatee and gauges in his ears, was gesturing wildly, ending with what looked like a description of a woman’s breasts.
    He had obviously interrupted one of the sous chef’s comedy routines—a crude one from the looks of it. “Harrison, could you spend some time with Skye rearranging the storeroom? She’s having a hard time reaching things.”
    “Sure.” He shot a cocky grin at the rest of the kitchen staff.
    Logan realized what he’d interrupted. It wasn’t Harrison’s skit; it was Harrison talking about Skye. Shit. Hetamped down the urge to pick him up by his collar and bang him into the wall a few times. “Wipe that smile off your face, Bubba—I’m not sending you in there to play spin the bottle. Skye’s your boss, and although she might not look it, she’s tough as nails.”
    Harrison’s smile vanished. “I wasn’t—”
    Logan’s eyes locked on his.
    The man took a giant step back and nodded.
    “Good. See that you don’t.” He pulled out his wallet and withdrew a hundred-dollar bill. “And on your way home, pick up a sturdy step stool so she doesn’t kill herself climbing around back there. Make sure you bring me the receipt and change.”
    “Will do.” Harrison took the cash, shoved it in his pocket, and stepped out of Logan’s reach, double-timing it to the kitchen.
    Logan stared at each one of the crew in turn. “That goes for all of you.”
    Every one of them nodded and slid off his stool, heading for the door as if someone just lit a fire under his ass. Okay, maybe he was being a little heavy-handed when it came to Skye and the opposite sex. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t take care of herself. She’d had no problem giving him the brush-off. Still, he felt territorial when it came to Skye. If he were a cat, Pop would have him neutered. No, she wasn’t his and he wasn’t even available. He was just being a good manager; there’d be no sexual harassment under his watch—and he’d be watching.
    He was tempted to follow Harrison into the kitchen to make sure he behaved. Yet he knew he should give her some room and let her handle Harrison. After what he’d seen of her, Harrison was nothing Skye couldn’t manage.
    He followed the crew out, shaking his head. Was it Skye he didn’t understand or women in general? He was almost glad Payton was a low-maintenance kind of woman. She didn’t expect much from him, he didn’t expect much from her, and neither of them seemed to mind. He’d bet his left nut Skye would be just the opposite.
    Skye