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or parties to all hours of the morning. That’s right—not meant to be doing that stuff for six months anyway.
    “Well, I guess I
should get these things cleared up and then get ready for when my staff arrives.”
    Brock finished the
last of his coffee. “Here, let me help you get these dishes and flatware to the
sink. Then I’d better get back to the boat and check that leak.”
    They both walked over
to the other side of the kitchen and turned to look at one another. He wanted
to kiss her so badly but didn’t dare. Me , Mr. Just Go for It
is now suddenly Mr. Self-Control. However, they were neighbors, seemed to
get on really well, and he didn’t want to ruin things with the awkwardness of
an unwanted smooch. “Thanks again for the room and the meal,” he said. Shit, kissing her is getting more tempting
by the second.
    “Anytime. After all, that’s what neighbors are for.”
     
    ***
     
    Kate had plenty to do
but she couldn’t help spending some time at the window watching Brock walk back
to his boat. As she’d sat opposite him eating breakfast, she felt like she’d
died and gone to heaven. Shirtless, toned, and tanned, he had a tattoo on his
left bicep. She tried to see what exactly it was but didn’t want to get caught
staring.
    “Good Morning,
Katie.”
    Kate jumped when she
heard Henri, her chef, in the kitchen. He never called her Kate, but Katie with
a strong emphasis on the ie .
He was after all French and a kick-ass chef that she was very lucky to have in
her employ. Seventy-five percent of the reason why they were still open was due
to his skills and visionary culinary talents.
    “Morning, Henri. You
survive the storm okay?”
    “I’m getting used to
them. So have we decided what will be our specials of the day?” He reached for
his chef’s jacket and put it on.
    Kate smiled, remembering
the saying about never trusting a skinny chef. Judging by the robust belly on
Henri, and the fact the buttons on his chef’s uniform were about ready to pop,
you could put all your trust in this guy. “We have some fresh lobsters coming
in later this morning,” said Kate.
    “Then let us do
something with them, something that will set us apart from crowd.”
    “And I have to find a
new bakery supplier.”
    Henri shrugged his
shoulders. “A small price to pay for never having to see that
husband-stealer again.”
    Kate smiled. “Oh, and
I do need to hire another person to help with various things in the kitchen and
dining room now that David is….”
    “And yes, yet another
minute price to pay for never having to see that rat
of a husband at this establishment.”
    Henri and David had
never seen eye to eye. Most of the time David had tried to tell him his job and
Henri, as well he should have, always took offense.
    “I stayed here
because of you, Katie,” said Henri as if he were reading her mind.
    “Thank you. It’s much
appreciated. I think I’ll put a help wanted sign out front. Who knows, someone
might see it, and I won’t have to pay to place an ad in the paper.”
     
    ***
     
    Brock hadn’t been
able to fix the leak himself. Well, he could have but not well enough that it wouldn’t
have leaked immediately after he’d patched it. He reached into his pocket and
was about to pull out his cell phone when he remembered he no longer had one. After
leaving
Boston
,
he knew he couldn’t afford the monthly payments and had ditched it there. He’d
always wondered where he’d be without it, and right this very minute he was
finding out the hard way.
    He needed to phone a
boat repair shop and get an estimate. He guessed fixing the boat wasn’t going
to be cheap. Would the shop take a can of tuna and sweet corn in payment?
    Kate had told him if
he needed anything she was there to help. She had a phone. That was a start.
     
    ***
     
    Kate pinned the
schedule on the notice board by the window as she heard someone tapping on it.
She glanced outside to see Brock standing there pointing to help wanted