They maneuvered around the tiny galley, bumping into each other constantly. The good news was each time they did, Griffin paused to kiss her. He fed her bites of the cold shrimp salad he made while two spectacular T-bone steaks marinated.

Then he carried the steaks out to the aft deck, lit a hibachi grill, and laid the steaks on it when the coals were hot. The steaks sizzled merrily, giving off an aroma so fantastic that saliva puddled in Sherri’s mouth.

“Wine?” he asked her, holding up a bottle.

“Of course.” She took a sip of the rich, dark vintage and sighed in appreciation. She finished the first glass, and he refilled her goblet again. “Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Caldwell?”

“What if I am, Miss Tate?”

“I sincerely hope your dastardly plan includes taking advantage of me.”

A broad grin split his face, his teeth white against his dark tan. “I think that could be arranged. Food first, though. You’re going to need your strength.”

“Hah! We’ll see who needs their strength. I’ve been in hard-core training, in case you haven’t noticed.”

He flipped the steaks and sprawled on the chaise longue next to hers. “Oh, I’ve noticed. So have all the guys. They’re scared shitless at how well you’re doing.”

“Poor little boys, about to have a girl invade their sandbox.”

He took an appreciative sip of the wine. “I gotta say, I’m actually getting used to the idea.”

“You don’t have to sound so shocked,” she teased.

“I guess it boils down to whether or not you can pull your weight and do the job. If you can, why not let you play with the boys?”

“Well, praise be. The Neanderthal is reformed.”

“I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

She laughed at him. “You were a total jerk.”

“Sorry.”

Her smile widened. “I’ll allow you to make it up to me later.”

They spent the afternoon lounging on deck, enjoying the cool Pacific breezes and the warm California sun. Sherri dozed on and off, soaking up the quiet and relaxation. Sometimes her training had gotten so intense that she forgot anything else existed. Her whole world narrowed down to pain, exhaustion, and instructors in her face.

As sunset bled across the open water in shades of crimson, Griffin disappeared inside. He emerged with a giant bowl of chopped salad filled with all kinds of goodies—ham, carrot bits, hard-boiled egg, a couple kinds of cheese, spinach, and even kale.

“I had no idea you were such a health nut,” she commented, digging into the salad enthusiastically.

“A finely honed body requires excellent fuel.”

“You’re talking to a pageant girl. I know full well how important it is to eat properly.”

“Did you like doing beauty pageants?” Griffin asked curiously.