Nobody had thrown a penny in the water on this jaunt. Kennet glanced overboard at the churning water and his eyes narrowed at Old Nick’s eternal greed.

You have enough, old man. Lagom. Count it and be happy for once.

When they docked at the marina, Minor needed a hand out of the boat. His cheeks were flushed red, while the rest of his face look pale and drawn. Astrid shook off her lethargy and became brisk. She pressed the inside of her wrist to Minor’s forehead and gave a knowing nod.

“You have one of your evening fevers going,” she said. Then to Kennet, “It happens. The proverbial tank is empty so his body has to fight harder. He needs to put his feet up and eat something.”

“Go ahead and take him home.”

“He’s standing right here,” Minor mumbled, leaning back against one of the posts.

“Come on, sailor,” Astrid said, hooking her arm through Minor’s. “See you at dinner, Boyd?”

O’Hara made a polite, but ambiguous noise, reaching in a pocket for his smokes.

Kennet went into the boathouse, more than certain he was about to be chewed out from hell to breakfast. He counted exactly five seconds before the door slammed closed.

“So what is this,” O’Hara said. “You invited me home for my company, or so you could play matchmaker?”

“Both,” Kennet said calmly. “And both—”

“I can take care of myself.”

“—because I give a damn.”

“I don’t need you for a pimp.”

Kennet winced. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I don’t need you giving a damn about my sex life. I can get laid on my own.”

“No shit you can. And wind up in jail for it.”

“Fuck you.”

“No thanks.”

“Goddamn smart mouth.” O’Hara threw aside his still-unlit cigarette and seized two handfuls of Kennet’s shirt. “If we weren’t buddies I’d knock your block off.”

“If we’re buddies, start acting like it.” Temper flaring behind his eyes, Kennet shoved him off. “Cripes, Boyd, are you the new guy here? Have we met? You were my goddamn eyes for two weeks, think I’m going to screw around with your heart? You’re one of the best guys I know. My brother means the fucking world to me and I want the best kind of life he can possibly have. So yeah, I thought you two would like to meet.”

“So you could watch the freak show?”

“Holy hell, no.”

“Get your jollies from the fags wooing each other?”

“Knock it off,” Kennet said in a sharp bark. “I didn’t want anything out of this. I don’t even figure into the equation. You want a fight, go box your shadow. You want a conversation, then participate nicely.”

“Fine.” Glowering, O’Hara turned a hand over in the air. “Go ahead.”