“Okay, scram, or we’re never going to get out of here.”

HE ARRIVED AT the boatyard nearly forty-five minutes behind Cam and expected to get grief for it. Cam was already at the shaper, rabbeting the next run of planks. Bruce Springsteen shouted from the radio about his glory days. In defense, Phillip turned the volume down. Instantly Cam’s head came up.

“I can’t hear it over the tool unless it’s loud.”

“None of us will be able to hear if you keep blasting our ears for hours every day.”

“What? Did you say something?”

“Ha-ha.”

“Well, we’re cheerful, aren’t we?” Cam reached over and switched off the power. “So, how’s Sybill?”

“Don’t start on me.”

Cam angled his head while Seth shifted his gaze from man to man and anticipated the entertainment value of a Quinn battle. “I asked a simple question.”

“She’ll survive.” Phillip snatched up a tool belt. “I realize you’d prefer to see her run out of town on a rail, but you’ll have to make do with the fact that I gave her a verbal bashing this morning rather than a physical one.”

“Why the hell did you do that?”

“Because she pissed me off!” Phillip shouted. “Because it all pisses me off. Especially you.”

“Fine, you want to try for a physical bashing, I’m available. But I asked a goddamn simple question.” Cam pulled the board off the shaper and heaved it toward the stack, where it landed with a clatter. “She already took a punch in the gut yesterday. Why the hell would you add to it this morning?”

“You’re defending her?” Phillip stepped forward until they were nose to nose. “You’re defending her, after all the shit you’ve handed me over her?”

“I’ve got eyes, don’t I? I saw her face last night. What the hell do you take me for?” He jabbed a finger into Phillip’s chest. “Anybody who’d kick a woman when she’s that torn up ought to have his neck snapped.”

“You son of a—” Phillip’s fist was clenched and halfway through the swing before he stopped himself. He would have enjoyed a few bloody rounds, especially since Ethan wasn’t there to break it up. But not when he was the one who deserved to be bloodied.

He unclenched his fist, spreading his fingers as he turned away to try to find some control. He saw Seth watching him with dark, interested eyes and snarled. “Don’t you start.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Look, I took care of her, okay?” He dragged a hand through his hair and aimed his rationalization at both of them. “I let her cry it out, patted her hand. I dumped her into a hot tub, tucked her into bed. I stayed with her. Maybe I got an hour’s sleep out of the deal, so I’m feeling just a little testy right now.”

“Why’d you yell at her?” Seth wanted to know.

“Okay.” He took a steadying breath, pressed his fingers to his tired eyes. “This morning she told me that Gloria had called her. Yesterday. Maybe I overreacted, but damn it, she should have told us.”