I only have to pick up the phone to do for Seth what I failed to do years ago. I can give him a home, a family, and the knowledge that he has nothing to fear.

“SON OF A bitch.” Phillip wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Blood from a nasty but shallow scrape smeared over his skin. He grinned like an idiot at the hull he and his brothers had just turned. “That’s a big bastard.”

“It’s a beautiful bastard.” Cam rolled his aching shoulders. The turning of the hull meant more than progress. It meant success. Boats by Quinn was doing it again, and they were doing it right.

“She’s got a fine line.” Ethan ran a calloused hand over the planking. “A pretty shape to her.”

“When I start thinking a hull looks sexy,” Cam decided. “I’m going home to my wife. Well, we can score her waterline and get back to work, or we can just admire her for a while.”

“You score her waterline,” Phillip suggested. “I’m going up and running the paperwork for the draw. It’s time to hit your old racing pal up for some cash. We can use it.”

“You cut the paychecks?” Ethan asked him.

“Yeah.”

“Yours?”

“I don’t—”

“Need it,” Cam finished. “Cut one anyway, goddamn it. Buy your sexy lady some bauble with it. Blow it on some overpriced wine or lay it on the throw of the dice. But cut your check this week.” He studied the hull again. “It means something this week.”

“Maybe it does,” Phillip agreed.

“The insurance company’s going to fold their hand,” Cam added. “We’re going to win there.”

“People are already changing their tune.” Ethan rubbed a layer of sawdust off the planking. “The ones who wanted to whistle lies under their breath. We’ve already won there. You worked the hardest to make sure we did,” he said to Phillip.

“I’m just the detail man. Either one of you tried to have more than a five-minute conversation with a lawyer . . . well, you’d nod off from boredom, Ethan, and Cam would end up punching him. I won by default.”

“Maybe.” Cam grinned at him. “But you skated out of a lot of the real work by talking on the phone, writing letters, zinging off faxes. It just comes down to you being secretary. Without the great legs and ass.”

“Not only is that sexist, but I do have great legs and a terrific ass.”

“Oh, yeah? Let’s see ’em.” He moved fast, diving and taking Phillip down onto that reputedly terrific ass.

Foolish scrambled up from his nap by the lumber and raced over to join in.

“Christ! Are you crazy!” Laughter prevented Phillip from rolling free. “Get off me, you moron.”

“Give me a hand here, Ethan.” Cam grinned, swearing as Foolish lapped eagerly at his face. Phillip struggled half-heartedly when Cam sat on him. “Come on,” he urged when Ethan merely shook his head. “When’s the last time you pantsed somebody?”