‘‘I’m sure we can arrange that.’’

He let Jonathan linger before nudging him gently along.

‘‘Now, you may recognize this one.’’ He indicated the drawing of a sleek racing skiff. ‘‘The Circe. My brother Cameron was involved with both her design and her construction.’’

‘‘And she beat my Lorilee to the finish line two years running.’’ Jonathan grimaced good-naturedly. ‘‘Of course, Cam was leading the team.’’

‘‘He knows his boats.’’ Phillip heard the buzz of a drill from where Cameron worked belowdecks. He intended to bring Cam into this shortly.

‘‘The sloop currently under construction is primarily Ethan’s design, though Cam added some points. We’re dedicated to serving the client’s needs and wishes.’’ He led Jonathan over to where Seth continued his hullsanding. Ethan stood on deck, attaching the rubrails. ‘‘He wanted speed, stability, and some luxuries.’’

Phillip knew the hull was a brilliant show of smooth lap construction—he’d put in plenty of sweaty hours on it himself. ‘‘She’s built for show as well as function. Teak from stem to stern, at the client’s direction,’’ he added, knocking his knuckles cheerfully against the hull.

Phillip wiggled his brows at Ethan. Recognizing the signal, Ethan bit back a sigh. He knew he was going to hate this part, but Phillip had pointed out that it was goodbusiness to bring the potential client into the fold.

‘‘The joints are wedged and married, without glue.’’ Ethan rolled his shoulders, feeling as though he weregiving an oral school report. He’d always hated them. ‘‘We figured if the old-time boat builders could make a joint last a century or so without glue, so could we. And I’ve seen too many glued joints fail.’’

‘‘Hmmm,’’ Jonathan said again, and Ethan took a breath.

‘‘The hull’s caulked in the traditional way—stranded cotton. Planking’s tight, wood to wood on the inside. We rolled two strands of cotton in most of the seams. Hardly needed the mallet. Then we payed them with standard seam components.’’

Jonathan hummed again. He had only a vague idea what Ethan was talking about. He sailed boats—boats that he’d bought fresh and clean and finished. But he liked the sound of it.

‘‘She appears to be a fine, tight boat. A pretty pleasure craft. I’ll be looking for speed and efficiency as well as aesthetics.’’

‘‘We’ll see that you get it.’’ Phillip smiled broadly, waving a finger at Ethan behind Jonathan’s head. It was time to pull out the next round.

Ethan headed belowdecks, where Cam was fitting out the framing for an under-the-bunk cabinet. ‘‘Your turn up there,’’ he muttered.

‘‘Phil got him on the string?’’

‘‘Couldn’t tell by me. I gave my little speech, and the guy just nodded and made noises. You ask me, he didn’t know what the hell I was talking about.’’