Baby on Board Read Online Free PDF Page A

shallow. Beyond those were larger, more elaborate yachts, all gleaming fiberglass and bright chrome. Last, in the deepest water, were sailboats.
    Patrick turned left onto a narrower dock perpendicular to the main pier. A couple of men, fellow sailors who kept their boats at the marina, greeted him. Otherwise the dock was quiet, as it usually was during the weekdays. It would be busy later; tonight was race night. Patrick flexed his fingers, testing their strength. He winced when two gave him a stab of pain. Maybe he would have to sit this race out.
    Ten slips down, Patrick arrived at his boat, Aphrodite, a sleek, white sailboat with green canvas over the boom and mainsail. He slung his bag onto the cabin top, then stepped up and over the lifelines onto the deck. The boat rocked gently as he boarded. Patrick adjusted his rhythm to that of the boat and nimbly hopped into the cockpit. There, he pushed open the companionway hatch and pulled out the drop boards to open the cabin.
    He went down the steps inside the boat, and threw his bag on the settee that ran along the right side of the boat. The icy, dripping towel went into the galley sink. Moving forward through the cabin, he opened hatches and ports, letting the late-afternoon breeze wash the heat and musty smell out of the boat.
    He pulled open the icebox. It held more beer than it had when he left three months ago. He took out one can and, just as he opened it, heard a knock on the hull.
    “Ahoy, there, Aphrodite! ”
    With a smile, he grabbed another beer. “Evan, come aboard!”
    Evan McKenzie climbed over the lifelines and sat on one of the cockpit seats as Patrick tossed him a can. He popped the tab and took a deep swallow. Patrick climbed out into the cockpit to join him.
    Tall, blond and lanky, he looked like Patrick’s fair-skinned twin. They had been best friends ever since age twelve when they had tried to beat each other to a pulp over a protest in a sailing dinghy race. After that start, they had gotten into more trouble than seemed possible to their long-suffering parents.
    “Welcome back.” Evan’s greeting was followed by a hearty belch.
    “Thanks.” Patrick clunked his can against Evan’s in a toast. “Thanks for restocking the icebox.”
    Evan grinned. “Only seemed fair, since I drank what you left in there.”
    Patrick often thought that his friend looked like a used-car salesman when he smiled like that, sunglasses hiding his green eyes. In fact, he was a car salesman, albeit new ones, and very successful at it. It had something to do with the charm that oozed out of Evan’s pores. He could sell a monster pickup to an eighty-year-old grandmother with cataracts or a minivan to a teenager looking for a chick magnet. Patrick didn’t understand it. If he didn’t know Evan well, he wouldn’t trust him on a bet.
    “How’d the big race go?” Evan asked.
    “You didn’t check the site?”
    Evan tipped his glasses down to eye Patrick, then pushed them back up. “Please. I’ve got better things to do with my time than track your wake.”
    Patrick snorted his disgust. “We took second.”
    “Against Voltaic? ” Evan whistled. “Not bad for a bunch of amateurs.”
    Patrick flipped him off good-naturedly and leaned back against the cockpit coaming.
    Evan eyed the swollen, bruised hand. “You get in a fight or something?”
    “Punched my truck.” Patrick flexed the fingers, again feeling a stab of pain. “Didn’t break anything. But I don’t think I’ll race tonight.”
    Evan shook his head and slid around to lean his back against the cabin, stretching his legs out along the seat. “Who pissed you off?”
    Patrick saw his brother coming down the dock and didn’t answer. Ian climbed on board.
    “Ian! You see your brother’s knuckles?”
    “Yep. That truck will never be the same.”
    “Any good reason?” Evan cocked his head. “Or just staying in practice?”
    Patrick ignored the joke and went below to get his brother a beer. He