Jack Beale 00 - Dangerous Shoals Read Online Free PDF

race, cargo shorts, and knee pads to ease the discomfort of working on hands and knees. It never took long for sweat to begin soaking through the t-shirt. First the back would soak through and then, if she sat up, the shirt would begin to cling to her breasts. Then it would slowly peel away as she returned to sanding. Often, she worked braless because of the heat, and the soft sway of the girls was poetry in motion as she caressed the teak rails with 220 grit sandpaper. By most standards, she looked a mess. But to Jack, watching, she was a masterpiece. She had a raw, elemental sensuality that drove him crazy. Most of the time he was content just to catch glimpses of her, but occasionally a glimpse was not enough, and on those occasions little work was accomplished.
    * * *
    Jack stood at the bottom of the ladder with his varnish brush in one hand and the varnish pot in the other. He put the pot on the ground with the brush balanced on its lip, stood, and stretched as he removed the respirator from his face. He inhaled deeply. After several hours of breathing stale, tasteless, filtered air, he found that the fresh air had a sweetness that was sublime. He flexed and relaxed his muscles in an attempt to regain circulation and movement. He had been on his hands and knees for over two hours, finishing the final coat of varnish on the bright work, and now he was done. He looked up at Irrepressible and mentally went over his checklist of things to do before launch day. He smiled, knowing that soon he would be sailing again.
    A celebratory beer was in order, but first he had to take care of the brush and varnish. He went into his shop and put the brush in a pot of boiled linseed oil. It was a trick that an old timer had taught him. This way he didn’t have to clean out his varnish brush each time he used it. He just put it in the oil and then before the next time he had to use it, he had only to strike it out and was good to go. The bristles stayed soft and it eliminated a lot of extra work and mess. The varnish was put back into a can and sealed.
    As he climbed the stairs to his apartment, he could hear the phone ringing. “It’s probably Max,” he thought to himself. It was the first time in weeks that they hadn’t slept together, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Last night she and Patti and some of the other girls from Ben’s had gone out, and she called him late to let him know that they were all staying at her place. From the laughter and noise in the background, he could tell that none of them should be driving, so he slept alone.
    By the time he picked up the phone, the ringing had stopped. He looked for the number on his caller ID. There wasn’t one; it merely said UNKNOWN CALLER. “Hunh. Probably a wrong number or a telemarketer,” he thought. Cat had followed him upstairs and was begging for some food. He went to the fridge, got a beer, and grabbed the partial can of cat food. Beer first. Cat was insistent and kept talking to him while walking in circles under his feet. In her mind she was far more important than any beer and was put out that he would serve her second.
    “All right, Cat. I got the message. You know, I worked hard for that beer. All you did was lie around all day doing nothing.” He put his beer on the counter and scraped the cat food into her dish. She raced to it, stuck her nose into it, stopped, looked up at him with complete disdain, and walked off. Jack watched her and muttered under his breath, “Bitch.” Cat stopped and looked back at him as if to say, “I heard that.” That’s when the phone rang again.
    He picked up the receiver. Before he even got the phone to his ear to say hello, he heard Max shouting. “Jack! I saw him!”

CHAPTER 8
    “WHO?” ASKED JACK in as calm a voice as possible. Famous people were always coming into the bar, and he expected that this was the case.
    “Daniel. I saw Daniel.”
    That was not what he expected. He stood there, silent, phone in