Two Captains, One Chair: An Alaskan Romantic Comedy Read Online Free PDF Page B

plywood, hefting them against one shoulder, and gracefully made his way to shore without thwacking anyone—which was the hard part.
    Shelly and Wayne were new to the area, and I took the opportunity, after we had the cabin kit unloaded, to chat them up.  They were a trucker and a hairdresser, and had saved up enough money to move to Alaska and change their way of life.
    “What’s the deal with the boat motor?” Ed asked, nodding toward one mounted on a sawhorse, its plastic casing removed.
    Wayne made a sound of frustration.  “We bought it used, and it barely worked for a day.  I’ve been trying to figure out what’s wrong with it.”
    “Mind if I take a look?”  Ed was already walking that way.
    “Please do.”
    “Is that your only boat motor?” I asked.
    Wayne nodded, his eyes on Ed.
    “And how long’s it been broken?”
    “Almost a week.”
    I made sympathetic noises while I noted that they couldn’t be my gold nugget thieves if they hadn’t had transportation.
    While the men bent over the engine, Shelly told me about their adventures thus far living in a tent.  The conversation wandered to work, and hair.
    “I love the color of yours,” she said. “It’s such a beautiful golden brown.  And that natural curl…”  I saw in her eyes she was thinking of sproinging one of my curls, but she managed to resist.
    As she explained how layering and thinning shears would work wonders for me, my eyes kept getting drawn back over to Ed.  He was standing in a sunbeam.
    “Ed’s the one that really needs a cut,” I said.
    Shelly nodded.  “He has a great beard.  It just needs a trim.”
    I snorted, thinking maybe if that ‘trim’ were delivered with a weed whacker…
    We moved on to the weather—the forecast called for rain tonight.  And then I remembered I was having a Passion Party.
    “Any interest in coming to a ladies’ get-together?” I asked her.  “We’re having a Passion Party at my place on Sunday.”  From her expression I could tell that, yeah, she knew what that was.  “We’ll be having dinner and wine and conversation. It’s no pressure, you don’t have to buy anything.  Mostly I just hold these parties for the female company,” I added.
    “I’d love to,” she said, “if we can get that outboard running.  Would I need to bring anything?”
    “It’s a potluck, but again, no pressure.”
    Around the same time I decided that we needed to move on and get the rest of our load delivered, the boat motor roared to life.
    Wayne laughed and clapped Ed on the back.  “Thank you.”
    Ed smiled.  “Anytime.”
    The Fremonts, delighted with Ed’s work, were still gathered around the engine as we pulled away.  “Sunday at five p.m.!” I called to Shelly.  She waved, and we moved on upriver.
    Next stop:  The crates of alcoholic beverages.  They were going to a fishing lodge, of course.  The fishermen who came out to watch as we unloaded were characteristically jolly, their cheeks and noses pink.
    The owner, Avery, also appeared.  He was dark-skinned, with a close-shaved scalp, and piercing black eyes.  “Hey Ed, while you’re here,” said Avery, “could you take a peek at our freezer?  It’s been on the fritz for the last couple days.”
    “Sure,” said Ed.
    He wandered off across the lawn, and the jolly fishermen surrounded me.  I didn’t recognize them, which meant they were guests who had probably only been here a couple nights.
    “How did such a pretty little gal get to be driving such a big boat?” one of them asked.
    “My brother was the barger, originally,” I explained.  “He built it, welded all of the aluminum.  But he hurt his back a couple years ago, and that pretty much put him out of business.  He asked if anyone in the family wanted the boat, because if not, he was selling.”
    “He gave it to you?” asked another.
    “Well, no.  I’ve been making payments on it.”  Pretty damn big payments, but I almost had it paid off.
    “You