Jack’s grin went wide. He rubbed his hands together. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Harper sprawled out on the padded bench seat and leaned back as she opened her book. This was not the day she’d had planned. It was better.
Mitch had cut the engines, and they were drifting, the salty breeze providing some natural air-conditioning. Jack had cast a line off the back of the boat. The peaceful expression on his face was priceless. It seemed knitting wasn’t the only way he found his zen.
Mitch came up from the cabin with two bottles of water. He sat beside Harper. “Water?”
“Thanks.” She scooted upright a little more. “This was a fantastic idea. Well done.”
He set the bottles on the deck. “I do have them once in a while.”
She laid her book flat on her stomach and admired the man next to her. “What’s new with you?”
“Nothing much. I should be writing, but this seemed more important. For the record, I did ask Kyle if he wanted to come, but he’s in the thick of things and didn’t want to leave. He’s about ready to do some brainstorming with you, by the way. Provided Ruthie doesn’t intervene again.”
“Whenever he wants. Tonight?”
“Maybe.” Mitch looked at her. “You think you’ll still be up for it after this?”
She snorted and gave him a wry smile. “I’m basically laying down, reading a book. If that wears me out, I have bigger problems.”
Laughing, he leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “This is nice, isn’t it?”
“It is. Did you bring a book?”
“No, but I keep a supply of legal pads and gel pens in the cabin. I’ll do some longhand writing, then either tonight or tomorrow, I’ll type it all in.”
A gull swooped past, probably looking to see if they had any easily accessible food laying around.
“That’s interesting.” She hadn’t known him to do that before. “Do you write longhand often?”
“No, but it works pretty well. I used to do it a lot more.”
“When you and Jeanie came out on the boat?”
He nodded, his gaze aimed at the horizon. “Whatever I write out, I can generally double the word count when I type it in. That first draft is pretty spare, you know? As I type it, I end up layering in description and emotion, action sometimes, or some introspection. It’s a great technique. And not one I use often enough.”
“Have you taught it to Kyle?”
“No, but I will at some point.” Mitch glanced at his phone. The coast was still in sight, so they had signal.
“Waiting on a call?”
He nodded. He bent his arms back, resting them on the top edge of the bench cushion.
“Lucinda or Angelo?”
He gave her a quick look, his eyes unreadable behind his sunglasses. “Both. Either.”
“You think Angelo will be able to do what you want?” They’d only discussed it briefly, but she had an idea about what Mitch had sent Lucas’s brother to do. It had been her suggestion, after all.
“I can only hope.”
“And Lucinda?”
He picked up his water, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip. “Since I told her Kyle was sticking to his guns about not using my name, which I’m fine with, she promised she’d do her best. I have a feeling I know what she’s going to come back with.”
