![]() ![]() Cole was the captain, chief navigator, mechanic, and-lucky him-the face of Lucky Harbor Charters, mostly because neither Sam nor Tanner was exactly a service-oriented person. Tanner was their scuba diving instructor and communications expert. Sam was their financial guy and boatbuilder. That’s what Cole and his two partners and best friends did-they hired out themselves and their fifty-foot Wright Sport boat, chartering deep-sea fishing, whale watching, scuba diving… if it could be done, they did it. He only had a couple hours before a group of eight was coming through for a tour of the area. Cole worked with a flashlight between his teeth, his fingers threading new electrical wire through the running lights on the stern. Not quite dawn, and the sky was a brilliant kaleidoscope of purples and blues and reds. It was way too early for those kinds of thoughts. So concentrating would’ve been the smart move.īut he had no smarts left, which was what happened when you hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in far too long-your brain wandered into areas it shouldn’t. Cole Donovan was precariously perched on the balls of his feet above some seriously choppy, icy water. For a guy balancing his weight between the stern of his boat and the dock, thinking about sex instead of what he was doing was a real bonehead move. ![]()
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