“I know. How could my best friend want to move onto the ocean? The one place I despise.”
Trevor shot up and pointed behind him. “I think I see a fin over there.”
Dustin glowered at Trevor. “Funny guy.”
“You know, I can get you over your fear of sharks. I’ll take you on a dive with me.”
“No thanks, Dive Master Ex-Best Friend.” Dustin returned his attention to the engine and away from his phobia. “Now, let’s see if we can fix this old motor. We’re men, right? It’s in our DNA.”
“Spreadsheets, marketing analysis, and business meetings are in our blood. I think the mechanical gene missed both of us,” Trevor complained, but he wanted to fix the engine himself more than anything. He’d spent hours watching YouTube videos and reading forums. It took weeks, but he knew all the parts of a diesel motor, how to change the oil, check filters, but he knew the basics weren’t going to cut it with this engine.
“Come on. I didn’t use up all my vacation time to watch you give up. I’ll make some calls and see if we can get someone out here to tell us what needs to be done.” Dustin stood and pulled his phone from his shorts pocket.
“No need. I know what needs to be done. I’m just not sure I can do it myself.” Trevor grabbed the beer and the water and eyed the sheets threaded through the cleats and wenches, trying to come up with a plan.
“What’s that?”
“I’ll have to rebuild the engine.” Trevor lifted his chin, snapped the tab on his beer, which made a tsst sound, and then chugged a few gulps of refreshing, relaxing, cool, fresh wheat taste. “And I’m going to do it myself.”
“Seriously? Do you remember what happened when we tried to fix your grandfather’s old Chevy?”
“That was different. We were teenagers who didn’t even know how to drive. I can drive cars and sail boats now. Heck, I can even sail this one if any tourists ever arrive.” Trevor eyed the little two-story shack he slept in that doubled as his office. “I’m going to do this.”
“I guess I better ask for some more time off. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”
Trevor quirked a brow at him. “You own the company.”
“Darn. I’d hoped you’d forgotten that part so I’d have an easy excuse out of this job.” He pushed up his nonexistent sleeves and eyed the water. “Can we work on land, though?”
Trevor clapped him on the back. “Sure, once I rig a pulley system to get the engine off the boat.”
“Fine. If you really need to rebuild this grease and metal blob yourself, then I’ll help, but if you change your mind, I’ll hire the repairman myself. It would be worth the money to get this thing running and get you out on the water like you’d planned so you can have some time off to get some beach days with bikini-clad babes.”
“I don’t think there are many hotties on Summer Island this time of year. I only said that so you’d come down and offer free labor.”
Dustin took another few gulps of his beer and then set it on the transom. “You think I didn’t know that? Despite knowing the truth, I came. That means I deserve the best friend award for backing your crazy, especially when it comes to the ocean.”
Trevor was thankful to have a lifelong friend like Dustin, even if he was a wild card and an effort to deal with at times, with his girl-hopping and overconfident ways. The way Trevor had been before he’d met Marsha and married her. She’d tamed him. Little did he know, she wasn’t relationship broke herself. He’d done plenty wrong, too, though. He should’ve supported her modeling career instead of trying to make her stay home and play house and support him all the time. “Thanks, man. I do appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m only here for the free beer and to see young girls in bikinis.” Dustin sat by the toolbox and handed Trevor a screwdriver, as if that would fix everything.
“Sorry. When I bought this place, I assumed the Florida beaches were always packed. Since the cape closed across Banana River, Summer Island has lost major business with the locals moving away and the housing market tanking, but it only needs time to adjust and become a tourist destination alternative to crowded Cocoa Beach. I’m just getting in early, which meant I could have waterfront property for a steal. Don’t worry. Where there is water, spring breakers will come. This little island might be small, but it has potential.”
“Yeah, potential for a person to come to die. You do know you’re not eighty and you could have a social life, right?”
“I know I can. I just don’t want one.” Trevor opened the cockpit locker and found some extra lines and blocks. “I just don’t want to be social. It’s a waste of time and energy, and right now, this place takes all of that and more.”
Dustin stood, eyeing the water and keeping a tight grip on the stainless steel davits. He really was a good friend. The best. If only women could be more like him—dependable, honest, strong, and fun. Someone he could work beside for hours and not have to talk about feelings all the time.
“You know, I could work on that old hotel while you work on the engine,” Dustin offered, obviously in hopes he could get far from the ocean and the creatures under the surface. For the bravest, most accomplished person Trever knew, Dustin’s irrational fear of the ocean was amusing.
“Nice try. That old hotel isn’t part of my business plan. You’re the resort and rental property guy, not me. You should buy it from me and start a resort. We could work here together.”
Dustin laughed. “There
