Page 82 of The Bodyguard

Connie gave him a look, like Really? and Hank explained: “I’m starting on the boat today.”

From Connie’s reaction, that was serious.

It caught Jack’s attention, too. “The boat?” he asked.

Connie nodded. “I told Dad the other week that if they didn’t get busy building it, I was going to sell it on eBay.”

Jack nodded. Then he turned to face Doc. “Do you want some help?”

But Hank spun around, like he couldn’t believe Jack had just said that. “What?”

The whole mood in the room went rigid, but Jack still kept his friendly, relaxed vibe.

“I’m offering to help you build the boat,” Jack said.

“You’re offering,” Hank said, like he could not have heard correctly, “to help build Drew’s boat?”

Jack kept a steady gaze on Hank. “It’s better than Mom selling it on eBay, right?”

“Nope,” Hank said.

“Sweetheart,” Connie said to Jack, “we know you mean well…”

Doc let out a shaky sigh. “That’s probably not a good idea, son.”

At the consensus, Jack put up his hands. “I was just offering,” Jack said.

That’s when Hank took a step closer. “Well, don’t.”

Jack was holding still now, all pretense of affability frozen.

“Don’t talk about the boat,” Hank said now, glaring at Jack. “Don’t go near the boat. Don’t touch the boat. And for God’s sake don’t ever offer to help build it again.”

At that, Jack was on his feet and moving toward him. “When are you going to let it go, man?”

They were staring at each other like they were in a game of chicken when Hank noticed the leather necklace at the base of Jack’s throat. His eyes locked on the sight.

“What are you wearing?”

“I think you know what it is.”

“Take it off.”

But Jack shook his head. “Never.”

At that, Hank reached for it, like he might try to rip it off. But Jack blocked him. “Don’t touch me, man.”

“Take it off,” Hank demanded again—and then they were fighting. Not landing punches, exactly, but grabbing at each other, scuffling, shifting off balance, slamming into the kitchen cabinets. Pretty standard fighting for people who don’t fight much.

Doc Stapleton and I were on it right away to separate them. Doc steered Hank away, and I twisted Jack’s arms behind him like a pro before worrying that might give me away—and then shifting into an awkward hug.

When we’d broken their momentum, the two guys stood back, breathing, glaring at each other.

That’s when Connie said, “Enough!”

They lowered their eyes.

Hank said, “Do you see what he’s wearing?”