“It’s smaller than I remember,” Reece observed.

“You’re just bigger,” Cooper replied. “How old were you last time you were on this boat? Ten?”

“Thirteen, that last summer.” Reece laughed unexpectedly. “I barfed all over Uncle Johnny’s customer and his prize tuna. That was great.”

Cooper had been fifteen when his parents had declared an end to summer vacations with Uncle Johnny. It hadn’t seemed right to leave Johnny to grieve and drink alone, but his parents had held firm. He’d thought there would be other summers, but Johnny had never again invited his nephews to visit.

“Ahh.” Max’s sigh of pleasure jerked Cooper back to the present. His youngest cousin had already found himself a place to sit and bask in the sun. “All I need is a frozen daiquiri and a couple of babes in bikinis.” He glanced over his shoulder at the yacht in the next slip, but the bikini-woman had disappeared.

Cooper jumped on his cousin’s weakness, using it to his advantage. “And you’ll have that. Once we get her polished up, the Dragonfly will be a babe magnet.”

“But can she support you and Max?” Reece asked. “Have you crunched the numbers?”

Cooper’s enthusiasm could not be dimmed by facts and figures-or their absence. “Are you kidding? She can support all three of us. You know what we have here?”

Reece arched one eyebrow. “A money pit?”

“A license to print money. We can charge thousands of dollars for each excursion. Max, with your sales and marketing experience you can bring in the high-rolling customers in droves. And, Reece, you can keep the business on track financially.”

“And you’ll be the captain?” Max asked, giving his cousin a dubious look.

“Yeah. Aw, hell, I don’t care about that. We can take turns if you want. But we’ll be equal partners. We won’t have to kowtow to our fathers and older brothers anymore.” The Remington clan was blessed-or cursed-with a surplus of male heirs brimming with ambition and testosterone.