The wood had to be as particle-free as he could make it, so when he applied each layer of sealer it would be smooth and flawless. The entire hull needed to be airtight and prepared for multiple coats of marine epoxy and varnish. He had a hard time keeping his mind on the job, though. Now what? he wondered as he worked, viewing the world through the distorted shield of his safety goggles. What the hell was he supposed to do next? Like a fool, he’d started something with Kate Livingston. And like an even bigger fool, he’d destroyed it. It was a freak accident, falling for her. An unplanned event beyond his control. It was not supposed to happen. He cleaned every particle from the hull of the skiff, as meticulous as a surgeon sterilizing the field for an operation. He knew plenty about accidents. He’d been in the business of mopping up after them for years. “It was an accident” was something people said to him on a daily basis when he was on the job. “It wasn’t my fault” was another favorite.
