Page 44 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

“And you said no in favour of shelving dusty vintage romance novels with me?” He tilted his head to one side. “Sounds like you’re avoiding something yourself.”

“Max is in college, Steven. How would it look if Bob brought someone to watch the game who’s closer to his son’s age than his?”

“Like he was spending time with someone who makes him happy. And if his kid cares at all about him that’s exactly what he’ll see.”

“You don’t think it would be awkward?”

“I don’t think it has to be. And I don’t think you care about awkward. If you did, you wouldn’t constantly be playing Dear Abby at the B and B.”

“Well”—she held up a hand and started ticking off her fingers—“Lucky needed advice. Tris never had good parental influences to guide him, so naturally.” She curtsied, then went back to ticking off names. “Marcus was just lost, and Myles is Lucky’s friend.”

“So fair game.”

“Exactly.”

“But you still butt into their business and tell them what you think without a thought to how awkward it might seem. So not going to the game with Bob isn’t about awkward. What is it really?”

“Are you seriously about to try and give me romance advice?” Stephanie said, adding a second strip of old tape to her small tube.

“You don’t date, so how could I do that?”

She said nothing.

“He’s nice,” Steven pointed out, as if she didn’t know this. “And he makes you smile. He’s funny and likes the same things you do, which just proves what Mom always said about you being an old soul.”

She grimaced at him. “He’s not old. He’s a lot of fun.”

“Really not seeing the problem.”

“When it’s just me and him, going for hikes, or walking the shelter dogs, or staging one of his houses, or whatever…”

“Easy not to call any of that a date.”

Her gaze met his, near-panic shimmering in the blue. “I don’t want to date him. I just want it to keep being whatever it is. If it’s a date, it might lead… elsewhere.”

“Don’t anticipate him, Steph. Ask him. Or better yet, tell him what you want. And what you don’t want.”

“What if he’s not into someone who doesn’t want to sleep with him?”

“He’s plenty into you. And if he makes a stink about not having sex, he isn’t for you anyway. Better to find that out now. In all honesty, sis, I don’t think this is going to be a deal-breaker for him. You’ve never had a dearth of guys propositioning you, whether you like it or not. You’re stunning. And Bob gets to hang out with you exactly as you want, and he’s never tried it on. Maybe give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“You think?”

“I really do.” He shrugged. “Besides, if he turns out to be a horn dog in disguise, you can always become a hermit here with me.”

She threw her tape roll at him, and it unwound as it flew across the room, a pale gold time-worn ribbon of plastic that floated gently to the floor.

He snorted.

“Shut up.” Digging her phone from a pocket of her full skirt, she turned her back to him. “Go down and get another box while I’m still here so I know you don’t fall ass over teakettle down those stupid stairs.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He left her to her texting.

By the time he returned with two more boxes of Harlequins, she had flattened the first box and tidied the row of books they’d already inventoried.

“So?” he asked as he plonked the new boxes down to a cloud of dust.

“So.” She ran her hands down her skirt and bit her lip to hold back an obvious grin. “Game starts in an hour, but he hasn’t left yet.”