Page 99 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

Steven turned back to look across the street over his brother’s shoulder.

On the B and B’s front porch, Lucky appeared, apron on, coffee pot in hand.

Steven waved.

Nodding once, Lucky turned and went back inside.

“Go on back to work, Jake,” Steven said gently. “I’ll call Myles. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“It’s important,” Jake insisted with another foot stomp. “You have to tell him this is not on.”

“I will.”

“To his face.”

“Jake—”

Jake lifted his head and glared at Steven, right in the eye, for a split second before the look glanced away again, bouncing over Steven’s shoulder and then slightly downward to the potted plant next to the door.

“This is really important to you.”

Another of those teeth-rattling nods.

“Why?”

“He’s important to you.”

He wasn’t wrong. But it was a summer fling, and not something Steven had a right to have a say in. If Myles was the violent type who got into fights, maybe it shouldn’t even be that.

“You have to look after him,” Jake said. “So he can look after Shelly. She’s little.”

“Myles is not little. He doesn’t need looking after.”

Jake looked up again, this time holding the eye contact while he spoke. “Everyone needs some looking after. Even me.”

“Oh jeez.” Steven almost pulled him into a hug to hide his grin and the amusement, pride, general bursting feeling of Jake-ness that overtook him, but then Jake stomped his foot a third time and let his gaze slide away again.

“Even you,” Jake went on. “I have Lucy and she has me. Steph has Bob. Lucky and Kreed. Tris and Ozzy.” He pointed a finger at Steven and shook it. “Don’t mess this up. It’s your turn!”

He couldn’t explain to Jake how temporary Myles was. How fleeting. How, at the end of the summer, all Steven would have was the house, the shop, the four walls that had become his responsibility to protect. He couldn’t explain it, because he didn’t want to say it out loud.

He had the house.

He thought about what Tiffany had said.

Maybe the house had him.

He glanced back at the closed door. It swung open, and for a split second, the relief that he might not have to leave was palpable. Then it swung, fast and jerky, and the OPEN/CLOSED sign flopped around to land on Closed. The door shut again with a determined clap of wood and snick of lock. Well, that message couldn’t be much clearer, could it?

“Okay,” he said on a sigh.

Jake lurched, his shoulders going up then pushing back, and he grinned. “Okay?”

“Okay, then.” Steven held out a hand. If Jake thought it was for him, that was fine. Steven knew it was because he needed the moral support.

Without a breath of hesitation, Jake took it and turned, practically yanking Steven into motion.

“Good thing I wear house slippers, Jake. You didn’t even give me time to put shoes on!”