Page 100 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

“Slippers are good,” Jake reminded him. “Feels like home. Safe.”

They weren’t Jake’s bunny slippers, but he wasn’t wrong. The familiarity of them on his feet did hold a sort of homelike comfort. He wasn’t mad about that.

The B and B door opened to them, though neither of them touched it, and no one was on the other side, waiting.

Jake muttered a thank-you to her and hauled Steven through. “He’s in the kitchen.”

Unable to take his hand back if he wanted to—and he wasn’t quite sure he did want to—Steven followed through the dining room to the swinging door that led to the kitchen.

Shelly sat on the huge dog bed with MJ and Emma. Kreed was cooking, and Lucky was arranging dishes in the dishwasher.

Jake dropped Steven’s hand and hurried over to relieve him with a muttered “Sorry.”

Myles sat slumped at the kitchen counter, elbows on the granite surface, fingers tangled in his hair.

“Hey.” Steven put a hand on his shoulder.

Everyone except Jake stopped what they were doing to look at him.

“Mr. Stevie!” Shelly bounded up and wrapped herself around his legs.

“Heya, Shelly. How are you?”

“Went to the Y today!” And she was off, mile-a-minute, about—well, Steven wasn’t honestly listening, because Myles’s face had caught and held all of his attention.

A black eye had started on the left side, where his whole cheek was an angry red. His knuckles were raw, and he had a split fat lip.

“You’re here,” Myles said. His expression gave nothing away, and his eyes were too shadowed to be of any help figuring out what he was thinking.

“Jake—” Steven pointed at his brother.

Myles tilted his head. “Jake?”

“Takes after our sister, that one. Bit of a busybody.”

Myles almost smiled, but it shifted to a grunt and a grimace before his face went back to neutral.

Steven wasn’t sure what came next. If he wanted to talk to Myles, he didn’t want to do it with everyone there, watching from the corners of their eyes, questions practically bursting their curiosity at the seams.

Then the back door opened and Jet came in. He only glanced at Steven, avoided Myles’s eye completely, and held out a hand to Shelly. “C’mon, Shells. Ozzy needs our help at the Cabin. He has to fix up a room for Uncle Myles’s new friend.” At that, he did shoot Myles a dirty look.

Steven took a step back. “New friend?”

“Shit,” Myles whispered, and dropped his head back into his hand.

Shelly took her brother’s hand and followed him out of the Oaks without question, cat and dog both hot on their heels.

Animals were smart that way. Get while the getting was good. Steven wasn’t sure he blamed them one bit.

Squaring his shoulders, he put a hand on the back of Myles’s neck, a gesture that he already knew would get his attention and focus it. “I came all this way,” he said, as calmly as he could. “Best we talk, yeah?”

Myles shrugged.

“Best we talk,” Steven said again, with more conviction and a light squeeze of his fingers. Because he had come, and Myles had already acknowledged that he had, that he hadn’t been expected, and hell. He done the thing, and now Myles could damn well tell him what was going on.

He’d only ever used that tone of voice to get Myles to kiss him properly and didn’t know if it would work now.

It did.