Page 69 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

Tiffany squeezed his fingers. “You let me worry about her for just a few hours.”

“Lucky’s probably going to kill me for inconveniencing one of his guests.”

She laughed out loud. “I’m hardly a guest at this point, honey.”

“True story,” Lucky said from Myles’s side, having silently appeared there, out of nowhere. “Here’s your coffee and some scones this morning, Tiff. Anything else you need?”

“Do you think you could be a dear and run up and get my tablet from my room, Lucky?” She patted Shelly’s shoulder. “Once Emma tires of the attention, Shelly and I are going to write a story together.”

“About Mommy.” Shelly beamed at Myles. “So I can read it to her when she gets home.”

“Jesus,” Myles whispered, but he forced a smile onto his face for Shelly’s sake. “Maybe you can read it to me and Jet first?”

Shelly nodded, all enthusiasm and sunshine.

“Great.” If he didn’t leave now, she was going to see him collapse.

“Go,” Tiffany told him, releasing his hand with another powerful squeeze.

Lucky grabbed his hand as soon as she let go and pulled him away. He followed, thankful for Lucky’s lead, because navigating the maze of furniture was beyond him.

“You okay?” Lucky asked as they neared the front door.

“Just when I think I am…” Myles shuddered.

“What do you need?”

Myles stared at the floor, willing the patterned rug not to go blurry, and trying to find an answer for that question that wasn’t impossible.

“Sit.” Lucky pushed him into a nearby chair. “Wait. I’ll have breakfast and coffee for you and Steven in a jiff.”

Myles sat, at once grateful to be alone and missing Lucky’s hand in his.

By the time he got his erratic breathing and stinging eyes under control, Lucky was back with his usual basket. “Go across,” Lucky said in an oddly soft voice for him. “Shelly is in good hands. I’ll let Jet know where she is, but Tiff loves kids and comes here for the company, so I promise, it’s all good, okay?”

“You sure?” He glanced over to where Shelly was chatting animatedly with Tiffany.

“Positive.”

Myles nodded as he stood. “Sorry about that, I⁠—”

Lucky dropped the basket onto the chair to throw his arms around Myles. “Don’t be,” he said into Myles’s chest. The hug lasted barely long enough for Myles to register it before Lucky was stepping back again. “This is exactly why you’re here. Family.”

Myles glanced up at movement in the pass-through window.

Ozzy stood there, Tris by his side, gazing at him.

Family. “I’m not running away from them,” he said.

“No one thinks you are.” Lucky rubbed a hand up and down his arm. “I promise.”

Jet’s voice filtered through Myles’s fog, coming from the kitchen behind Ozzy.

Ozzy turned to look over his shoulder. He smiled, something Myles hadn’t seen him do, probably in a hundred years, and kissed Tris’s temple before leaving the window, saying something, presumably to Jet, that Myles couldn’t hear.

“You okay with that?” Lucky asked.

“Yeah.” Myles shook himself and picked up the basket. “Sure.”