Chapter 95
“Yes,” Kat agreed. “We all have made mistake. My mistake? Tucking my thumb in. Ow, that…that hurts!” Kat shook her fingers out, winced and cradled the arm to her chest.
Jason glared in the direction of Nick’s departing car, then back down to Kat’s hand. “If you broke your hand on that idiot’s head, I’m going to track him down and punch him again. Come on, let’s get you some ice on that.” He put an arm around Kat’s shoulders and led her back toward the kitchen.
Scooter pulled Andy into a tight embrace, cupping the back of his neck. “I’m so, so proud of you, sweetheart. That can’t have been easy.”
Andy shivered and tucked his face into Scooter’s neck. “It was…easier than I thought. I saw him, and I thought…why would I want that, when I have this? I mean, I spent seven years catering to his fragile ego and temper tantrums because I thought he was my only choice. But I looked at him and realized, he didn’t…he didn’t have any power over me.” He squeezed Scooter tighter. “But adrenaline letdown sucks.”
“Yeah, it sure does, baby. Look, there’s nothin’ inside that won’t still be there in a few hours,” Scooter said. “If you need to just chill for a bit. Take as much time as you need, sweetheart.” He pressed his lips to Andy’s forehead. He cradled Andy’s head, then sighed. “You know, I have too much wrong time on my hands…it’s not the right time for it, but it never is, so…I’m not sayin’ anything you need to say back, or anything. Just want you to know. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened for me. You told him you’re home. You are my home. I love you, Andy Howard.”
Andy barked out a shaky laugh. “Oh, God, do you know how long I’ve been trying not to say that because it would be too soon?” He looked up at Scooter, and if his eyes were watering, that was no one’s business but theirs. “I love you, too.” Carefully, he cupped Scooter’s face in his hands, then pulled Scooter to him and kissed him. Slow, and deep, and as sweet as Andy knew how to make it.
When Scooter came up for air, he was shaking, lower lip delightfully kiss-swollen and red. “You gonna let Kat hang that picture now? Symbol of your bravery, or what?”
Andy traced Scooter’s lip with his thumb. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t really be family if they didn’t insist on showing everyone embarrassing pictures.”
“Pretty much,” Scooter said. “Can’t get rid of us now.” He stepped back to let Andy hop down. “Let’s get out of this sun before we get burned, yeah?” He grabbed the flat of water and tucked it under one arm, leaving his other arm free to sling around Andy’s shoulders, pulling Andy into that familiar, comforting embrace. 35
The season was winding down. It was still hot as fuck during the day—the heat probably wouldn’t break until mid to late October—but at least it wasn’t so horrible at night anymore.
Scooter was in his office, ostensibly doing the books, but in reality, watching Andy sweep the floor. Kat had finally lost her cool a few weeks back and dragged him out to Norfolk to get a haircut, some new jeans, and a pair of decent shoes that would serve him well for long hours on his feet. Scooter didn’t know about the shoes, but he did like watching Andy’s ass in the new jeans, cleanly outlined and perky.
Besides, the books were depressing.
Between the fire and the storm, they were still hurting. They weren’t quite in debt, but profits were going to stretch lean during the winter months. A couple of local events in the autumn might make a difference, and Jason’d gotten short-listed for a sponsored Grill Off. There was a pretty hefty cash prize for that, of which Dockside would take half. But Dockside might have to close for a few months, mid-winter, just to save on the power bills and employee salaries. Scooter’s parents had never had to do that, and it would make things tough for all his employees. Jason and Kat would probably stick it out with him, but he might lose Elaine and definitely Melissa if he couldn’t keep them in hours.
The door chime jingled. It was late, they were technically open for about five more minutes, but business had been slow all night, and the stove had already been shut down. The grill would be stone cold by now, so there wasn’t much chance Scooter would turn it back on for a late-comer.
“Hey, Goldilocks,” said the person who came in, a voice that Scooter recognized immediately even though he couldn’t see yet, “somebody’s been sleeping in my bed.”
Andy rather pointedly kept sweeping. “Sorry, we’re closed for the night.”
“Closed? How are you closed to me, slick? I know the owner!” That was a very good snotty tourist accent, someone for whom knowing the owner was supposed to encourage obsequious behavior. Not generally Scooter’s style. He couldn’t get out of his desk chair; he was trying too hard not to laugh.