Page 6 of Only Ever You

“Thanks, Mrs Miller.”

Lucas shoots me a glare. “Stay here. We don’t need you getting in our way.”

I roll my eyes.

“Just be the lookout, Pip. Call out if anyone shows up.”

Exasperated, I huff out a breath, running my hand down my face. “Whatever.”

He disappears inside the house. Mrs Miller smiles at me again before she closes the screen door.

Stupid boys and their stupid games.

At least soon Lucas will be off to university. The only downside is that means Deacon will be too. I know he’ll never look at me as anything other than Lucas’s little sister, but he’s never impatient or unkind to me.

I let out a sigh.

He’s perfect.

He’s also nineteen and not about to fall in love with a twelve-year-old. I know that.

While other girls my age might flirt with older boys, I’m not that dumb.

Mrs Miller reappears with a tall glass of juice and a plate with some biscuits on it. “Here we go, Pippa. If you ask me, it’s much nicer out here instead of being cooped up in the house.” She places them on a small round table not far from the swing seat.

Pulling the table closer, she motions to the seat. “This is the perfect spot in the shade with a lovely breeze coming through. Call out if you need anything else.”

“I think I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Her smile widens. “You’re welcome.”

And then I’m left in the quiet of the summer day. Mrs Miller was right about one thing—I’d much rather be out here in the shade than inside on a day like today.

Taking a sip of the juice, I lean back in the seat and inhale a deep breath before grabbing my bag and pulling out my book.

I’m likely to be alone for hours, so I stretch out and get to reading.

It’s warm out there—the heat of the sun can still be felt in the shade of the verandah. But there’s a cool breeze and before long, I’m closing my book and my eyes.

I wrinkle my nose when something brushes against it.

As I force my eyelids open, Deacon comes into focus, a grin on his lips and his index finger an inch from my face.

“Hey, Pipsqueak. What are you doing here?”

Bouncing my gaze between the door leading into the house and Deacon, I shoot him a quizzical look. “I thought …”

“We reached our fishing spot when Dad got a call from work. He’s just grabbing his things and heading out. Why are you here? Lucas driving you crazy?”

I shake my head. “No, I?—”

A roar from inside the house catches our attention, and seconds later, Lucas comes flying out the front door. His boxer shorts and bare chest are confusing. Seconds later, his jeans and shirt soar through the air from above.

What the hell?

Lucas picks up his clothing and drags on his jeans, his eyes fixed on me the whole time. “Some lookout you turned out to be.”

Deacon’s head spins my way, and if looks could kill, I’d be six feet under. The pain and anguish in his expression—his eyes full of hurt and anger—are enough to make my stomach ache.