They parted ways. Luke drove through the deserted downtown. All the businesses were locked up tight and safe for the night. A plus to living in a small town. He’d had his share of big cities and found Cypress Pointe suited his temperament.
He reached the marina, pulling up to find red and blue lights swirling from a police car parked in the lot. Shoot. Not what he’d wanted to see. Chief Gardener spoke to a blond-haired teenage boy slouched against the squad car.
Parking a few feet away, Luke met the scene with the right amount of sympathy and steel he’d adopted since starting Kids’ Klub.
“Chief. What’s going on?”
“Seems young Snyder and his buddies intended to sneak onto a boat moored here. Instead, they broke some glass on the dock. Made a ruckus.”
Luke stared down at the teen. “Kyle, we talked about this.”
The boy hung his head in silence.
“Are you charging him?”
“Lucky for him he cleaned up the mess after his friends took off.” The chief put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He’s free to go, as long as he tells me this is the end of this nonsense.”
Kyle, his eyes partially hidden under messy bangs, met the chief’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s not a promise.”
The teen sighed. “Yeah, I promise.”
The chief removed his hand and nodded to Luke. “He’s all yours.”
Kyle stepped away from the car, head down as he approached Luke.
“Let’s get you home.”
Once in the car, Luke waited before speaking. Kyle huddled against the passenger door, as far away from Luke as possible. In working with at-risk teens, he’d found that helping certain kids meant making them sweat it out a bit. Kyle was no exception. Luke started the car, motored from the lot.
“Thought you stopped running with that group.”
Kyle shrugged, with the feigned nonchalance only teens could pull off.
“Was there an answer in that shrug? Because I sure didn’t hear anything.”
“It’s not easy,” Kyle mumbled.
“Nothing is. But if you want me to keep your place in the music program at the Klub, I can’t be bailing you out when your buddies leave you to take the fall. This is the second time.”
Kyle’s head jerked up. “You’d kick me out?”
“If you get in trouble again, yeah, I will.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hastings. I don’t want to leave the program. I’m finally getting the hang of those chords you showed me.”
“Then you’d better remember that the next time you go to cause trouble.”
Kyle straightened in his seat. “I will.”
The remainder of the journey passed in silence until Luke pulled into Kyle’s driveway and put the car in park.
The house was situated in a nice, older neighborhood. The homes were fairly close together. He’d noticed a few bikes on the ground in a yard across the street. Heard a dog bark down the block. Very middle class, very reassuring.
Since settling in Cypress Pointe, Luke had bought a house on the edge of town, within walking distance from the Gulf Waters. Separated far enough on each side from prying neighbors, it became less of a sanctuary and more of a prison of his own making. The past few months had been better, but if he were honest, he’d been waiting for something to threaten his hard-earned peace. Who would have thought a woman with incredible green eyes would be the one to disrupt his quiet spell?
Shaking off the thought, he cut the ignition and turned in his seat.
“Kyle, you have talent. Don’t blow it over some guys who don’t care about you.”
“I hear you, Mr. Hastings.”
“Do you? It seems like we’ve had this conversation before.”
Kyle slumped in his seat.
“Now let’s go talk to your parents.”
Apprehensive eyes met his. “Do we have to?”
“You know the rules.”
“Stupid rules,” Kyle muttered as he opened his door to slide out. In the cover of darkness, Luke grinned at the boy’s discomfort. Wished someone had cared enough to enforce rules when he was a kid so he and his brother wouldn’t have ended up in hot water more than a few times.
As they walked up to the front porch, Luke said, “You know, Kyle, you could call me if you’re not sure what to do.”
Kyle glanced at him. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“No. So long as it’s not a habit. I wouldn’t mind helping you out. Before the cops do.”
A sheepish grin curved Kyle’s lips. “Got it.”
When they reached the house, the front door flew open. Kyle’s parents stood in the doorway, the bright light from inside silhouetting them.
“Kyle,” his mother said, hand over her heart. “Come inside.” She opened the door to let her son in while her husband stepped out.
“I’ll be just a minute,” he told his wife.
Kyle nodded at Luke then followed his mom.
“I’m sorry Kyle inconvenienced you, Mr. Hastings.”
“Luke, please. And it was no bother. I happened to be out anyway.”
The older man crossed his arms over his chest. “Kyle’s doing so much better. He really enjoys the program at the Klub.”
“But kids still get lured into what they think is an exciting life. I understand.”
“Will he still be able to continue with his guitar lessons?”
“Yes. But I told him if he gets in trouble again, his place will be in jeopardy.”
Kyle’s father nodded. “Thank you.”
“I want Kids’ Klub to help kids like Kyle, so I hope he’ll use better judgment in the future. Good night.”
Luke drove home, his thoughts slipping from Kyle to his own brother. Would a program like the one he’d started have helped Mark or had he been destined to be drawn to trouble? He supposed he’d never know, especially with Mark behind bars at the moment.
But there was one thing Luke did know for sure. Despite the constant worry about funding the Klub, enlisting help as the programs grew, or even doubting his brother’s turnaround, Luke didn’t regret starting Kids’ Klub for one second. If he helped one kid get away from an abusive home or criminal influence, it was worth the hurt of his old life to get the Klub off the ground.
Dane was wrong in the sense that while it might look like Luke wasn’t living, helping kids brought great meaning to his life. Luke may need a personal shake-up, but he didn’t want to alter this part of his life. The kids were his family.
The other part? Maybe talking to a perky woman who caught his attention while in town for her father’s wedding wouldn’t be as hard as he imagined. What was the worst that could happen?
THE NEXT MORNING, Cassie sat at her sister’s kitchen table, feet hooked over the lower rung of the chair, her elbows bent while she balanced a pencil on her fingers. A half-empty cup of coffee, her third so far, sat within reaching