His Horizon - Con Riley Page 0,8

for bed and breakfast, unchanged down to its faded wallpaper and sink in the corner. Now it was filled with his sister’s belongings, his duffle next to a stack of cardboard boxes. He glanced through one as he quickly dragged on some clothes, noticing several of the college textbooks missing from his old room. Another box held random knick-knacks. He pulled out a mug Louise had gifted him for a past birthday.

World’s #1 Worst Brother.

She hadn’t been wrong about that.

He carried it with him as he headed for the stairs, stopping on the way to peer through the doorway of his old room again. The decor certainly was an upgrade, a stylish blank canvas compared to the way he’d left it, but finding his life boxed up still left him unsettled. Mug in hand, he continued down the hallway.

The eaves sloped in Louise’s old bedroom, oak wall beams visible where she used to pin up distance swimming rosettes, splashes of gaudy ribbon now conspicuous by their absence. Instead, more new artwork hung on the walls. He admired one depicting much calmer waters, its turquoise-green shades also visible outside this room’s window. The anchor motif was also repeated, he noticed, dotting new curtains that framed the view, another heading a breakfast menu set on the bedside table.

He picked it up to read the price of a full-English fry-up. “How much!” Jesus, it was four times what his mum had charged their usual tourists—working-class families who saved all year for a week at the beach campground. There was no need to charge them the earth, his mum had always said. That way, they’d come back for their lunch and dinner. “Eighteen fucking fifty,” he muttered under his breath. That showed how little Rob knew, charging London prices for a much more down-to-earth demographic. And what was with all this New Anchor signage? Okay, Jude had been gone for a while, and he’d had a lot on his mind, but if Louise had even once mentioned renaming their home, he would have remembered. The downturn in profits couldn’t have been helped by so much needless rebranding.

He stepped into the hallway, menu and mug both in hand, to be faced with the door to his parents’ bedroom.

He backed away rather than open it. She wouldn’t have touched anything in there, at least. No, the pub would have to be on the verge of closure before Louise would take down the maps that papered those walls, or box up their possessions.

A door opened and closed downstairs, a man’s voice calling out for his sister.

Rob.

Jude turned his back on his parents’ room and followed the sound of his sister’s answer. He found them both in the kitchen poring over a crate of shellfish, another reason why their bank balance could be under pressure. He paused in the doorway to see Rob pluck a lobster from the crate, pretending it might nip Louise’s nose. They made a pretty picture, his sister smiling and flushed as Rob beamed at her.

God, but he looked good.

So good.

In daylight, it was even more apparent, his eyes as dark as his hair, stubble a sexy shadow defining his jaw. Rob tucked a strand of frizz behind Louise’s ear, gentle, and Jude spoke up, more abrupt than he intended. “How much did that lot cost?”

Louise startled at his voice, Rob putting himself between her and Jude as if he was a threat rather than her only brother. Louise stepped out from behind him, flustered. “Much less than you’d think,” she said. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Rob’s doing a deal with Carl. Said he’d cook special meals whenever he wanted if he gave us a big enough discount for the rest of the season.”

That didn’t seem likely. Carl might’ve been like an uncle to him and Lou, but he also drove a hard bargain. Before he got the chance to say so, Rob extended a hand. “Good to see you again, Jude.” His lips only lifted slightly like Jude wasn’t worth investing in a whole smile. His eye contact was direct if much cooler than it was the last time they’d seen each other. “At last,” Rob added, a quiet rebuke Jude wasn’t about to take without comment.

“I told Lou I’d be back for the summer season. So thanks for filling in, but I’m here now to take over.” He pulled the crate of shellfish across the new steel bench towards him, holding tight as though that might stop him