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curls. "Give me more. Please."

Tor nodded and the sense of playfulness morphed into something a little more serious as Tor licked

at him, teasing the ring. His hand stroked Jake slowly, root to head, and Jake's legs spread, giving

him better access. Tor took it, the heel of his hand brushing over Jake's balls.

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Water ran into Jake's eyes and he closed them, concentrating on the sensations Tor was layering

over him. A hand rough from work, tongue warm but not as hot as the water, and finally suction

when soft lips closed around him. Jake's breath sped up and his fingers curled against the tile as he

held himself still; years had taught him that there were times it was just better to let Tor do what he did for as long as Jake could stand it.

Moments later his hand was flat again because if he was keeping his hips still then something else

had to give; Tor wasn't taking the time to tease, maybe was having a hard time holding back him-

self. He was sucking Jake's cock like it had been months rather than a few long days, and Jake's

eyes flew open. "Don't you make me fall over," he warned. He knew exactly what would happen if Tor was going to give him the kind of blow job that had earned him his nickname.

Tor came off his cock and stared up at him, eyes more glittering than twinkling. "Hang onto some-

thing solid, then," he said, then dove back down.

"Fuck!" Jake grabbed at Tor's shoulders with both hands as Tor went down on him, sucking hard and then playing his tongue on the underside of Jake's dick. The next thrust was Jake's, it had to be,

and he had to drag his cock against the suction, almost quivering. When he plunged back into Tor's

mouth it happened, that weird, slippery, twisty thing Tor could do with his tongue, and Jake was

gone. He managed to hold on for two more thrusts like that before his head tipped back and he

shot, his entire body tight and tense and then suddenly floating.

He was panting as Tor eased him down, both from his orgasm and literally to the floor of the tub.

"Want to fuck me?" he whispered, hands shaking as he reached for Tor's face, kissing him sloppily.

"Yeah," Tor whispered back. He groaned, though, and pushed Jake's hands down, dragging them to his cock, hard and leaking. "Can't though, not gonna--"

Jake knew, he could feel it in the way Tor was shaking almost as hard as he was. He ran his fingers

over Tor's cock once, then jacked him hard, with one purpose. "Don't worry," he said against Tor's skin. "I got you."

Tor lurched, his hips bucking up, and Jake didn't tease any more than Tor had. He stroked with one

hand, the other digging into Tor's thigh, and flicked his hand over Tor's ring on the upstroke.

"Yes," Tor hissed, and as he started to come Jake kissed him hard, tongue pushing into Tor's

mouth. Tor spilled over his hand, hot and wet, and the shower took care of the mess, almost to

Jake's regret. He liked it when there was evidence for a few moments at least.

Tor laughed softly into the next kiss, his arms wrapping around Jake. "Damn. We need to try that

again later."

Jake grinned, happy enough to stay where they were for a few minutes. The water felt nice, almost

like rain. "Sounds like a plan."

"We'll fit it in around the other plan."

Jake raised an eyebrow. "What other plan?"

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"The one about yard sales and breakfast and coffee. And other people wanting to use the bath
-

room."

Jake sighed. "Oh. That plan. They can wait a bit."

"It's not even six. They can wait a lot."

That sounded about right to Jake, so he kissed Tor again and didn't think about anything other than

being warm and naked and mostly clean.

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By nine the sale was in full swing. The yard was full of people and the amount of things had dimin-

ished by half. Jake wasn't surprised by the turnout; aside from people who knew 'Lissa and wanted

to stop by to wish him and Jacob well, there was the usual crowd of dedicated yard sale aficiona-

dos, hell-bent on finding a bargain.

What did surprise Jake, however, was that people utterly ignored the prices he and Cath had put on

everything. Those who knew what had happened pressed money into his hand, five or ten dollars,

and took things priced at two dollars. The family who bought the kitchen set paid double and

wouldn't take no for an answer. Others, Tim MacPhee included, merely handed Jake money and

shook his hand before walking away with nothing.

He could hear quiet conversations all around him, people talking about 'Lissa and what she'd meant

to them. There were long conversations about her books, about times that she'd made coffee for

someone and spent an evening talking about movies or stories or telling them about some little

happening. Those people would come to him with shining eyes and pay for the book or cut glass

dish and walk away with their own little memento of what his sister had meant to them.

He felt horrible when that happened, and tried to refuse their money, but each person protested.

They wanted to help and he had to let them; it was healing, in a way.

Cath was wandering around and helping people sort through boxes when Jake and Tor took a man

and his teenaged daughter into the house to look at some of the bigger furniture. She was getting

ready to go to college in the fall, and her daddy figured she might as well have as much as they

could afford--and he wasn't about to give up his own couch and chair. While Jake was happy that

the young lady had a father who wanted to set her up right, he couldn't help but be a little envious;

his own family had hardly been as kind to him. He made a mental note to make sure Jacob was

treated well when he went off to college and left Tor to work out the details about pickup or deliv-

ery.

He joined Cath, standing in the sun, and draped an arm around her shoulders. "It's going well," he said, more to say something other than 'are you okay?' again.

Cath nodded and beamed up at him. "Jake, I've got more than three hundred dollars in my pocket.

These people… they've been so
kind
."

Jake looked at her, almost stunned into silence. He knew damn well he had about that much in his

own pocket. "That's incredible," he said weakly. "Shit, Jacob'll be able to buy his own damn horse if this keeps up."

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Laughing, Cath turned and hugged him quickly. "Put it in an account for him."

"I will," Jake promised. He shook his head and looked around at the people who were being so

generous to Jacob. "Damn." He had no idea what else to say.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. "Taggart." Tor's voice was low and serious, and Jake immediately turned to see what was wrong.

"Calm yourself," Tor said, still talking quietly. "And stay that way. I need you to take a look across the street at the man standing there. And then I need you to tell me I'm seeing things."

Jake turned, but not as fast as Cath. Her face went from confused to pale and worried so fast Jake

thought she might fall over. "Shit," she hissed.

Tor's hand tightened on his shoulder, but Jake shook it off, eyes on the man who was smoking

across the street, leaning on a beat-up old wreck of a car. "Take Jacob in the house," Jake said to Tor, stepping forward. Cath was right there with him, her shoulders back and her eyes narrowed.

"And you."

"Yeah, right," she snorted, matching him step for step. "He's my asshole brother, too, you know."

Jake sighed and glanced back at Tor who was watching them go with a worried look. When Jake

waved a hand at him in a shooing motion, Tor rolled his eyes, but he shooed. Across the street,

James tossed his cigarette down and stepped on it, watching Jake and Cath come to him.

Cath got there first. While Jake made sure his arms were down by his sides and his hands were re-

laxed, Cath had her arms crossed across her stomach, every inch of her showing her rage. "You

missed her funeral," she said coldly, standing right in front of James. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Florida." James' voice was faded and dry, like his throat was closed and unused to speaking. "Just found out the day before yesterday. I'm sorry." He looked at Cath, then back down at the ground.

"You look good, Slip."

"You look like hell, Scrap."

He did. He looked old and worn out, his face lined and gray, his hair lank and lifeless. He looked

like Jake had felt for the days around the funeral.

James appeared to ignore that, his eyes fixed on his boots, as far as Jake could tell. "Did she… was it fast?" he asked quietly.

Cath's face lost some of its rage, morphing into mere pain. "She didn't hurt," she said. "It was quick."

"Good," James whispered, and his gaze darted to Jake's face before dropping again. "Where's Jacob?"

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"In the house," Jake said, not looking to make sure.

"Can I see him?"

Jake looked at Cath, unsure of what to do. His first reaction was to say no and leave it at that, but

he wasn't unbiased. Not that Cath was, but she had a better way about her, and James was still fam-

ily.

Cath sighed. "Why?"

James finally looked up, his lined face full of a pain Jake couldn't name. "Because he's her boy. Because no matter what happens, 'Lissa was my sister, too."

Cath nodded slowly, but Jake found himself shaking his head. "James," he said, trying to keep his voice calm and even and low. "Do you know I'm his guardian? That he's coming to live with me?"

James nodded slowly, his hand dipping into a pocket and pulling out another cigarette. "Yeah.

Think it's wrong. Think you're wrong, right to your bones. But there ain't nothing I can do about it."

Jake willed his hands to stay loose. "Why not?"

James made a disgusted sound and put the cigarette between his lips. "Look at me, Jake. I ain't got nothing. I don't have a house, a job, or any hope of getting one. I'm sick, I'm an alcoholic, and I've

abandoned three kids. What would I do with him? No way I could take him, no way a court would

give him to me. Jess is too old." He looked at Cath and away again. "And Slip doesn't see things the way I do."

"Don't call me that," Cath said, her voice catching a little. "No more."

James sighed again and looked at Jake, his eyes cold and blank. "I hate you. I hate that the girls love you, I hate that you screwed up and still got a good life. I hate what you are. But that don't

take away the fact that Jacob is my blood."

"No, it doesn't," Jake agreed. "But I can't have you poisoning him."

"I just want to see him. Once more, before you take him away."

"Don't make me get a restraining order against you," Jake said softly. "Because I will. You say one wrong thing, James, and so help me God, you'll wish you never left Florida."

"Already wish that," James mumbled. "I just want to look at the boy, go see where 'Lissa's buried, and then I'll leave. You'll never see me again."

Jake could only hope that was true. "Stay here," he said. "I'll go see if he'll talk to you." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked back to the house, nodding to Elias who was standing

guard by the door. "If Cath starts to cry," he said, "deck him."

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"You got it," Elias said with a nod, his gaze firmly across the street.

Jake found Tor and Jacob in the kitchen, Jacob looking furious and Tor looking stressed. "He wants to see you," Jake told Jacob. "I said I'd see if you wanted to."

Jacob frowned. "What did he say to you?" he demanded. "Is he going to try to take me away?"

Jake shook his head. "No. And he couldn't, even if he tried." He ran his hand through his hair and stifled a sigh. "Look," he said, meeting Jacob's eyes. "James is… well, he's broken. He's not doing well, and I think he's pretty messed up. He just wants to see you before he leaves town."

Jacob looked at Tor for a long moment, then back at Jake. "Will you come with me?"

"Yes." Lord, yes. No way he was letting James be alone with Jacob.

Jacob nodded once and took a breath. "Okay. But if he's mean about anything, I want you to hit

him or something."

"Not a problem."

Jake and Jacob went back outside and across the lawn, ignoring the furtive looks from the people

still wandering about the yard. James and Cath were right where Jake had left them, but Cath

moved to Jake's side, both of them just behind Jacob, like guards.

James swallowed and stood a little straighter. "Jacob," he said, his voice still cracked and ragged, a rasp more than anything. "I'm real sorry about your mother. She was a good woman," he said for-mally.

Jacob nodded and looked at Jake, uncertainty in his face. "Yeah," he said to James. "She was. I miss her."

"I'm sure you do. You always will, most likely. But try hard to remember her, and try to grow into a good man. Just like she knew you'd be. Study hard, okay? Be more than any of us. Well, be as

smart as Slip, anyway. Stay out of trouble." He took a step back and looked at Jake. "That's all I've got to say."

Jacob looked bewildered, and Jake put an arm around his shoulders. "It's okay, kid," he said softly.

James opened the car door and looked at them all once more. "Take care of each other. Be a family, for 'Lissa if not me." He climbed in the car and slammed the door, the engine turning over almost

immediately.

Jake, Cath, and Jacob stepped back out of the way and watched as James pulled out and drove

away.

"That was…" Cath waved a hand in the air.

"Weird," Jacob said, shaking his head. "He's not coming back."