The Edge of Summer by Bobbi Maclaren EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Bobbi Maclaren
- Language: English
- Genre: Contemporary Romance Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
LUKE
“C’MON, LADY!”
The telltale whine of someone not getting their way floats through the
air as I pull open the door to the restaurant. A month or so from now, a
Saturday afternoon in the thick of summer, a line will trail from the host
stand, out the door and around the corner of the building. Today, business is
leisurely, giving me a front row seat to the scene unfolding at the bar.
My sister, like always, is stationed behind the counter. Dockside has
been her home away from home since high school, and rarely does she let
anyone else tend the bar. Right now, her arms are crossed as she regards the
men in front of her.
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On closer inspection, I note that the men are really boys. They’re both
sporting cutoff muscle tanks, cargo shorts and flip flops—the standard
uniform of a young Kip Island summer tourist—but all their attire does is
highlight their spindly limbs.
“I said no,” Clara emphasizes.
One of the teens crosses his own arms. “Why do you have to be such a
goddamn bit —”
I’d already witnessed enough, but the audacity of this kid to call my
sister a bitch has me seeing red. As I step up to the bar beside the boys, I try
to rein in my anger. I somehow manage because my voice is level when I
ask, “What’s going on?”
My sister’s lips purse at my interjection, but I pay her no mind. Clara
has had an aversion to my help ever since we were kids. As her older
brother, it was expected of me, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it,
too. I like taking care of my family.
The spokesperson for the duo throws his hands in the air. “This chick is
refusing to serve us. And she won’t give us our IDs back!” He says this in a
way that assumes I’ll share in his commiseration.
Clara scowls at him. “Because they’re fake.”
“They are not!” His chest puffs out in defiance. “We’re twenty-one.”
I hold a hand out, and with an eye roll, Clara relinquishes the driver’s
licences. Being right across the lake from Michigan, I’m more than familiar
with their state IDs. Year-round, but especially in the summer months, a
slew of American teens like to come to the island to openly indulge, and
some get into more than their share of trouble. I’ll give it to the boys—these
are good, but they severely overshot with their supposed birthdates.
“The good news is the drinking age in Ontario is nineteen,” I tell them.
“The bad news is that you’re definitely not nineteen, let alone twenty-one.”
“You said it was the same!” the quiet boy says, shoving the other.
“Shut up!” the loud one hisses.
“Tell you what.” I make a show of tucking the fakes into my pocket.
“I’ll keep these. And you can either ask Clara nicely for a cold pop or be on
your way.”
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