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free on several occasions, and once hauled all their sopping-wet laundry to a Laundromat when their washer broke in the middle of a spin cycle. Nobody could claim to know River, not really, but he was slowly becoming one of them, building a bridge to where they were. And he’d shown up at It’s Five O’clock Somewhere a few times, tipping Cole extra even though he only sipped a Sprite. Yes, there was definite hope for River, and that made Brendan especially happy, since Brendan liked everybody to get along. “Let’s not fight,” he’d say, whenever they’d snap at each other over tiny gripes. Tomas and Marc went at it the most, bickering like two-year-olds, but with an undercurrent of past hurts.
    “Oh, by the way,” Brendan said to River, “I saw a couch sitting out on First and Powerline. It was a thing of beauty. If I wasn’t on my bicycle, I would have taken it. It might still be there.”
    “We don’t need another couch.” Marc scowled.
    “What color?” River asked.
    “Green with flowers. I know—” Brendan held up a hand. “But it could be redone so easily.” His eyes danced at Marc’s groan.
    River and Brendan enjoyed garbage hunting, which they claimed was a better form of shopping, hauling back lawn chairs or end tables and fixing them up into useable condition, co-conspirators of the dumpsters.
    “One person’s trash….” Brendan always grinned.
    Cole never joined them or commented on it. There’d been too many times when his mother was between boyfriends and he was hungry, and he’d gone outside the fast-food restaurants to wait for them to toss out uneaten burgers and fries. But this wasn’t something he shared with the others. He could have shared it—Cole knew his brothers would be there for him and never judge him—but he kept some things to himself.
    “I don’t care if I had thrown something away,” Marc said. “If I saw some asshole out at the curb taking my garbage, I’d be pissed.”
    Tomas put him into a pretend choke hold, then tickled Marc’s side. “But you’re always pissed about one thing or another, yeah? So what would it matter?”
    Marc gave a big smile even as he flipped Tomas his middle finger.
    “Where’s dessert?” Brendan asked. He loved chocolate. He smacked his lips in appreciation as Marc got the silk pie out. “I’m organizing a 10K race with my bicycle group next week, and I need lots of calories to burn off. Anybody want to join us for the race?”
    They all groaned. Brendan never sat around and simply relaxed. He went from one activity to another, from furniture diving to law school study groups to bicycle races—nobody could keep up with his ever-growing projects. Personally, Cole found it fine to sit on his ass and watch television on his days off. Not Brendan. He didn’t take days off.
    After dinner Brendan cajoled them to pile into Tomas’s truck and head to the beach. He started with Cole first as they did the dishes together.
    “It’s summer and still light. C’mon. Please?”
    Cole cocked an eyebrow. “I love how you beg. Do it some more.”
    “I don’t beg.” Brendan made a deliberately goofy face, sticking his tongue toward his nose and then panting like a dog. “Much.”
    Cole laughed. “Let’s go ask the others.” He hooked an arm around a happy Brendan. “You won’t drop it until I agree anyhow.”
    “True.”
    “You want to go for a quick swim before sunset?” Cole asked Marc. He already knew the answer. He looked at Brendan and they communicated silently.
    “We’d love for you to join us. It will be fast?” Brendan said.
    “Not me. I’m up too early.”
    “Sure.” Brendan smiled. “I understand.” His gaze looked kind and steady.
    All of them knew that Marc rarely went to the beach. When he did go, he wore swim shirts and long trunks and acted uncomfortable with it all. Marc had a firm, muscled body, but he was self-conscious. Once, at the gym, Cole and Brendan had seen why.
    “I’m off to punch the