His bark of laughter echoed between them as he cupped her elbow and brought them to a halt near the sidewalk. Awareness shot up her arm, but it was the way amusement warmed his gaze that sent a tremor through her body.
“First of all,” he said, still holding her arm, and the firm yet soft touch of his fingers on her skin increased that awareness. “No one tells me what to do.”
She still couldn’t help but feel he’d been coerced. “What about Mac?”
He lifted a brow. “What about him?”
“Isn’t he your boss?”
At least, that’s what she recalled her cousin, Lyndsey, telling her yesterday, and Mac was one of the men Hunter had introduced her to at the table.
“Yeah,” he answered.
She shrugged. “Don’t you have to listen to him?”
His gaze narrowed a second before he replied, “Only during a mission.”
Mission?
Must be how they referred to a case.
She nodded and was unable to stop the teasing streak that shot through her. “So, you’re saying you were overjoyed to walk me home tonight?”
At that, he released her and blinked. “I…uh…”
Isla laughed. “Relax.” Smiling, she patted his arm. “I’m just messing with you.”
He blinked again and a smile twitched his lips. “Roger that.”
For the next few minutes, they walked in silence, crossing the road to their street that had three cottages on each side facing one another, six in total. Their street dead-ended into a sand dune. The small hill was a barrier to most of the gulf breezes blowing through and high tides, although they never reached this far in unless a hurricane made landfall. The houses on stilts, further down toward the east, normally saw that kind of action.
As they reached the first house on her side of the street, she stopped. “You can go ahead. I need to drop off this food to the Potters.”
Without waiting for a reply, she walked to the small porch of the cottage identical to the others then knocked on the door.
Within a few seconds, Mr. Potter opened the door and a smile erased exhaustion from his face and deepened the wrinkles around his eyes. “Isla! Hi, how was your day?”
“Hi, Walter,” she replied with a grin. “It went well. How is Mary?”
His wife recently had a hip replaced, but she was concerned about them both.
“Doing well.” He nodded. “She’s still in some pain but following the doctor’s orders.”
“How are you?” she asked. “You look tired.”
“Ahh.” He waved a hand and shook his head. “I’m fine. Comes with this ring. She took care of me last year when I had my knee done. Now it’s my turn to take care of her.”
A longing hit Isla deep in her heart but instead of feeling sad, she felt warmth from the love the elderly man had for his wife. Her parents had exhibited that kind of love and commitment, and she’d like to think they would’ve been like Walter and Mary had they had the chance to live this long.
“How sweet,” she said, handing the takeout bags to him. “Here, these are for you. I wanted to make sure you both have something to eat.”
“That’s right nice of you, Isla. Thank you,” he said, a smile spreading across his face again. “What do I owe you?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. Just remember to take care of yourself, too.”
“Will do.” He nodded. “You should get back to your date. He’s waited patiently for you this whole time. He’s got nice manners.”
Date?
