Page 36 of The Romance Adventure

“Old enough to be crotchety.”

But my laughter dies when the man glances at us over his shoulder, all beady-eyed and prune-lipped like he’s casting a hex over us.

As if operating on instinct, we continue in the opposite direction, walking faster than before. I’m not sure whether to feel cautious, laugh it off, or what, but the pebbles that race across my skin, even in the heat of the day, make me want to sneak back under the desk in Mr. Edmonton’s office.

I shiver and rub my arms. “That was weird.”

“No, that was standard operating procedure for Coco Key.”

“Old men with canes routinely walk through town, issuing warnings?”

“You live here, don’t you?”

“I do now.” We’re about halfway to the resort property. Looking around, I say, “It’s cozy, in a beachy way.”

“Don’t you mean nosy?”

“Like nosy neighbors? You could think of them as quirky residents of this quaint town.”

“You can. I’ll call ‘em like I see ‘em. They were all in cahoots with Chip.”

“In cahoots, how?”

“If I remember correctly, that was Ray Higbee. He and Chip would play chess on Tuesdays. Mondays, it was canasta with Melly Lipman. Wednesdays were cribbage with Slidell Williams, and of course, Thursdays were backgammon with Amelia Cross. Friday was poker night and they’d all get together.”

“The guy looked like he was pushing ninety, at least.” I glance over my shoulder, but he’s gone.

“Don’t underestimate the power of the islanders.”

Royal’s pewter eyes scan me briefly, concluding with a swoopy side eye that I try to ignore because if circumstances were different, I’d risk swooning.

“So, what are you doing here, in the middle of nowhere, after Charleston and the rest stop?” Royal asks.

“I took a spontaneous road trip. But I prefer to think of here as the middle of somewhere—somewhere quiet, peaceful, beautiful.” I want to divert attention from my reasons for leaving South Carolina and hiding out here. “And you were up north for a skydiving expedition. Sounds like you live for thrills.”

“Something like that. But this is a forgotten Florida Key.”

“Just how we like it,” I say on the fly because I hope Dax, his thugs, and the police forget all about me. “It’s a place where we can forget our woes.”

“Which are?”

“I wouldn’t dare burden you with that.”

“But you did want to burp in my face.”

“You can be infuriating, Mr. McMuffin.” Clean up necessary on aisle Isla. The guy gets me flustered and flushed and fluttery. I’m a mess—in real life and around him.

“I’ve been told that and you have my apologies.”

“Ah, so you can be civil instead of surly.”

We reach the resort and both go still as if uncertain about how to proceed.

Royal says, “Don’t tell anyone.” Then he winks.

My heart does a double hiccup.

Royal