Page 52 of The Romance Adventure

“I don’t need your help.”

She squishes up her face. “I beg to differ and thought⁠—”

“Says the person who sticks up for my loser brother. You don’t know us.”

“You really just speak your mind, huh? No filter.”

“Actually, Isla was spot on in her assessment of each of us,” Ryan says.

“Fine. If you’re so eager to help, let’s get out of here.”

“And quick to give orders.” Isla rolls her eyes but follows me out the door, toting a slim bag over her shoulder.

“Listen, Mr. McMuffin, I’m the boss around here. The executress.” She lengthens her spine and I won’t lie, it’s adorable. Like a little kitten wiggling its rump to attack a dust bunny.

“Have you ever managed a property? Rehabilitated a building? Knocked one down?”

“No, but there’s a first for everything and I did just fine yesterday.”

“You were sweating bullets. I knew something was up.”

“I can handle this, Royal.” She steps closer to me and we’re toe to toe. I sense everyone on the other side of the window at Beans & Books is watching. Probably everyone in Coco Key. “You think you’re the big man around here. And fine. You’re very big.” She cranes her head to meet my gaze.

I force myself not to get lost in her striking blue eyes.

She stabs her finger into my chest, making her point. “And you’re very much a man. But try paying attention for once. You might just learn something.”

With each touch, it’s like she turns my breathing on and off. I can’t take it and stride down the street, ready to demolish something. Never mind a sledgehammer, I’ll use my fists.

Isla catches up. To keep my cool, I tell her the first three steps we have to take to determine if the place is salvageable.

But I can’t stop tracing what she said about there being a first for everything. Yeah, that’s for sure. The way I feel about her, for one. It’s like I’m pushing a boulder uphill even though there isn’t ground above sea level for miles.

If I want to keep my life as is, I can’t let Isla in. But like water finding the path of least resistance, I have a feeling she’ll seep through whatever cracks I have, no matter how hard I try to resist and shore up my vulnerable places.

We reach the gate in front of the Driftwood.

“Listen, if we’re going to work together, you have to cooperate and can’t act like a toddler who doesn’t want to share his toys.”

“I’m the toddler, Strawberry Shortcake?”

“It’s Isla. Can we start over? Try again?” She holds out her hand to shake. “Hi, my name is Isla Courage Pratt. I’m a mural painter and love jumbo cinnamon crumble muffins. I drive an old, beat-up truck, reading is just about as important to me as breathing, and I don’t entirely dislike tall men who drive BMWs but know their way around the aforementioned old trucks. It’s nice to meet you.” Her eyes sparkle.

My hand slides into hers and my entire life slows down. Past, present, future. I cannot imagine living without this woman by my side. I’ve never been at a loss for words until now because no way can I tell her that.

At a stage whisper, she says, “This is where you’re supposed to introduce yourself.”

I don’t. Can’t speak. Unable to move. My breath is steady, but every other system I rely on is paralyzed because I can’t do this the same way I always have.

It’s all Isla or it’s nothing. No one. A lonely life on that raft forevermore.

Lowering her voice to a deeper register, like she’s imitating me, Isla says, “Hi, my name is King Royal, Your Honor His Heiny the Third Esquire Majesty Sir McMuffin.”

My lips twitch with a smile. “You are ridiculous.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Gorgeous?” I risk asking.