She wondered if that comment was aimed at her. “But with two children to support, the stakes are different.”

“True.” He finished his ice cream and licked his fingers. “Children have a habit of killing adventure.”

She thought of the way Lisa had talked about her kids. Even in that brief encounter, she could see they were everything to her. “I think to some people kids are the adventure.”

“They can also be too much reality.” His tone was dry. “How is your ice cream?”

“The ice cream is delicious. The place should be packed.”

“It should be, but it never is. I’m probably a tiny bit to blame for that. The Ocean Club pulls in a lot of casual lunchtime and evening business.”

“But it’s a different market.”

“Maybe, but we’re all competing for the same tourist dollars.”

Emily glanced at the pretty ice cream parlor. “There should be room for both of you. Do you stock her product?”

“Sorry?”

“Do you serve her products at the Ocean Club?”

“I have no idea. I don’t micromanage. I leave that to the chef. I think he makes his own.”

“This ice cream is good. And it’s homemade on the island from the Warrens’ organic dairy herd.”

“How do you know that?”

“It says so on the poster. Makes me imagine green pastures and everything healthy, which is ironic given the fat content.” She finished her ice cream regretfully. “That was good. It wouldn’t hurt you to put in an order.”

“That’s what I have to do to gain approval?” There was humor in his eyes. “I’ll talk to Anton.”

“Anton? Seriously?” Emily laughed. “You have a chef called Anton?”

“I do.”

“Is he French?”

“No. Born and bred in Maine. The things he can do with a lobster would make you cry. Can those shoes of yours cope with a walk?” He glanced down at her feet. “There’s a view I want to show you.”

And suddenly she realized that she was standing in the street, laughing with a man as if this was her life. As if she were free to follow her instincts and impulses.

Just for a moment, with the sun on her face and Ryan by her side, she’d forgotten everything.

“I should get back.”

“Coward.”

“I’m thinking of Lizzy. I haven’t left her before.”

“She’ll be fine with my grandmother.” His voice was soft. “Walk with me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s midday and half the residents of Puffin Island are going about their business in Main Street. As you’re keen to avoid attention, I’m suggesting we get out of here.”

“You could just stop looking at me,” Emily muttered. “That would do it.”