“Thanks, baby,” he murmured against the top of her hair, obviously not caring it was greasy. He didn’t let her go far, keeping her close to his side with his arm around her shoulders, asking all of us. “Lobster Market, Breeze Point, the Boathouse or Tink’s?”

My choice was Lobster Market or the Boathouse because the former was wonderful and I’d never been to the latter but I’d heard it was good.

Cillian shouted, “Tink’s!” just as Aisling said, “Tink’s.” So even not voting, I was outvoted.

“Amy, babe?” Mickey asked me.

“Absolutely,” I replied. “Tink’s.”

Cillian raced toward my car, yelling, “I ride with Amy!”

Mickey turned his daughter around but did this stretching out a hand to me. I took it and Mickey got to walk with both his girls close as we made our way to our vehicles.

The only thing that happened during this brief trek was seeing the tall, good-looking sheriff Mickey had been talking to standing with his back to us between a car and an Explorer decorated in sheriff colors with a county sheriff insignia on the driver’s side door.

He was on his phone and I heard him asking tersely, “Trouble follow you from Denver?” and before whoever he was talking to could possibly reply, he demanded, “Answer me!”

I looked up at Mickey as we kept walking. He felt my eyes and gave his to me.

I lifted my brows.

He gave a shrug.

I let it go and we went to Tink’s, Cillian riding with me, Aisling riding with Mickey.

The burgers were again phenomenal.

But the place still scared me.

* * * * *

“Yeah. Right.” Pause. “Yeah, I get it. You forgot. That’s okay. I appreciate you showing.”

Mickey was pacing his room in nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms (these flannel also, but navy), his broad chest and cut abs bare.

Usually, I would watch this with great fascination.

But since I’d told him Rhiannon had come over and he was speaking with her while I sat cross-legged on his bed in one of my nighties, I decided to give them a modicum of privacy.

I did this tearing my eyes away from my guy, giving my attention to my own phone, and texting Robin.

Did you call Lawrie?

I sent that and then reached for the moisturizer Mickey bought me that was sitting on his nightstand.

I was rubbing it in when she texted back.

I finished rubbing before I grabbed my phone again and read, Yes. He’s coming to town. Wants to get drinks.

My hand curled around my phone and I just stopped myself from pumping my arm in victory.

Instead I texted back. Lovely, are you going?

To which she quickly replied, Of course, he’s Lawrie.

Fabulous!