Page 62 of Island Protector

Bryce, stopped short, tugging on her hand. “You said he was okay.”

“He is.” She glanced at Miles then crouched beside her son. “Leaving in a wheelchair is one of the rules when you leave the clinic sometimes.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Really?”

She held up her pinky, waiting for him to hook his little finger around hers. “I promise.” When he relaxed, they walked through the doors together.

Miles greeted Bryce as if nothing was wrong.

“Your face looks scary.”

“Thanks, kiddo.” Miles puffed up his chest. “You should see the other guy.”

“Where is he?” Bryce searched the waiting room as if the other guy might show up any second. “Mom said you had an accident. You look like you got in a fight.”

“Nothing gets by you.” Miles grinned. “It was kind of an accidental fight.”

“Who won?”

Molly ushered them toward the car. “We can sort that out later. Let’s get Miles home.”

Once everyone was situated in the car, she realized she didn’t actually know where he lived. She always saw him in town or around the marina at the sailing school. “I’ll need directions,” she said, trying not to make it awkward.

Miles nodded. “Head over toward Parker’s.”

“Are we getting something to eat?” Bryce asked. “Can we go see the boats?” Several more questions and answers followed between her son and Miles, until Molly asked him to pipe down so she could hear the directions.

She was nervous about seeing Miles’s home. He’d been to her place frequently, even before the recent escalation of their friendship. Something about going to his house felt more intimate or invasive. Or… something. A girlfriend should feel comfortable with it and she didn’t.

Her odd nerves seemed like a weird reason to break up. They’d barely even started a relationship. Better to brave it out. Wait and see. It might resolve itself once she shared her theory that she was the problem.

Bryce asked about dinner again when they passed the sign pointing to Parker’s Fish Camp.

Miles pointed. This is the turn.”

She’d never paid attention to the small lane that diverted from the main road to the restaurant. “Isn’t this a county service lane or something?”

“No. It’s privately owned by the Parker family.”

She drove deeper into the marsh. Trees dripping with Spanish moss lined one side of the narrow lane while an expanse of swaying marsh grasses, glowing gold and green in the afternoon light, stretched out on the other.

Around a bend in the road, a house appeared. The Cypress siding was weathered to a silvery gray, fitting in perfectly with the surroundings. The house had clearly been well-maintained. The steps were straight, the wide porch wrapped around the house like a hug. To one side of the door a swing floated with the breeze. On the other, two chairs flanked a low table. A very southern welcome, it left her wondering who came out to visit and use those chairs.

“Do you get a lot of company?” she asked.

“Mostly Eddie Parker,” he replied. “Knox swings by whenhe’s in town.” He gingerly twisted to look at Bryce in the back seat. “You want to come in?”

“Do you have hushpuppies?”

“Sorry, fresh out.”

“Cookies?”

“I’m human, aren’t I? As long as your mom approves, I’ll share.”

Bryce leaned forward. “Please, Momma?”

“We have cookies at home,” she hedged. “We’ll just get Miles settled and?—”

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