Maybe if he ignored the comment, Gramp would let the subject drop.
“You both ready to go home?” He started toward the door.
“Yes.” Isabel pranced ahead.
Gramp fell in beside him. “You and Devyn had a long conversation.”
It appeared the subject wasn’t going to be dropped.
“Not that long. I was returning a piece of paper she dropped.” He picked up his pace.
Gramp did too.
“Charming young woman. Isabel’s taken a fancy to her too.”
Too.
A word rife with implications best ignored.
“She seems to have a way with children.”
“With grown-up men too.”
Aaron reached over Isabel’s head and pushed the door open, keeping his expression nonchalant. “Sounds like she’s caught your fancy.”
“She has indeed. If only I were forty years younger.” He shook his head. “But I know someone who is.”
“Dad, can we stop at the ice cream truck if it’s on the wharf tonight?”
At Isabel’s question, he turned his back on Gramp. “I think that could be arranged.”
“Yay! I’m going to get a fudgesicle. What are you going to get?”
“A firecracker, I think.”
“Haven’t you already had your share of fireworks tonight?” Gramp nudged him again, chortling.
He’d walked right into that one.
“I thinkyoushould get a screwball.” A touch of annoyance crept into his tone, despite his effort to tame it.
“My humor must be hitting too close to home. Interesting. Very interesting.”
“Give it a break, Gramp.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Isabel looked between them as they approached the car.
“I was kidding your dad about—”
As Aaron shot him the evil eye, Gramp fell silent.
“About what?” Isabel peered at him.
“It was a grown-up joke, honey.” Aaron opened the back door and shepherded her in.
“Oh.” Isabel settled into the booster seat she was fast outgrowing. “What did Miss Devyn say while you were talking to her?”
Good grief.
