Burke turned back to Izzy, softer now. “Sorry, I didn’t make it over last night. Got tied up on a case.”
Izzy waved it off. “You’re fine. I think we managed.”
Grant set his mug down. “Well, I’m not sorry you didn’t make it.”
Burke’s brow lifted.
Grant nodded toward Izzy. “She cooked. You missed out.”
Burke’s gaze flicked back to Izzy, taking in the picture again—sleep-warm, not quite put together, and very much not a casual stranger. “That right?”
Grant leaned back. “She might need to open an Italian place here in Sylva.”
Izzy laughed. “Let’s not get carried away.”
Grant didn’t look at her when he added, “That’d make one little gal I know real happy.”
Burke smiled at that. “Yeah. It would.”
Caitlin.
“She’ll hate anything that feels like a production,” Burke said.
“Exactly.”
Izzy reached for a notepad sitting on the counter and flipped it open. “It’s Wednesday. We’ve got a couple days. Guest list first—who do we absolutely need there?”
Burke leaned one shoulder against the counter across from her.
“Reid and Eleanor,” he said.
Izzy nodded, writing.
“Tessa and Scout,” he added.
“Luke and Sara,” Izzy said, already a step ahead.
Burke glanced at her, approving. “Yeah.”
Grant spoke from behind her.
“My parents,” he said. “Burton and Maggie.”
Izzy wrote it down.
“And Aunt Emma?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Grant said. “She’d never forgive us if we didn’t.”
Izzy smiled. “Noted.”
She looked up.
“And us,” she said lightly. “Which I assume is implied.”
Burke’s mouth moved again.
“Implied,” he said.
