Our Finest Hour (The Time #1)(37)

My heart beats faster. Bad things happen when conversations begin this way.

“I know you like living with your dad, but I was thinking maybe we could talk about one day giving Claire a home that both her parents live in.”

I balk. “We—”

“Barely know each other.”

“We're—”

“Practically strangers.”

I fall quiet, miffed. We've caught up with Claire. She's leaning against the railing, her chin resting on her right hand. I hang back, taking a seat on one of the benches. Isaac sits next to me.

A giraffe strides across the expanse of grass. My eyes track its movements, but my mind is going haywire. “Why did you ask if you already knew my arguments?"

Isaac leans forward, elbows coming to rest on his knees. “Because you don't know mine.”

“What are they?” The question has only been out of my mouth for three seconds and I already regret asking. I don't think I want to know.

He flicks his gaze over his left shoulder, so his eyes are on me. I don’t like the determination I see in them. “We could get to know each other better. You've already been to my place. You know what it looks like. You've been to where I work. We've shared a meal. You know I don't like spinach."

I can't help but smile at that part. At the restaurant last week, he'd asked the server to leave the spinach off his sandwich, and when it came with spinach, he meticulously picked off every last piece.

“I know you don't like flowers." Isaac continues.

“I like flowers.” I eye the large pink hibiscus blooms on a nearby bush.

“You don't like dates showing up with them.”

I nod slowly. “Right." He remembered.

“Aubrey,” he says, and the way he says my name makes me tear my eyes from Claire, who's peering through the metal telescope to the giraffes at the far side of the exhibit. “I’m trying to do what's right in an anything but typical situation."

“And you think moving in together is what's right?” I'm trying to understand his line of logic. Because it definitely wasn't mine.

“Yes. You'll have your own room, of course.” He shakes his head. “I didn't mean to suggest something else. If that's what you're thinking.”

“It wasn’t.” My words rush out. “I’m so surprised that I wasn't thinking much of anything.”

Isaac stands, stuffing his hands inside his pockets. “I just wanted to put it out there. We don't have to talk about it again today.”

Claire comes back to us, jumping like she's on a pogo stick. I’d like Isaac to put on his doctor cap and remind her she has a broken arm. Instead he laughs at her.

“Claire, please be careful. Your arm.”

“Yes, Mommy. Flamingoes next!” She pivots, heading for the next exhibit.

“Her arm is safe inside that cast.”

I throw a couple daggers at Isaac with my eyes. I’m not sure if it’s for thinking I’m overprotective or for knowing me well enough to know how I was feeling. “I just want her to be careful.”

“She's not doing anything careless. I've seen way worse, Aubrey. On a child even younger than her.” He studies Claire for a moment before breaking into a jog.

He has a nice run. Graceful. Rhythmic.

When he catches up to her, he picks her up by the waist and twirls her around. She laughs and leans her head back, so trusting that the person who has her will never let her fall.

I walk slowly, catching up to Claire and Isaac at the flamingoes. They're both standing on one foot, imitating the smelly pink birds.

“You too,” Claire points at me.

I stifle a groan and lift a foot off the ground. I'm not a silly person or a funny person. I never have been. But for Claire?

Anything for Claire.

“You know you want it…” The growl comes from low in Isaac’s throat.

“OK, fine.” I grin ruefully at the person behind the counter. “Brownie ice cream blast with chocolate sauce and sprinkles.” I turn to Isaac. “Are you happy? I got the biggest, messiest thing on the menu.”

“I’m ecstatic.” He looks at the person waiting for him to order. “I'll pass. I think my friend here will be needing some help with hers.”

I make a face. “Who said I'm sharing?”

“Sharing is caring, Mommy.” Claire's eyebrows draw together as she gives me her serious look.

“You're right. I'll share.”

“You don't want a time-out, do you?” She wags her pointer finger at me. Isaac laughs so hard he has to turn away.

“Nope, I don't. No time-outs for this mommy.” I pick up Claire so she can see them making our order. Isaac goes to the register to pay.

“Thanks,” I say when we're settled at a table outside. Soon it will be too hot to eat outdoors, but right now it’s perfect.

“You’re welcome. I owed you some ice cream.” He winks at me and takes a big bite.

My cheeks heat like someone just lit them on fire. And Isaac doesn't miss it. His eyes tell me everything his mouth doesn't say.

As hard as it is, I tear my eyes from his. “Claire, what was your favorite part of today?”