“Remember, you promised not to say anything to him.”
“Cross my heart. Will you let me read your book?”
He groaned. “I never should have said anything about it. I really am as bad as Yolanda.”
“No, because I’m the one asking you. And I warn you, Dylan, I can be very persistent.”
“Are you this persistent when you’re representing your clients’ work?”
“Worse. Editors know they might as well hear my pitch because I’m not going to go away unheard.”
“You sound like the sort of agent a writer would want on his side.”
“I am. So let me read your work.”
“What if you hate it?”
“Then I’ll tell you so. I’ll be tactful but honest,” she said with a smile.
He considered it a moment, then shrugged. “Maybe. But if Gideon finds out, all hell will break loose.”
“I don’t know why. You aren’t writing just to annoy him, are you?”
“Of course not. I didn’t even know he wanted to write until he published his first book a few years back. I was living in another state then. Darn, it griped my hide that I liked it.”
She laughed. “You two are ridiculous, you know that? Just because you dated his sister a long time ago is no reason two very nice men with similar interests can’t be friends now.”
The smile in Dylan’s eyes dimmed then. “There was a bit more to it than that.”
There still was more to it, Adrienne realized suddenly, reading something in his expression that he probably would have liked to keep hidden. She would bet that Dylan still had feelings for Deborah McCloud, no matter how much time had passed since their breakup.
Or was she overromanticizing again—as Gideon had accused her of trying to do to his book?
Carrying a small stuffed bear, Gideon reappeared at that moment with Isabelle beside him. Isabelle had a shamrock painted on her cheek, a green helium-filled balloon tied to one wrist and a cone of green-tinted cotton candy in her other hand. She dimpled. “Hi, Officer Smith. Do you want a bite?”
He glanced at the rather noxiously colored spun sugar with a slight shudder, though he managed a smile. “No, thank you, Isabelle. I’d better be moving along.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Gideon muttered.
Just to make Gideon mad—Adrienne had no doubt that was the reason—Dylan leaned over to brush a friendly kiss against her cheek. “See you later, Adrienne.”
He sauntered away whistling, sounding quite pleased with his exit.
Gideon was practically quivering with outrage when he took Dylan’s place on the bench beside Adrienne. “That guy’s really starting to tick me off.”
She knew better than to smile, though she felt compelled to say, “I like him.”
“I like him, too,” Isabelle offered, climbing comfortably onto Gideon’s knee to eat her cotton candy. Her face was already dotted with sticky bits of green fluff.
Pushing the floating green balloon out of his face, Gideon continued to glare at Adrienne. “Did he ask you out again?”
“No, he did not.”
“Then why was he hanging around?”
“We were just talking.”
“I think Gideon’s jealous,” Isabelle commented without looking away from her sticky treat.