Isla glanced around once more as she settled back, her fingers idly smoothing the napkin on her lap. The flute music was still going, impossibly soft but ever-present, and she squinted at the menu written mostly in cursive and herbs.
“So…” she began, arching an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you for a tree hugger.”
Nathan looked up from his menu, the corner of his mouth quirking into a grin. “Are you kidding? I love trees. They saved my life. What with the whole... making oxygen and stuff.”
She snorted, laughing before she could stop herself. A full, surprised sound that she hadn’t meant to give him so easily. But when her eyes met his, she saw how much he appreciated it—more than he probably should’ve. There was something soft in his gaze, something unguarded, and it made her chest do that an
