OLIVER’s POV
The moment we got into the car, Isla was all over the place—laughing, leaning against the window, then suddenly turning to me with a wide grin as if she had discovered the meaning of life. I glanced at her, torn between frustration and amusement. This wasn’t the Isla I knew, the usually composed, if not occasionally stubborn, woman I shared my life with. No, this Isla was completely uninhibited, giggly, and hyperactive. And strangely enough, it amused me.
“Driver,” I said, leaning forward, “take us to the nearest restaurant that serves tacos.”
Isla clapped her hands like a child who’d been promised candy. “Tacos!” she cheered, her voice louder than it needed to be.
I shook my head, unable to stop the corner of my lips from twitching upward. She sat back, bouncing slightly
