“Sounds good to me.” Anthony meant that. The fact that she was thinking so far ahead told him she really did plan to stick around. Make a life for herself there. Contribute to the town in a fun and unique way. He hoped she had a talent for taking photos, like her granddad. Creativity was always appreciated, but it couldn’t replace the quality Cobble Creek had come to expect from Studio Click.
Stop worrying about it, he scolded himself. Angelo always said that Kira got her eye for photography from him. And leaving his studio to her proved that it wasn’t just talk; the last thing he’d want to do is set Kira up to fail.
“Man,” Kira said. “I totally overate. It was too good to stop. You’ve got to show me how to cook a roast like that.”
He grinned. “Or I can just have you over for dinner again the next time you’re craving it.”
“That works too.” She held his gaze, allowing that magic of hers to seep into him once more.
Already, he was dreading the goodbye. Wondering if she’d come into the diner for coffee the next morning. Fifteen minutes of Kira each day could cure the lonely in his life like a drug. But he wanted more than fifteen minutes.
“Favorite things,” Kira blurted. “Let’s list some. You start.”
Anthony looked at her for a moment while his brain played catch-up. “Favorite things?”
She grinned. “Yes. Candy bar salad. There—I started us off. Your turn.”
“Mango cheesecake,” he blurted.
“Fluffy socks.”
“Cowboy boots.”
Kira tipped her head back. “Good one. They look good on you too. Um …” She looked around the room as if it might help, but then darted her gaze back to him, her expression turning serious. “Cold. Pillows.” She put emphasis on each word.
“Ah, I like that too,” he said.
“You do?” Her eyes went wide.
Anthony grinned, a small laugh creeping up his throat. “It’s the best.”
“Well, then, today’s your lucky day. Is your freezer clean?”
“What?”
“Your freezer,” Kira said, coming to a stand. “Is it clean?”
Anthony stood as well and joined her as she walked toward his industrial-style freezer/fridge. “As someone who owns a food establishment, the answer to that is always yes. Force of habit.”
“Perfect.” She hunched down and pulled it open. “Wow. It is clean. Spotless.” She spun in place. “Go get your pillow.”
He chuckled under his breath. “It’s going in the freezer, huh?”
Kira lifted her brows and grinned.
“All right, then.” Anthony tipped his head, motioning that she should come with him. “This way.”
Kira looped an arm through his as they strode down the hallway. “This house is bigger than it looks from the outside. It’s really nice.”
“Thanks.” He flicked on the light as they stepped into his rather plain bedroom. Anthony’s version of making the bed was more of a yank-the-top-blanket-over-the-pillows deal. Luckily he’d just done laundry; there’d be no stray tee shirt or sports shorts toppling off the corner hamper and onto the floor. He snatched the pillow and handed it over. “Here you go.”
Kira brought it against her chest, hugging it as they strode back into the kitchen. “Smells like you. Do you have parchment paper?”
“Of course.” He retrieved it for her, then watched as she placed a large sheet under the pillow and slid it onto a spacious rack.
“Best. Sleep. Ever,” she promised.
He nodded, quietly entertained by it all. But the truth was, he wasn’t ready for sleep just yet. He hoped she wasn’t either. “Want to see how the Redrocks are playing?” he asked, glancing at the mounted TV.
One corner of her lip quirked.
Anthony cleared his throat. “Or we could watch a chick flick. I have enough channels in this place; I’m sure you could have your pick.”
“No,” Kira said. “I like baseball.” She strode past him and into the front room, where the big screen hung. “The chick flick can wait for next time.”
Next time. Anthony repeated those wonderful words in his head as he joined her on the couch. Hopefully they’d have a whole lot of next times to look forward to.
Chapter 10
Holding hands wasn’t something Kira had thought much about before. But as Anthony walked her out to her car, not a cricket to be heard in the brisk night, she couldn’t pull her focus off the way his large, masculine hand cradled hers. He’d come out moments ago to start her car so it’d be “nice and toasty” when she got in. So sweet.
Anthony was tall and muscled and gorgeous to an unnerving degree, but that alone wouldn’t cause the fluttering swirl of her tummy as they neared her car. It had as much to do with the other things he offered. His non-physical traits. Patience, support, kindness. Along with a swagger any real rebel would envy. A cool guy who didn’t have to try—that was Anthony Marino.
A lamppost down the street hummed as he leaned his back against the car, the fringe of that light barely reaching them. Anthony secured her other hand in his as Kira faced him.
“Thanks again for dinner tonight,” she said. “Next time I’ll cook. Or buy, depending on how brave I feel.”
He smiled, his gaze dropping to their joined hands. She’d been the one to move in to kiss him after they’d gone bowling. And while Kira had enjoyed taking him by surprise as she had in planting that kiss on him, she liked even more the way he’d responded to it. Leaning in and taking charge. Would he do that again tonight, or simply offer a small peck on her cheek as he’d done after walking her to the door? The tummy twirls picked up in anticipation, moved up in ripples as her breath hitched.
Anthony wrapped his strong arms around her and pulled her in, warm against his chest. Out here in the cold, she could smell hints of fresh laundry on him, along with the tempting scent of aftershave or cologne, she wasn’t sure which. She only knew it smelled spicy and masculine and wonderful.
The tip of his nose nuzzled into her neck, just below her ear. Cool and smooth and alluring. His heated breath came next, moved along her chin up to her lips, where he toyed with her, his mouth grazing over the small peaks of her top lip in a slow tease.
Kira had never been the patient type, but the anticipation coursing through her was a thrill all its own. She resisted the urge to lean in or take more, allowed the sensation to linger and swell.
At last he moved a strong hand up the back of her neck and pressed his mouth to hers in a long, glorious kiss. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss as a whimper sounded from her throat.
Whoa. Chemistry—check. There was nothing lacking in that department. Kira sighed, Anthony’s mouth weaving some sort of magic over her in a series of lingering, passionate kisses.
At last he pulled back slightly, hesitantly. “Good night,” he rasped.
Kira stayed in place, relishing in the heat of his mouth just centimeters from hers.
He pressed another soft kiss to her lips. “Are you coming into the diner for coffee in the morning?”
She forced her eyes open, tipped her head back, and scrutinized him in the low light. Those dark, dreamy eyes could unravel her if she let them. “Should I?”
“If you want to, yes.”
“Then yes. Yours is better than mine. Plus I get to watch you in action. It’s hot.” She chuckled since it was a funny thing to say, but it was a true statement; Anthony ran that diner like an Italian boss. Charm, grit, and good looks all rolled into one.
He opened the car door for her, and a wave of heat pulled her in. “Enjoy your cold pillow tonight,” she said.
He grinned wide enough for his dimple to show. “You too, Kira.”
He stood on the sidewalk, arms crossed over his muscular chest as she drove away. The sight of him in the rearview did tingly things to her insides. Perhaps this was the beginning of something real and lasting.
A stubborn voice from her past prodded and nudged at her mind, working to b
e heard once again. You’re not the type of person who can stay put. It’s only a matter of time before you mess this one up.
Kira gripped her left hand tighter around the leather steering wheel and reached for the radio with the other. With one quick tap, the loud bass of a familiar song pounded through the speakers. She might like classical music to help her concentrate at work, but in the car, Kira enjoyed alternative rock. Luckily, it was just loud enough to quiet the beast once more.
Chapter 11
Anthony eyed the array of clocks on the diner wall—a half dozen pieces featuring things like an old-time Pepsi logo, a glass bottle of Coke, and a specially made clock that read Tony’s Diner. In just a few minutes, Kira would arrive.
“Hey, Anthony,” came Trent from his spot at the bar. “Is your lady coming in today?”
“Yeah, is she?” Benny asked, lips puckered as he blew on his coffee. “And if so, why don’t you fill us in on what’s happening between you two before she gets here.”
“Hey, hey, now, I’m not supposed to be doing any kissing and telling. You guys know that.”
“Yeah, but we’re not gonna tell no one,” Benny said.
“Speak for yourself. Jessie and Darcy have been asking all about it,” Trent admitted in a hush. “I told Jessie I’d get the details.”
Anthony dunked a fresh dishcloth into a mound of hot suds and squeezed it out. “Oh, so that’s why you guys stuck around for a third cup of coffee.”
“Actually,” Trent said, “Abby kept me up half the night. I told Jessie I’d trade shifts with her, but man … I had no idea it’d be so tiring.”
“That’s babies for you,” Benny said with a laugh. “You’ll get used to it.” He leaned over the counter next, hushing his voice. “Jessie and Darcy were here Thursday afternoon having their book club, and Darcy said she spied you and Kira kissing by the kitchen when she was heading to the ladies’ room. Explains why you’ve been missing boys’ night …”
The kitchen? But then it came to him—he had kissed her there right after she’d finished the shoot. It was short and sweet, just a stolen kiss he hoped no one had seen. Anthony wiped the smooth surface down with the hot cloth, moving it closer to where the old men sat. He leaned in, glancing around the diner before speaking up. “I don’t really know what’s happening between us yet. I like her, she likes me back, from what I can tell, but we haven’t made anything official yet.”
The men wore smiles that might look more fitting on boys in middle school. Wide, satisfied, and mischievous.
Benny nudged Trent. “Told you something was happening.”
Trent rolled his eyes. “She gets coffee here every morning, Ben, of course something’s happening.”
“How would you know?”
“A good sheriff knows what’s happening in his precinct,” Trent bragged.
Anthony couldn’t help but smile. He only hoped his close friends would remain in Cobble Creek with him. One day they’d all be like Chuck and Don, having a little guy time while the ladies did their thing. Anthony could see it now, the entire group—Steger brothers and all—sitting at the corner booth. Seth and Jon would gripe about how—after their sons took over Steger Construction—they changed up the logo on the marquee after all these years. Anthony would nod and grumble about how his sons wanted to change the colors of the booths, like he’d done a few years back, upsetting his own father in the process.
“Pssst!” someone hissed from behind.
Anthony glanced over his shoulder to see Kira peeking her head through the swinging doors to the kitchen. He lifted a finger, glad she’d come in through the back. No need to be featured in Cobble Creek’s gossip sessions just yet. Trent and Benny were caught up in a round of laughter as Anthony snuck off.
Once in the kitchen, the hiss sounded again, this time from the short hallway leading to his office. He glanced down in time to see Kira disappear through the open doorway. Anthony followed her inside, only to be greeted with a display he hadn’t expected. An array of easels stood along the back office wall. The tall ones rested directly on the floor, while shorter easels balanced on two high stools and a side table.
“Hello, Mr. Marino,” Kira said, reaching out to shake his hand. She wore the same business-looking suit he’d seen her in when she came to the diner in search of volunteers. “I took the liberty of enlarging select images from our shoot here in the diner. Please keep in mind these are merely a dozen of my favorites, but you’ll have the opportunity to scan over the entire selection if you’d like.”
Anthony straightened his shoulders, playing along with the business pretense. “Very well, then,” he said with a stiff nod.
Kira tilted her head, an amused grin lifting the apples of her cheeks. She stepped over to a massive, flat case that leaned against his desk on the floor; it was too big to fit anywhere else. She pulled a stack of poster-sized boards from the bag, moved to the far easel, and displayed the first image: a close-up of Jeff as he leaned over the bar with a grin. That smile. Kira had captured it perfectly. The almost-twenty-year-old kid had really proven himself over the years, showing that he could not only welcome the customers with a witty word, but run the diner in Anthony’s absence without a hitch.
“That’s a great picture,” he said, reverence coating his tone.
Kira set the next two in place and stepped aside. His cooks, Howie and Lance. She’d come in early for theirs, before the diner opened. She’d captured a picture of Howie—who was in charge of the fresh rolls—kneading the dough. In the next, Lance was busy at the cutting board, the angle catching a mountain of sliced carrots and celery for their soup of the day—chicken noodle.
“You really did a great job with these guys,” he said. “I like everything you got around them too. The wood grain of the cutting board, even. A bit of flour on Howie’s chin. It’s perfect.”
Similar words came to him as she displayed the next three enlargements. Only they weren’t employees; they were patrons.
“I know you wanted me to focus mainly on the employees, but while I was here, a few things caught my eye.” She pointed to the first photo, a close-up of a wide-eyed baby, mouth poised behind a spoonful of chocolate shake and whipped cream. “Maddie and Bear were here with their little one. They signed a release form saying that I could use these pictures to display here at the diner, in case you decided to use them. The others did the same.”
Anthony glanced at the other candid photos as she continued, “I thought that a fair portrayal of Tony’s Diner should include a few patrons, since that’s what it’s all about. People who’ve been coming for years, ordering their favorite shake, snack, or burger.”
Anthony took in the next picture, which featured the town’s book club. The large group of ladies had been meeting at Tony’s for years. In the photo, several of the women had their heads tipped back in what could only be called roaring laughter. Next was the small family that had stopped in on their way through town. They’d ordered a family-style meal; nearly one of everything lay scattered over the table.
“If you’re not in love with the patron pictures, that’s fine—” she started to say, but he couldn’t let her finish.
“I love them.”
“What?”
Anthony nodded, walked wordlessly toward the display, shaking his head in wonder. “You really do have your granddad’s gift, Kira.” He felt proud of her in that moment. He was beginning to really care for her. Wanted her to succeed. Not just selfishly, so she’d stay in Cobble Creek, though that was part of it. More than that, Anthony wanted the spectacular woman to know just how talented she was.
He heard a sniff before Kira cleared her throat. “You really think so?”
Anthony was surprised to see tears welling in Kira’s brown eyes. “Of course,” he said, extending his arms to either side. “Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her as she stepped into him.
“I guess it just feels good to hear,” she said. “From someone other than my family, I mean. Whe
never they compliment me, I feel like they’re just trying to get me to settle on something, so they just encourage whatever thing it is I’m pursuing at the time.”
Anthony tipped his head to the side. “Have you talked to them since moving here?”
She nodded. “A few times.”
“But they do encourage you?” He’d been under the impression, by the way she’d spoken about her family, that they weren’t encouraging at all.
Kira stepped back and ran a hand over her face. “It’s not that they don’t have nice things to say. They do. But I can tell—no matter how it comes out—that they expect me to drop out, give up, or outright fail.”
Anthony had the strong urge to challenge her perception, but how could he? He simply didn’t know enough yet. But there was one thing he did know. “It’s possible they’re not thinking that at all,” he said. “But either way, you don’t have to prove anything to them or anyone else. If you stay here and run the studio, you should do it because you’re happy here. Don’t you think?”
Kira nodded. “Yes.”
“Good,” he said. “Now let’s see the rest of these pictures. I love what you’ve done so far.”
Chapter 12
Kira stared up at the dark ceiling, a wide grin on her face, a cool pillow beneath her neck and head. In her mind, she drifted back to Anthony’s office, watching as he admired her work, complimented her talent, and mentioned how good she was at presentation—something that gave her short stint in advertising validity after all. The supposed detours in her life were finally starting to come together, each assisting her in different aspects of running the studio in Cobble Creek. As business picked up, she’d likely need to bring on some help with the digital side of things, since she spent more time working on the photos then taking them. Maybe one day she’d bring on a photography assistant, but for now, Kira was happy doing it on her own.
The Snapshot Bride Page 7
