Henodded.
She lifted a hand, traced over the main headstone with the tip of her finger. “Want to tell me aboutthis?”
Anthony glanced down at it. “I was having a hard time saying goodbye to my mom, you know? Like, accepting that she might never come back. As a kid I had a therapist tell me, and my pops too, that we should have a service for her, as if she’d died or something. And the odd truth is, shecould’vebeen dead, for all we knew. How could we have known, if she insisted on living outside civilization? Neither one of us could ever really do it, though, you know? Cuz we kept on hoping that maybe she’d … I don’t know, she got sick of being in places after a couple years, it seemed. It made sense to assume she’d get sick of island living and come backsometime.
“Anyway,” he said, nodding toward their lane before walking over to it. He set the ball she’d picked out on the stand. “Once I was eighteen, I decided it was time to stop hoping for that. I told myself that she was probably dead in the literal sense. Shehadto be to stay away so long. So if you look closely, you’ll see the headstone has three M’s on it. Stands formy mother Maria.It might seem odd to have this tattooed on my arm when I don’t even know whether she’s dead or alive, but … it doesn’t represent putting the deceased to rest. Just my expectations of ever seeing heragain.”
“Wow,” Kira managed. “It’s so tragic that she’s missed out on your whole life. If she’s alive somewhere, I’m sure she’s drowning inregret.”
Anthony smeared a palm over his forehead. “Who knows?” He glanced over his shoulder, the action pulling Kira from her reverie. “Let’s get started. Shallwe?”
Kira nodded, realizing they’d gotten caught up in the same topic twice now. And she had yet to reveal much about herself. Hopefully she could avoid doing so for while longer. “Yep,” she said. “Let’s dothis.”
* * *
The parking lotat Duckdale’s Bowling Center had cleared out since they’d arrived. Anthony hadn’t planned to stay so long. It had just happened. And now, after three games of bowling, countless pinball rounds at the arcade, and a couple of stale churros, they were back in the cab of histruck.
As Anthony roared up the engine, Kira flicked down the visor and reached into her purse. He watched as she pulled out a tube of ChapStick and spread it over her full, pouty lips. She blotted them together before shooting him a grin. “Wantsome?”
Why did it feel like she was asking something other than what she’d asked? “Sure.”
She looked at him pointedly, plopped the ChapStick back into her bag, and leaned across the seat until they were face-to-face. Anthony’s pulse hammered, the chaos of it nearly as loud as the explosion of pins in thelane.
She grabbed a handful of his shirt like she’d done by the pond so many years ago, and pressed her lips to his. Only this was not the hurried kiss she’d planted on him before. This was a slow, sensual taste of something he was sure to want more of until the day hedied.
She pulled back, tilted her head as she caught his gaze. “Is that good? Do you have enough?” She rubbed her lipstogether.
ChapStick. She was talking about ChapStick. Anthony shook his head, slipped a hand up the back of Kira’s neck. “Not yet,” he mumbled, moving in for her kiss once more. Fire roared in his belly, hotter than the engine as itrevved.
Not too far,he reminded himself; Angelo Moretti would have his head if he moved in too quickly on his granddaughter. The thought was enough to pull him out of his daze and end things with one lastkiss.
Kira looked at him, her brown eyes smoldering in the lowlight.
Anthony rubbed his lips together. “Think that’ll have to do fornow.”
A smile stretched across her face. One that unraveled every rational line of thought he had. She sighed, scooted back to her side of the truck, and clicked her buckle. “Ready,” shesaid.
Ready?Oh, that meant he should pull out of the lot and steer them back to Cobble Creek. A part of his brain must’ve caught on, because soon he was nodding and putting the truck intogear.
“I forgot to ask about those girls,” Kira said as he pulled onto the street. “What did they say to you when you were picking a ball out forme?”
Anthony would have to focus very hard if he wanted to pull his mind off that warm, delicious mouth of hers. He put his thoughts back on the alley, recalling the pair who’d approached him after they’d arrived. “Oh, they were just …” He paused, chuckled, then puffed out his chest. “They wanted a little instruction on their game. Wondered if I’d come over and personally coach them on theirtechniques.”
Kira laughed. “You’re kidding. From where I was standing, they looked like they’d barely graduated from highschool.”
He nodded. “Yeah, they looked young to me too. Maybe that’s why I had to go fix things on the scorecard. Can’t have anyone thinking I’m a mereboy. Or that I’d be interested in anything less than awoman.”
“Hmm …” She nodded, turned to look out the window. “So what did you tellthem?”
“I explained that I was alreadyinstructingsomeone for thenight.”
She laughed. “Too bad I whooped you two out ofthree.”
“An instructor,” he said with a grin, “always lets his student have a taste of victory before the day isdone.”
Kira slapped his arm. “Well, I had two tastes ofit.”
Anthony stopped at the red light, let his gaze fall to her lips. “So did I.” Was it just the streetlight, or did his insinuation make her blush? It made her smile in the least ofit.
