Chapter 9
Everyone hadlessons to learn in life. That’s what Anthony took from his conversation with Kira. Perhaps what they’d learned so far would help them develop a healthy relationship. There was no telling if things between them would progress as he hoped, but even if they didn’t, Anthony wanted to help Kira succeed. Everyone deserves to feel good about what they offer the world, even if it was simply great food and a comfortable place to enjoy it. There was value in that. And there would be value in what Kira did too. Who knew? Perhaps maintaining the quality Angelo offered at Studio Clickwould be enough to—in Kira’s mind—restore the familyname.
The funny thing was, Anthony found himself wanting to hurry things along. Get to the part where they were steadily dating and thinking of marriage and … and being in a place where he felt certain Kira wasn’t going toleave.
He shook his head.What was it that had him so anxious to give away his heart? He recalled something Angelo said in response to that very question, the words coming back to him as if spoken from the angel himself:“You’ve got a whole lot of love to give, son, that’s all. Just watch that you don’t put it in the wrongplace.”
Anthony grabbed a couple of forks and worked at shredding the roast he’d prepared in the slow cooker. He nodded in satisfaction as the tender, aromatic meat separated easily beneath the tines. A glance at the clock said Kira would be there any minute, which was perfect; the au jus was ready, the fresh buns were sliced, and the sweet potato wedges were roasted toperfection.
He leaned a hip against the counter, his mind drifting back to their conversation that morning. Anthony hadn’t liked seeing Kira so upset, worried over the mishap with the pictures she’d taken. But like she said, it could’ve been worse. At least they’d just been testshots.
A sharp chime from the doorbell pierced through his thoughts. Anthony’s chest filled with a mixture of anticipation and terror. He rinsed his hands off, reached for a dish towel, and dried them on his way through the frontroom.
The doorknob was warm to the touch as he pulled it open, but the screen door handle felt like an ice rod. He pushed it open quickly, urging Kira into the warmth and closing the door behind her. “Whew,” he said, rubbing a hand over her back. “It’s colder than I thought outthere.”
Kira stood mere inches from him, her strawberry scent assuring him—in case seeing her wasn’t enough—that she was actually there, in his home. She lifted a glass bowl of something white and fluffy and grinned. “Candy bar salad,” she said. “It’s got fresh fruit in it, which means it’s a side, notdessert.”
Dang,he liked this girl. “It is now, is it?” He inspected the plastic-wrap-covered creation as he took the bowl from her and walked it to the table. When he spun back around, Kira was already removing hercoat.
Anthony stepped over in time to take it from her and hang it beside the wooden bench in theentryway.
“It’s nice in here,” she said, taking in the place as she slowly walked. “Oh …” She stopped in her tracks. “Forgot to take theseoff.”
“You don’t have to do that,” hesaid.
But she scurried back toward the bench just the same. “I don’t mind.” She plopped onto the bench and pried off the tall cowgirl boots she wore before adjusting a fluffy pair of pale pink socks on her feet. They matched the oversized sweatshirt that hung slightly off one delicateshoulder.
She toured the place a bit more, inspecting pictures on the mantel. There were only two. “So I can tell that this is you and your dad out front of the diner,” she said. “But who’s in this other one? The black-and-white?”
Anthony walked up behind her. “That’s my old man and his dad out front the Italian sub shop. They ran the place together before my dadmoved.”
Kira nodded, bringing her face closer to the pictures as her eyes narrowed. “The men in your family are handsome.” She flashed him a grin. “You’ve got goodgenes.”
Heat stirred low in his belly. “Thanks.”
Kira folded her arms over her chest and stepped toward the bookshelf. “Remind me … how did your dad die? Was it anaccident?”
“Lung cancer,actually.”
Kira’s face was buried in the bookshelf. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She spun around to look at him. “That must have beenawful.”
“Yeah.” Anthony cleared his throat, then shifted his eyes to the dinner table before the emotion kicked in. “Well, I hope you camehungry.”
She looked at him for a moment, seeming to acknowledge the topic diversion. “I am,” she said. “Starving, actually. And it smells amazing in here.” Kira stepped closer to him, bumped him in the arm with her shoulder. “I’ve never dated a guy who cancook.”
Anthony puffed up his chest and stretched an arm behind her back. “Well, get ready for the good life, baby, because I’m the best intown.”
She giggled. “Luckyme.”
After washing up at the sink, Kira helped take care of a few last-minute details like pan-frying the cut halves of ciabatta bread and dressing the salad. Soon they were seated in the dining area, food dished out, and conversation in full force: things like childhood memories, awkward first dates, and how they managed to get through those cruel adolescentyears.
As they finished up, Kira plopping a second scoop of candy bar salad onto her plate, Anthony settled the details for the diner photo shoot. “Between two to four o’clock is our least busy time of day. Will that work foryou?”
Kira nodded. “Sure. And I’m mainly shooting the members of your team? Waiters, busboys, owner …” She gave him awink.
“That’s what I imagined. You think that will begood?”
She looked hesitant for a blink, but then nodded. “Yes. I think it will be great, in fact. Oh!” she blurted, wiping a spot of cream off her upper lip. “I’ve got some exciting news for you. I almostforgot.”
