“Anything,” I said without missing a beat.
“That photo Leighton and I took with you earlier?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
“What would you say to doing a few more of those? Leighton had this idea to recreate old family photos for our parents and turn them into a calendar. And since you’re a photographer—”
“Yes.”
“We would pay you, of course.”
“Absolutely not.”
Her lashes blinked wildly. “But—”
“I’m happy to do it. Consider it penance for the leg.”
“I already told you that wasn’t necessary.” Something on my face must have told her that this conversation was a losing battle. “Okay, but at least let me pay for the finished prints.”
“Fine. Let me know when you pick out the pictures you want to recreate.”
“Fine.”
A few minutes later, after we set a date and time to go over ideas, I walked her back outside, waiting until she reached her front door before reaching for mine. Maybe it was overkill—this was a gated community, after all—but you never could be too careful.
“Hey,” she called out, just before I shut my door.
“Yes?”
“I don’t know about Mrs. Lyons, butIwouldn’t mind looking at some Christmas lights when the blinds are open.”
I tucked my hands into my pockets and rocked forward, smiling when her attention slipped below my waist. “I’ll consider it.”
Chapter Four
December 8th
Nellie
“What about the one on the slide?”
I swallowed my bite of scone and snatched the photo out of Leighton’s outstretched hand. Damn, we were cute.Still are.Judging by the butterfly clips and floral-print romper, she must have been eight or nine at the time, which would have made me four or five. That explained the stuffed Barney toy beside me in the sand.
“I’m crying.”
“So?” she asked without sparing a glance.
“So, I don’t want to recreate a photo where I’m crying.”
“You were always crying about something,” she mumbled under her breath. Not quietly enough. “On second thought, I don’t think I have anything to wear for that one, and you probably don’t have a purple dinosaur toy lying around, right?”
“Right.”
She tossed the photo into the pile of rejects. “Onto the next.”
“Sorry, am I paying you to work or look at family photos?”
We both turned toward the freckle-faced ginger poised beside the display case full of homemade cakes and cookies.
