Emma’s gaze landed on Joe and immediately sharpened with eight-year-old curiosity. “Are you famous?”
Joe blinked. “Not even a little bit.”
Emma nodded solemnly like she was filing that away. “I’m Emma. I like books and ice cream and when my dad lets me stay up late.”
Tyler snorted. “Which is never.”
“Which is sometimes,” Emma corrected, unbothered.
“Tyler, you haven’t met Joe yet, have you? Joe Valerio,” Krista said.
Tyler offered his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Joe shook it. “Likewise.”
Krista added, “Tyler’s a book editor.”
“And a bookseller,” Tyler said, jerking his thumb back toward the shop. “Although I sell more books to my daughter than anyone else.”
Emma lifted her stack higher like it was evidence. “Books are the best.”
Joe’s mouth curved. “Hard to argue with that.”
They fell into step together, the four of them moving down the sidewalk like a small parade. Maple Falls was doing its morning thing with its sun-warmed sidewalks, window displays with little handwritten signs, and the lazy drift of conversation from café tables all blending together. A wind chime clinked somewhere, and the lake breeze carried sugar and something buttery from the bakery down the block.
The conversation shifted to work—about the fantasy series Tyler was editing and about what it was like being a travel journalist for Joe.
“What’s your favorite place you’ve been?” Emma asked, craning her neck to look up at Joe like she was interviewing him for a school project.
Joe seemed to consider it seriously. “That’s a hard question.”
Emma’s face scrunched. “You’re allowed more than one.”
Tyler laughed. “She’s very generous with rules.”
“Alright. I liked Lisbon. And Prague. And this little fishing town in Scotland where it rained sideways for three days straight.”
Emma’s eyes went huge. “Sideways?”
“It was the craziest thing,” Joe confirmed. “And I’d go back in a heartbeat.”
“I want to go too.” Emma looked up at Tyler. “Dad, can we go to Scotland?”
Tyler didn’t even hesitate. “Maybe someday, sweet pea. But not today.”
“I knew you were going to say that.” Emma pouted.
Tyler shook his head, then glanced back at Krista. “We’re heading to the pet store to get some treats for Mochi.”
“You should see her. She’s getting so big!” Emma added, referring to the kitten they’d adopted from Zoe’s cat’s litter this spring.
“Little rascal that she is,” Tyler added.
“From talking with Zoe, it sounds like they all are,” Krista added with a smile. Zoe had kept one of the kittens her cat, Whiskers, had had in the spring. The little troublemaker regularly tore up her flower shop—unwinding ribbon by the spoolful and generally making a mess of everything.
“Come with us!” Emma offered enthusiastically.
“Afraid we can’t. We have work to do,” Krista said, motioning to the camera bag.
