Chapter 5
FIVE
KRISTA
Wednesday, Two Days Before the Summer Swap
“Alright, now it’s time for your next lesson. Then we can go to the Hideaway for that espresso,” Joe said, buckling his seat belt as morning sun continued to climb in the sky, raising the temperature with it. It was definitely a ride with the windows down type of morning.
Krista glanced at him as she started the truck. “Just tell me where I’m going, cowboy.”
“Downtown,” he replied, his voice low and sure. “I want to find some locals who’ll let us photograph them.”
Krista tried not to stare as he settled back in the seat beside her. Joe had a calm, capable kind of presence. Broad shoulders under a faded gray T-shirt. His dark hair curled a little at the ends, and when the sunlight hit his jaw, she caught the faintest hint of stubble.
He was as unfairly hot in the daylight as he had been last night, and not just at the Hideaway. Oh no, she dreamed about him last night, as she knew she would. You didn’t meet a man like Joe Valerio and have a peaceful night’s sleep .
But in her dream, they weren’t at the Hideaway, they were in his tent under the stars, just the two of them in the dark.
It had started softly with her curled against him, his hand resting warm on her stomach, keeping her close.
Skin against skin, steady breath, and the slow, possessive weight of him behind her.
Then his fingers shifted, just a little—a teasing glide along her hip.
Dream Krista pressed back into him, feeling the hard line of him through the thin fabric. She took his hand in hers and guided it lower—near where she was already slick and aching. Her thighs parted, breath catching as his fingers traced the seam of her shorts.
When his fingers finally found her, Krista tipped her head back, a moan slipping free. Every movement was slow and deliberate. Her thighs widened, her breath growing shallow as he tested and teased.
Heat built low and sharp, tightening until it threatened to explode with just one more stroke, one deeper kiss, one rougher press?—
She jolted awake.
Her heart raced. Her skin was on fire. The empty space beside her felt like an insult, her body still thrumming.
Now all that heat came rushing back with the memory, and she swallowed hard, forcing her hands steady on the wheel. Then she steered out of the campground. Focus. Photography lesson. “Oh, I’m sure we will. The people of Maple Falls never say no to being part of the fun.”
He smiled at that, once again doing ridiculous things to her pulse—ridiculous things she may or may not have confessed to her sister, Robyn. She called last night to ask how Cocktail Club had gone, and Krista had drunk just enough tequila to be honest.
But she’d also promised Robyn she’d be careful not to let her heart carry away her head. They’d have a bit of fun on this Summer Swap, but that was it. Soon enough, Joe would be gone and life would go on as normal.
The road curved along the lakeshore, sunlight flickering through a canopy of green. The water shimmered beyond the trees, flashes of blue between the leaves. Wildflowers crowded the ditches: purple lupine, Queen Anne’s lace, bursts of golden black-eyed Susans swaying in the warm breeze.
She tried not to be intimidated by the camera gear piled in her back seat.
Lenses, straps, little pouches of mysterious tools.
The only camera she ever used was the one on her phone, and even then, only for business and not as much as she probably should.
Elsie was the one who lived for selfies and town-page updates; Cassidy’s chocolate posts always looked like they were straight out of a magazine; and Zoe could make a single rose look like art.
Krista’s photos had gone viral once—the Hot Honey Margarita craze—but that was because of her buzzworthy creation, not her photography skill.
Krista turned toward downtown, and sunlight spilled through the windshield.
Maple Falls in summer always felt like a postcard.
Hanging baskets overflowed with petunias and trailing ivy.
Flowerbeds burst with hydrangeas in shades of pink and blue, and tall ornamental grasses swayed in the breeze.
Everything shimmered beneath the warm light.
In another two months, the colors would fade to gold and russet, pumpkins replacing petunias, but for now, the world was bold and bright.
She sneaked another glance at Joe. His hand rested easily on his knee and something about the quiet way he watched the world outside made her stomach flip.
Joe motioned toward a parking spot in front of the Cinnamon Spice Inn. “Park here. We’ll start with one camera and two lenses.”
Krista eased the truck into place, taking in the porch lined with red geraniums and climbing ivy. White rocking chairs sat in a row, bright cushions tossed carelessly across them .
“Ahoy there!” Mayor Bloomfield said as they got out of the truck.
She looked up to see the mayor crossing the street, waving as if he were greeting old friends. He wore a navy sport coat with shiny gold buttons, white slacks, and a sailor’s cap perched proudly on his head.
“Morning, Mayor,” Krista called. “Have you met Joe Valerio yet?”
The mayor pumped Joe’s hand with gusto. “Not officially, but my niece’s been talking about you nonstop. Elsie says this Summer Swap of yours is the best thing to happen to Maple Falls since we got the new espresso machine at the Hideaway.”
Joe smiled, shaking his hand. “That good, huh?”
“That good,” the mayor said, grin as wide as the lake. “This town loves its coffee. Now I don’t want to keep you; just wanted to give you an official Maple Falls welcome. If there’s anything I can do to help, you just let me know!”
“Thanks, Mayor,” she said warmly. “We’ll keep that in mind.”
With a friendly salute, he strolled back across the street, humming something that sounded suspiciously like a sea shanty.
Krista laughed under her breath. “Gotta love the mayor.”
Joe followed her gaze toward the storefronts across the street. The mayor was heading into the Pumpkin Pie Bakery.
“If you have a sweet tooth, I can’t recommend the bakery enough.
The owner, Emily, is currently on a much-needed summer holiday, but her staff can make her sugar cookies almost as perfect as she can.
” At that moment, she spotted Mrs. Bishop and Mrs. C.
, peering out the bakery’s front window like a pair of curious birds.
“It seems we’ve already attracted an audience,” said Krista.
Joe laughed at the two women pretending to drink their coffee while very obviously staring at him. When Mrs. Bishop realized she’d been spotted, she gave a little wave.
Krista groaned, burying her face in her hands. “They’re relentless.”
Mrs. C. lifted her phone, pretending to take a picture of the pastry display but angling it straight at them. Joe chuckled under his breath. “Guess that’s my first paparazzi experience in Maple Falls.”
“Welcome to small-town fame,” Krista said, shaking her head, though she couldn’t contain her laughter. “Come on. Let’s go before they come out here and start quizzing us.”
They’d only made it a few steps down the sidewalk when Krista spotted Tyler and his daughter, Emma, stepping out of the bookshop.
It wasn’t long ago that he was the new guy in town.
How the single dad had avoided the town’s matchmaking ways was beyond Krista.
Maybe Mrs. C. was simply waiting until he least expected it to spring a blind date on him.
Emma’s arms were stacked high with picture books and paperbacks, her hair in perfect pigtails, her lemon-yellow sundress as bright as the sunshine. Tyler took the door from behind her, tall and easy in a fitted tee. His sandy hair was tousled, and when he looked up, his eyes were warm and inviting.
“Krista,” he said, shifting the stack in Emma’s arms before it toppled. “I heard about your big swap. How’s it going so far?”
Krista looked at Joe. “So far, so good. What do you say?”
“No complaints here,” Joe replied.
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.”