Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
JOE
Saturday, Day Two of the Summer Swap
Downtown Maple Falls held in all that simmering summer heat.
Two-story buildings lined the street, blocking the lake breeze, and the air hung thick with midwestern humidity.
The scent of sunscreen and fresh-cut grass mixed with sugar and coffee from the Maple Leaf Café.
A rare breeze tinkled wind chimes, but everyone around was already in short sleeves and sundresses.
“When you’re shooting for marketing, you have to think a little differently,” Joe said, lifting his camera and looking down Oak Way. “You need to sell the town. It’s not just a pretty picture.”
Krista shaded her eyes with her hand. “Sell it how?” The bell over an ice cream shop jingled, a kid squealed, and the scent of vanilla and waffle cones made her think of her grandma’s ice cream at the Hideaway and how fast summer could slip through your fingers if you didn’t taste it.
“Format first,” he said. “Elsie’s going to want a banner for the website, so we need some strong horizontal shots. Big, wide scenes that say ‘This is Maple Falls’ in one glance.”
“Like…a skyline,” she said. “But with fewer skyscrapers and more lemon bars.”
He smiled, quick and warm. “You got it. The inn, the lake, the main street. My editor will want the same. Magazines like a lot of smaller shots, too, to showcase different areas of town.”
Krista shifted her weight, the strap of her camera bag sliding against her shoulder, and her hip bumped lightly into his. He glanced at her and wondered if she felt as unsteady as he did.
“We should take some photos while we’re hiking on Monday, too,” she said. “Give her options.”
“Exactly.” He lowered the camera and looked at her.
“That spot where we met yesterday morning? It could make a great banner. Or any overlook with water and trees. Then we layer in close-ups of locals, storefronts, all the little details. Coffee cups, flowers, that dog bowl outside the bookshop. The stuff that makes people think, ‘I want to be there.’”
“Alright, now how do I make sure I don’t overexpose the photos?” Krista asked.
“That would be your ISO, and yes, I should’ve covered that before.”
He angled the camera so she could see the back display. “See this grid? You want the line right in the middle. That’s your sweet spot.”
Krista leaned closer, her chest brushing against his arm as she leaned in, not bothering to pull away. “Okay, so if my subject is in motion…”
“You’ll need the faster shutter speed so the image isn’t blurry. Usually, the cloudy or darker it is, the higher the ISO you’ll need, but yesterday was bright and sunny, and the ISO got bumped to 6400…”
Krista nodded. “Which let in too much light.”
“Exactly.” His eyes flicked to her. “You’re learning.”
“Okay. Let me see what I can do.” Krista walked down the sunlit street, camera strap around her neck.
Joe followed, normally so used to working alone. Yet with her, explaining light, angles, and composition felt…right. Better even. And when Krista tried again and got it right, that little spark on her face did something to his chest.
He liked letting her into his world. More than he ever would’ve guessed.
Of course, it helped that his “student” was balancing his camera in those maddening cutoff jean shorts she loved.
The soft V at her tank top neckline caught his eye, the glint of her thin necklace matching the gold hoops in her ears.
Her curls were yanked up into a ponytail, loose pieces escaping around her face. Even her hair couldn’t quite behave.
He told himself to focus.
“Okay,” he said, stepping in behind her to adjust the strap at her neck, fingers brushing her warm skin. “Think about what you want people to feel when they see this shot.”
What he didn’t say was how he felt, standing this close to her. How he liked seeing Maple Falls through her eyes.
“So, you’ve been…everywhere,” said Krista, breaking the tension. “Tell me more about the last few years. The highlight reel.”
He adjusted the strap of his camera bag. “Okay. Last year—I told you about Scotland. I did a piece on coastal towns that live and die by the weather. The light there is unreal. Moody one minute, holy the next.”
Krista’s eyes brightened. “Scotland sounds so dreamy. Was it all like…castles and mist and men in kilts?”
“Sometimes,” he said, and the corner of his mouth lifted. “Mostly it was rain and fishermen who could out-swear me. But yeah. Mist. Castles. A pub that served chips so good I considered moving in.”
She laughed .
“And before that,” he went on, “Portugal. A story on old tile makers. Prague…an assignment I didn’t deserve. And Iceland—once. Felt like I was standing at the edge of the world.”
Krista slowed, turning so she could see him. “Which one is the most memorable?”
“Now? This,” he said, and the word left his mouth before he’d planned it.
Krista blinked. “Maple Falls?”
“It’s not the biggest,” he said, as if that explained it. “But it’s…full. People here know each other and show up. You have festivals for every occasion, an inn that smells like cinnamon and a lakeside bar that feels like home. You can’t beat it.”
Krista’s mouth softened, blinking. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about this little town.”
He watched her line up another shot. “You act like your life is small.”
“It is,” she admitted. “Compared to yours. You’ve been to Iceland.”
Joe shook his head. “Iceland’s a place I visited. Maple Falls is a life.”
They moved down the sunlit street, Krista snapping photos of storefronts, flowers…and apparently, Mayor Bloomfield.
“You’re looking very summery today, Mayor.”
The older gentleman was wearing bright blue swim trunks with tiny hot pink flamingos on them, and an inner tube circled his waist. The look was topped off with flip-flops and a smear of sunscreen on his nose.
“Just thought I’d take a quick dip,” he announced. “Summer waits for no one!” He jabbed a finger toward the sky like he was delivering a proclamation. “Remember that!”
Then he waddled across the street toward the community park and public swimming beach.
“Your mayor is something else,” Joe said .
“He’s the best,” Krista replied.
They ended up at the town’s fountain, a three-tiered, bubbling centerpiece surrounded by benches and pots overflowing with petunias. Kids tossed pennies in the water.
“Quintessential Maple Falls, no?” Krista said.
She handed him the camera. “Show me how you’d shoot it.”
Before he could start, a spray of water hit his forearm. Krista flicked it at him again, grinning.
“Careful,” he said, shielding his camera.
“Ah, but we had so much fun the last time you got wet,” she said, eyes sparkling.
“Pretty sure you got even more wet that time,” he said, voice low and rough.
Her grin turned wicked. Another tiny splash of water dotted his shirt.
“Krista,” he warned, trying not to laugh. “I’m serious. If you drown my camera, it’ll be bad news for both of us.”
“Relax, Valerio.” She took a step closer, water droplets glinting on her fingers. “I’m just having a bit of fun.”
Then she stepped closer, and before his brain could catch up, she lifted up onto her toes and kissed him.
She was decisive, warm, and a little reckless. Her hand curled into the front of his shirt, damp fingers cool against his chest. He kissed her back, one hand sliding to her hip, thumb brushing the soft curve just above her shorts. She tasted like lemonade and honey.
Until a voice snapped them apart, Krista’s lips inches from his. Both breathing harder than the brief kiss strictly warranted.
“Oh my.” Mrs. Humphrey stood on the sidewalk by the square, clutching a to-go cup from the Maple Leaf Café, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Well,” she said, fanning herself with a napkin. “I was just out for my morning coffee; I wasn’t expecting front row seats to the Maple Falls summer romance of the year! ”
Krista groaned. “Hi, Mrs. Humphrey.”
“You carry on…swapping…to your hearts’ content, dears. But I did catch where those hands were going. Perhaps you need somewhere a little more private than the town square, hmm? Now, I’ve got a very important public announcement to make!”
“Please don’t,” Krista said.
“Oh don’t worry, dear. We’re all cheering for you,” Mrs. Humphrey amended. “And it’s about time the town got the full story.”
She bustled off toward the bookstore, humming.
Krista buried her face briefly in Joe’s shoulder. “We are never going to hear the end of this.”
He laughed, still a little dazed, still feeling her fingers fisted in his shirt. “On the bright side,” he said, “that’ll help with Elsie’s engagement…”
Krista swatted his chest but didn’t step away. “Don’t even joke about turning whatever this is between us into…content.”
He lowered his forehead to hers. “Oh, if we did pictures that way, it wouldn’t be for Elsie,” he said. “I was thinking…you’re my favorite thing to photograph.”
Her breath snagged. “Oh yeah?” she murmured.
“I would love to do a whole shoot. Just you. For me. Sunlight and shadow, bare skin. Nothing between you and the lens.”
Krista’s blush bloomed down her neck. “Nothing? I’ve never done anything like that. Like…ever.”
Joe’s thumb traced along her jaw. “It’s just for me, Queen Bee.”
Her pulse jumped under his hand, and he felt the flutter of it, delicate and fast.
“I can picture it,” he said, his voice dipping lower. “You’re standing in front of the window in the late afternoon. The light’s hitting you just right, golden and soft. You’ve just slipped off your sweater, and you’re wearing nothing but your little black lace panties.”
Krista’s eyes widened.
“You’re looking back at me, kind of shy, kind of turned on.
I’m holding the camera but all I want to do is drop it and come kiss you.
And then you uncross your arms,” he continued, softer now.
“Let me see everything. Your body, your perfect curves. The camera captures that look in your eyes. The one that says you want me.”
A smile curved across her lips, equal parts nervous and bold.
“Okay,” she said, voice husky but controlled. “Now let me tell you what I see.”
Joe’s pulse was kicking hard in his throat.
“You’re standing in my apartment,” she continued, gaze locking onto his as she stepped closer.
“It’s late. You’ve been working all day—sunburned, sweaty, probably grumpy—but still stupidly hot in your ruined-shirt, wild-hair kind of way.
I tell you to sit,” she added, her voice just shy of a whisper.
“So you do. On my couch. Legs wide, arms draped across the back. Like you own the place. Like you own me.”
His breath left him in a slow exhale.
“I drop to my knees,” she went on, smile wicked. “Right between yours. And I slide my hands up those thighs. Slowly.”
Joe reached for her then. He couldn’t help it, but she dodged just enough to stay out of reach, delight dancing in her eyes.
“See?” she said sweetly, backing away a step. “You’re not the only one with a vivid imagination.”
His voice was wrecked. “What are you doing to me?”
Krista just winked, tossed her hair over one shoulder, and sauntered off down the sidewalk like she hadn’t just brought him to his knees.
Joe watched her go, jaw clenched, body aching, his hands still curled in midair.
That fantasy?
It wasn’t going to stay one much longer.