Anthony eyed the wall of clocks in the diner, guessing he had another hour before Kira showed up for her morning coffee. Heat stirred low in his belly at the mere thought of her. He was falling fast, but it was hard not to; Kira was fascinating. And she’d really blown him away yesterday. Shown him exactly why Angelo had willed Studio Click to her.

Anthony hated to admit it, even to himself, but it had been a relief. The woman really did have a natural gift. And beyond that, she had a great business sense. He hadn’t expected her to put on a presentation of the images she’d shot. Heck, she even had framing bids from three different companies, each complete with special non-glare glass so the bright lights wouldn’t obstruct the view of each portrait. Talk about going the extra mile.

He glanced over the old photos along the diner walls. He liked the posters of vintage cars, drive-in theaters, and the old-fashioned couple sharing a milkshake, but it was time for a facelift. Anthony could hardly wait for the frames to come in so he could get Kira’s photographs in place.

The door chime rang, drawing Anthony’s eyes to the front of the store. He expected to see Chuck and Don shuffling in, arguing over whose joints and back pain were worse. Instead, a brown-eyed angel stepped inside. Slender, yet curvy in her fitted jeans and a sweater, hair pulled into a bun that put his to shame. He watched as she scanned the place before her eyes fixed on him. She smiled, but something was off.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as she rushed over.

Kira clutched a barstool and dragged it back a few inches. She climbed onto the stool, plopped an elbow on the counter, and sank her face into her hand, eyes closed. A strand of wayward hair bouncing as the vents kicked on overhead. “I knew I would mess this up.”

The wall of clocks ticked behind her. A noise Anthony almost never heard during business hours. Yet it seemed her statement had caused everything else to stop in its tracks. The Tanners’ baby went from pouting to mute. Connie and the staff from CC’s Salon had been chuckling seconds ago, laughter loud enough to fill the room. But all of it stopped as Anthony took in Kira’s comment. The kind of thing he’d expect to hear from someone who could walk away with their hands in the air, declaring that things never went their way. They gave it a go, the old college try, failed, and now they were packing up and hitting the road.

Kira pulled her hand from her face. Her eyes flicked open. Wide at first, but then they narrowed. “Is everything okay?” she asked. The concern he saw in her expression said he’d left his poker face at home.

He shook his head. “No. I mean, I’m the one who should be asking that question.” Anthony had always been able to detect a lie with ease. There were things that changed in the person’s face after they’d spoken it. An odd tightness in the brow. The shift in their posture. Even the feigned sincerity on their face moments before as they plotted the structure of their words. He figured that’s why he was such a terrible liar himself. He could sense every tendency to do those very things as something less than true worked its way toward his lips.

He gulped as Kira searched his face, hoping she couldn’t see hints of the upset happening within him. If what he and Kira had was the meager starts of a promising fortress, it was already crumbling in his mind.

“What …” He shook his head, gulped, and dropped his gaze to a row of spotless glasses beneath the bar’s ledge. “You said you messed things up. How?” His heartbeat moved to his face in hot, frantic thumps as he waited.

“I got a call from my mom this morning, who said Gramps’s lawyer called her and asked for my email address. He’d sent me a few things and, when he didn’t get a response, feared maybe he had the wrong one.”

Anthony glanced up at her. “Okay,” he encouraged.

She tilted her head. “Mind if I get a cup of coffee?”

He straightened up, working to pull out of the premature meltdown. “Of course.” Anthony snatched a clean mug and filled it with the dark, aromatic brew. Perhaps he should’ve stuck with decaf that morning; his heart was still racing hard. He set the steaming mug down before her and slid the cream and sugar packets her way, already knowing exactly what she’d use: two packets of raw sugar and one small cup of plain cream.

Kira tore open the first packet of sugar and poured.

“So did he have the wrong email address? His lawyer?”

The next packet of sugar went in before she peeled back the foil lid of the cream. “No, I just … had no idea he’d be trying to communicate with me by email. I hate email. It’s just not something I’m used to having on my radar, you know?”

Anthony shook his head in irritation. “Would you just tell me what’s going on?”

Kira looked up from her coffee, eyes wide.

A tap came to his shoulder. “Just checked the inventory,” Howie said. “The only thing that didn’t come in with this morning’s order were pickle chips. I already called and let them know.”

Anthony glanced back. “Thanks, Howie.”

Kira caught his gaze. She didn’t have to ask; her eyes said it all. What in the world is wrong with you this morning?

“Sorry,” Anthony mumbled. “I just … if something’s wrong, I want to help you. And if I’m going to help you, I might need to shift some things around with my crew for the day.”

True, but that wasn’t the reason he was acting crazy. He was acting crazy because he was terrified that—as promising as things between them were—it was all about to end. It felt like she was taking her first steps toward that ominous white flag. The one every woman in his life seemed destined to wave.

“Well, it turns out that the duplex wasn’t paid off through April; it was only paid off to April, meaning the payment was due a few days ago. There’s a grace period, so I don’t technically have a late penalty yet, but the concern was that I hadn’t even registered an online account, which is how I’m supposed to pay, so …” She shrugged, seeming to relax slightly, and brought the mug to her lips.

“We need to get your place rented out.”

She nodded behind the mug.

“And that car sold.”

Another nod.

This was something Anthony could work with. His shoulders lifted. “What have you done to advertise the rental?”

“Just stuck a yard sign in the grass. But I was thinking that I could post a few flyers on the telephone poles along the street.”

Anthony shook his head, containing a chuckle in his throat. “Don’t do that. We had a big issue come up with Trent when he came into town—the sheriff. We can’t staple anything to those poles.”

“Oh, that reminds me! I’m supposed to shoot baby pictures of the sheriff’s daughter today at eleven. I can’t forget that.”

“No, you won’t.” He wouldn’t let her. “Is the rental ready for someone to move in?”

Kira shrugged. “I haven’t been inside yet.”

Anthony felt his eyes widen.

“Don’t judge me,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve had a million things going on. And in my defense, I thought I had until May to worry about payments. I’ve been focusing on the studio.”

Anthony wiped the judgment off his face in a flash and glanced at the clocks once more. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We have a little less than five hours before your sitting. I’ll let Howie take over for me. I’ll grab a few supplies from the shed and meet you at your place. We’ll make a list of what needs to be done. You can tell Jessie and Trent—when they show up at the studio—about the availability; they have great connections and can help spread the word. And by that point, we should know how close we are to having it ready.” There. He felt a thousand pounds lighter suddenly.

“Really?” Kira asked through a teary-eyed grin.

“Of course,” he assured. “We’ve got this.” Lingering false-alarm chemicals streamed through his system, attempting to further disrupt the peace that was already seeping into him; it would work. Catastrophe avoided. There’d been nothing to panic about after all. What he feared most was Kira having a change of heart. But late payments, finding tenants, and fixing up rentals? Those things Anthony could fix just fine.

He hated that he’d been so quick to crumble. Perhaps he would get better at this having-a-little-faith thing as time went on. He could only hope. After all, if he and Kira were going to make things work, they’d likely face a few bumps in the road.