Animal Prints: Sweet Small Town Contemporary Romance (Michigan Moonlight Book 1) (9 page)

“Will you have to testify?”

“Probably; I have before. It’s one of the hazards of rescuing animals.”

“I’d like to see your place and, of course, meet the cast of characters. Maybe I could take some pictures for you?”

She nodded as she resumed eating. “I could do with some PR pictures. Heck, I don’t even have a website.”

“I know. I searched for you.”

“You did?” She laughed. “Could you make one for me? I’d pay you, of course, but I probably should have one. Maybe I should get a Facebook page as well.”

“I saw the clinic has one, but the rescue center doesn’t.”

“You did look around.” Her brows shot up in surprise, but she seemed pleased with his attention.

“Yep. I friended the clinic.”

“Whatever that means. My mother is the Facebook wizard.”

“So when can I come to your farm?” He persisted, but he wasn’t sure why anymore. He wanted to know more about her, everything about her, and he wanted to see what it was about this land that his father coveted.

“How about Saturday afternoon?”

“I’ll bring my arsenal of cameras.”

“How many do you own?”

“I use two different Canons for still pictures, and I’ll want some video for your website.”

“So what does a professional web designer charge?”

“I’m willing to negotiate a fair price with you. Kind of like on the island, we can work out an exchange of some kind,” he suggested and she glanced up at his face, seeking his meaning.

“What would be my half of the exchange?” She raised her eyebrows. “Do you want a pet?” She teased him.

“No, but you have something else I want.”
 

“Do I?” Her playful tone said she already knew what he wanted.
 

“I want a kiss, a real one…”

“One kiss?” She held up a finger. He took the opportunity to catch her hand and pulled her toward him in the round booth.
 

“For now.” He grinned at her, enjoying her nervousness for the moment.

“We’re in a restaurant, in public.” She looked around but no one seemed to notice them.

“Stop arguing and kiss me.” His fingers traced along her jaw softly, but resolutely enough to make her move her head toward his until their lips met. The kiss was brief, but sweet like the luscious tang of a cherry. “You see it’s not so terrible kissing me.”

“I never said it was, but…”

“What?”

“I have a history of disastrous relationships,” she confessed with a sigh. “My sister calls me a bum magnet.”

“Ah…I see.” When she started to pull away from him, he tightened his grip on her hand. “Not so fast.” His gaze stayed steady on her face. “Let me get this straight. The questions earlier were to make sure I wasn’t a bum.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
 

He sighed, kindly. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t want my sister to date a bum.”

“Do you have a sister?”

“No, I have a twin brother. He’s an attorney in Philadelphia. Beautiful house, sophisticated wife, and two semi-perfect children. He is definitely not a bum.”

“Identical twin?”

“Yep, except I don’t have the house, wife, and kids.”

“That’s good since I never asked if you were married.”

“I’m not.” He shoved her purse and shawl aside and slid closer to her on the seat until their thighs touched. His arm wrapped around her waist. The scent of her perfume, floral and light, surrounded him playing tricks on his senses. She closed her eyes, anticipating the kiss and he couldn’t wait any longer. He kept the kiss short, but when Ian dropped his hand from her waist and pulled back, she took in a shuddery breath.

“Let’s go for a walk along the bay after dinner,” he said after a moment. He glanced toward the light coming in the front windows of the restaurant, perfect for taking pictures, but he had a different form of perfection here in the booth.

“Let’s go now.” Her head was cocked to the side as though she were evaluating him.

“I thought you’d want dessert.”

“You can buy me ice cream in a little while.” She nodded toward the windows. “You want to go take pictures, don’t you?”

“Sorry. The light is amazing this time of year up here. I can’t get enough of it.” He signaled the waiter for their check. “I’m having a similar problem with something else.” He squeezed her arm then slid away when the waiter appeared.
 

After paying the bill, they walked into the summer night just a few minutes before sunset. Amber shadows already formed between the buildings, but up ahead in the park, the bright light silhouetted dark figures against the sand and water. Ian clicked open the trunk of his car as they came alongside it.

“Why do you look relieved?” Ian asked after retrieving a camera from the trunk.

“My sister’s other question was what kind of car you drove.” Colette shrugged. “I didn’t know.”

“You saw it in the parking lot when we got off the ferry.” He gave her a quizzical look, then turned his attention to the gadget in his hand.

“I didn’t notice.”

“You waved to me when I was standing by the car,” he said, making adjustments on the camera while he spoke.

“Right, I waved to
you
. I wasn’t looking at the car.”
 

“Should I be flattered or do you just lack interest in cars?” The camera in his hand ceased to hold his attention.

A nervous giggle escaped her. “I’m not a car person, but I think it’s safe for you to feel flattered.”

“If I didn’t want to capture the light on the beach so much, I’d show you just how flattered I am.” He slammed the trunk shut and grabbed her hand. “Come on.”

For the next half hour, he snapped pictures of the beach, the water, the lighthouse, kids on the swings, birds in the surf and air. Colette stayed out of range of his camera, but he captured her in a few shots. He glanced in her direction occasionally, feeling guilty about abandoning his date, but she seemed content watching him. .

When the last edge of the sun dipped below the water, he turned to her where she sat on a swing. “I make a lousy date when I have a camera in my hands,” he said in apology. “Can I buy you that ice cream now?”

“In a minute. I enjoyed watching you. Most people don’t work with such intensity.” She tipped her head again, appraising him, and chose her words carefully, “It’s like you
are
the camera. Every part of you takes the photo. It’s fascinating.”

He shrugged off her words, not wanting to talk about how much of his life was seen from behind the lens. “The light won’t last,” he said simply. “It has to be captured.”

“I think it’s more than that. What will you use these pictures for?”

“Some for the website for the Boyne resort. You know—showing what else is in the area, especially in the summer. I don’t know about the rest.” He scanned through pictures on the LCD screen as he spoke. “I like pictures of beautiful places and beautiful things.”

“What did you photograph in Iraq?” At her question, his lifted his head and focused on her face.

“Nothing beautiful.”

“Did you take pictures for the newspapers?”

“A few made it to the media, but most will never be seen.” He never wanted to see some of them again.

“Why?” She asked like she already knew the answer, already knew of the images of death, loneliness, and tragedy.

“They’re classified and…”
 

“And what?” She pried, but it was gentle and he couldn’t deny her the truth here.

He waited to answer for a minute, and when he did, he kept his voice low, “Most Americans sitting at home don’t want to know what the troops saw and did. They just want to know about success. They want glossy pictures in
Time Magazine
of confident-looking, geared up troops going into a combat zone, which they presumably came out of. Those are the pictures that the guys who work for the AP take. I took the other pictures. I took the pictures of the nineteen-year-old who was so scared his hands were shaking when he picked up his weapon. I took the video of the battles and I took pictures of the dead.” He dropped his head to study the images on the little screen in front of him, not seeing the beauty of the photos he’d just taken. Unwanted, the photos from two tours of duty flashed through his mind.

“Is that why you’re doing this book?” She stood up from the swing and moved toward him, offering him the comfort of her touch on his back and circling around him.

“Yeah. Those at home are never going to understand what it was like, but eventually we came home and that’s still in us. Only other veterans understand. I’m doing this to help them.”

“And yourself?” She rested her hands on his shoulders and rose on her toes. The light filtered between them and danced on her lips before she kissed him.

“I guess.” His arms went around her, the metal of the camera grazing her back. “Now, since I’ve bared my soul to you, you have to tell me something in exchange.”

“Okay, if I can.”

“How did you get the slit in your bottom lip?” His thumb rubbed over the mark on her lip.

“My mother assures me that most people don’t notice it.”

“Professional habit. I’m always aware of details, especially when they’re on something that interests me. What happened?”

She blushed a bit, the faint glow showing in the dimming light.” I got bit by a goat at a petting zoo when I was four.”

“No way.”

“Yes.”

“On the mouth?” His fingertips took a slow circuit of her lips, feeling each ripple and indentation.

“My dad says the goat wanted a kiss.”

“The goat didn’t turn into a prince, did he?” He teased her. “Should I be jealous?”

“I think only frogs can do that. I startled the poor guy, but I learned a valuable lesson that day.”

“What?”

“To be calm and patient with animals, especially the highly strung ones.”

“Is that how you can manage rescue animals?” His fingers feathered over her cheek before brushing hair back from her face. The last of the light was swallowed up by the night, leaving them in heavy shadows.

“Yep. Your intensity would frighten them.”
 

“Is that why Romeo avoided me at first?” he asked, not sure how to take her honesty.

“He’s skittish around everyone, but, yeah, you frightened him.”

“Do I frighten you?” Here was the key question for their relationship.

She hesitated before answering, making him hold his breath. “A little, but for different reasons.”

“Still afraid I’m a bum?”
 

“More like afraid you’re not one.” She wove her fingers through the hair on his neck and gave his head a slight tug down toward hers.

“I think I like that answer.” His words were lost against her lips.

After Ian walked Colette to her Jeep and gave her a lingering kiss goodbye, he drove out of Petoskey and onto the lonely road to Boyne. When he was with her, he didn’t feel like a hypocritical ass. He felt good, better than he ever had in his life. As soon as he was alone, the terrible game he was playing came back to haunt him. He glared into the lights of oncoming traffic. What the hell was he doing?