Burning for You Page 7

  “Yeah, I’m here.” More muffled noise, and then as if the phone was away from his ear, “Yes, I will. Just let me finish this call.” She could tell he wasn’t talking to her. A few more seconds of silence and he was back. “Sorry about that.”

  Taylor frowned. “Are you at work?”

  “No. Nephew’s birthday party. He’s four.” A pause and then, “Hey! Stop that. I’m on the phone.”

  She again heard muffled noise. Clearly, Joe didn’t have the phone to his ear. “Joe?” She waited. “Joe?”

  “What? Yeah. Sorry. My nieces and nephews don’t understand that you can’t hit a man with a squirt gun when he’s on the phone. I should be good now.” She heard him exhale a breath. “Maybe not. Can I call you back? I … Hey!”

  Taylor held her phone out, watched the call timer increase by a second. Then another. Then another. He hadn’t ended the call. “Hello?” A female voice came through this time. “Taylor?”

  “Yes. This is Taylor.”

  “Oh, you’re there. Good. This is Judy. Judy Marino, Joe’s mom. You’re the photographer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wonderful. I absolutely love this idea. I can’t wait to meet you.” Her enthusiasm came through loud and clear, and Taylor warmed to her immediately.

  “Me either. Joe and I were just about to schedule—”

  “I’ll let you two work out those details, but before we do this, I want to meet you beforehand. In fact, you should probably meet all of us. See what you’re getting into. Have you eaten?”

  “A small sandwich and some cookies at my mother’s.” She’d slept until noon, for it’d been hard to sleep after her shift ended. First, she hadn’t known how to leave things. After she’d told him she’d do his book, they’d lingered until they’d finished their coffees. Then she’d driven him back to the lot near Presley’s, where they’d stood outside her car for a few awkward seconds. Did she hug him? He settled for grabbing her hand and giving it another firm shake.

  “A few cookies is not a meal,” Judy said. “You need protein. Where are you?”

  As if proving Judy’s point, Taylor’s stomach rumbled. “I’m at home.” She realized belatedly what Judy meant. “Richmond Heights.”

  “Perfect. We’ve taken over a huge picnic area just outside the zoo. You know those tables on the hill between the Living World entrance and the Art Museum? We’re right there. Look for all the Captain America balloons.”

  “I …” Had Joe’s mother just invited her over?

  “No need to bring anything,” Judy continued. “We have more than enough food. See you in a few. But don’t rush. Be safe. Oh, here’s Joe.”

  Within a few seconds, he returned to the line. “Hey. I overheard. So are you coming?”

  “Can I say no?”

  He chuckled, and she smiled despite herself. “I warned you my mother is a force of nature.”

  “I’m not sure ‘warn’ was the word.”

  “You don’t need to come, but it will give you a great opportunity to look us over and decide how the family photo session is going to work. We’re all here, and there are a lot of us. It’ll also give us a chance to talk.”

  “I was going to process images from last night and …” She glanced at the microwave clock. Almost four. She could spare an hour or two if she burned the midnight oil later. Luckily, she was off Monday.

  “So, are you coming? We’re grilling pork steaks and there’s a very special chocolate birthday cake for dessert.”

  She shouldn’t. She had so much work to do. His rich voice chuckled, as if sensing her inner turmoil. “Don’t be chicken. We don’t bite.”

  “Fine,” she bit out, strangely not bothered by being coerced into her decision.

  “We’re literally in the area across from the zoo parking lot. You can’t miss us. See you soon.”

  And with that, the call ended, the timer stopping. Taylor glanced at her red and white striped T-shirt and jean shorts. While the day wasn’t boiling, it was hot enough that any makeup would simply melt off. She gave her hair a cursory glance, the St. Louis humidity having frizzed out her blonde curls. She tamed them into a ponytail using a hairband. Then she thrust her calendar back into her purse, shoved her feet into some sandals, and grabbed her camera. She turned her AC down and locked the door behind her before she second-guessed herself and did exactly what he expected—chickened out.

  * * *

  She arrived fifteen minutes later. He hadn’t expected her quite so fast, even with his mother telling him that Taylor lived in Richmond Heights, which was practically around the corner. He’d also expected her to call back with some excuse and cancel.

  But there was her black Cobalt inching along, and he found himself happily surprised. A small anticipatory jolt shook him, and from his slightly uphill vantage point, he saw her craning her neck as she searched for them. Luckily someone was leaving, so she parked on the street instead of using the zoo lot.

  He’d started walking once he’d seen her, so he was waiting a few feet away when she opened the door. For a moment, the door acted as a shield between them, hiding the part of him that had gone rock hard, because, after Taylor exited she immediately reached back inside, her shorts inching up and her bottom high in the air as she grabbed her camera bag and her purse off the passenger seat. He tightened his fingers on the metal frame in a futile effort to resist the urge to touch. He also mentally recited the Pledge of Allegiance.

  She turned to face him, her eyes hidden by wide sunglasses that added seductive mystery. Her hair was up, revealing that long neck he’d first noticed the day of the calendar shoot. He’d found her attractive then, but he’d simply teased her. He’d gotten to know her last night after they’d gone to the hospital. Now, as she swung her camera bag over her shoulder, he realized that maybe he wasn’t quite as in control as he thought.

  “Can’t believe I got this great parking spot,” she said in greeting.

  “I know. Glad you could make it. We’re over here.” They walked side by side up the hill to an area of picnic tables. He liked how easily she kept pace. He was starting to like everything about her.

  “Your mom wasn’t kidding about the balloons. You’ve got all of the Avengers here.”

  He hadn’t paid much attention. “Ben’s only four, so I don’t think my brother’s let him see any of the movies. But he likes the cartoons.”

  “There’s nothing better than cartoons,” Taylor replied, easing into step beside him. She’d seen him coming toward her as she’d driven up, and her breath had hitched. He wore a white polo, jeans, and brown boat shoes, and the combination simply worked. She’d been glad her sunglasses had hidden her widening eyes, and that she’d remembered to close her mouth so she hadn’t been gaping. The man was gorgeous, and her heart raced every time he was near.

  A tall, dark-haired woman approached, holding out her arms in greeting. “You must be Taylor! I’m Judy, Joe’s mom.” She drew Taylor in for a hug, then gave her a kiss on both cheeks. “You are just adorable. Come meet the family. Joe, get her something from the cooler. I can’t believe you’re still standing there. Where are your manners?”

  He appeared sheepish. “Soda? Beer?”

  After last night, Taylor wanted her wits about her. “A Sprite? 7-Up?”

  “We have one of those, I’m sure.” Joe went off to find her a beverage while Judy took Taylor’s arm and led her over to an area where a group of adults sat.

  “I’m so glad Joe thought of doing this,” Judy confided as they walked. She pointed. “That’s my mother over there, and she’s seventy-five. My dad would have been eighty last year, God rest his soul. We should have done these photos yearly while he was alive, but you never think of these things until it’s too late, do you? You just think you’ll have more time. This is Nana, my husband’s mother. Well, Clara, but it’s Nana to everyone, including you.”

  “Hello,” Taylor said, as she met Joe’s Nana. Then Judy drew her away, and Taylor met so many people, s
he was grateful she had trained her memory long ago so that she could keep track of them all, at least somewhat.

  Joe hadn’t exaggerated his family’s size: three grandparents still living; two parents; six siblings, three of whom were married; seven nieces and nephews. And that wasn’t even counting all the aunts, uncles, and cousins present.

  “Is it always like this?” she asked Joe as he brought her a can of Sprite.

  “What?”

  “So many people?”

  “Oh, a lot of them are still at the zoo. They’ll be headed over now that it’s about to close. You haven’t seen anything yet. Overwhelmed?” He gestured to a set of folding lawn chairs and indicated that she should sit. She dropped into the one with the red Cardinals logo on the back.

  “Not overwhelmed. More absorbing everything. I’ve shot weddings before. Compared to some, your family will be a piece of cake.”

  “Even with all the kids?”

  “Well, once a groom and his best man got into a throwdown right before the vows. The father of the bride literally had to pull them apart.”

  “That sounds like a crazy time.”

  “Pretty much. To this day I still don’t know the reason, and the groom said his ‘I do’ with a bloody lip. By the reception all was well again and the two were all hugs and smiles.”

  “Well, we’re just a big blue-collar Italian family. We see each other a lot and everyone shows up. There’s always some birthday or something, and if I’m not at the station, I’m here.”

  She liked how family-oriented he was. That commitment was one of the things that had swayed her to say yes. “My parents were both only children, as were their parents,” Taylor said. “We’ve always done things on a small scale. Minute actually.”

  “That’s a shame. I hope it means you and your sister are close.”

  “Close enough,” Taylor said. “But she’s always busy with her husband’s family.”

  “Uh-oh.” Joe glanced over Taylor’s shoulder. “Here comes my mom. Italians are big on feeding people. Get ready.”

  Judy handed Taylor a blue plastic plate covered with chips, cheese sauce, and salsa. “Don’t want your stomach grumbling. Marvin’s about done grilling, so when everyone gets back we’ll eat.”

  “Oh, I’m fine, thanks …” Taylor began but Judy had already moved off after shoving the plate into her hand.

  Joe grinned and gestured to the plate. “Be warned. My mother’s a member of the ‘you must be starving’ club. She’ll feed you whether you want it or not.”

  “I am a little hungry,” Taylor admitted, dipping a chip into the cooling queso. “As I’m on a budget, I’m all about free food.”

  He laughed, brought the beer can to mouth. She averted her eyes as if searching. Safer than watching those luscious lips. “Is your sister here? I don’t remember meeting Susie.”

  “She’s at the zoo with Winnie and the birthday boy. She’ll be over soon and I’ll introduce you then. That’s why you haven’t seen her or most of the kids. You like kids?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” She hedged. She knew very little about kids, having never really babysat either. “I do a lot of childhood environmental portraits, you know the ones taken outside instead of against a fake backdrop? Parents want more than just that shot you get at the start of the school year.”

  He stole a tortilla chip from her plate, scooped up some cheese. “So what do you envision for my family?”

  “What were you thinking?”

  He laughed and covered his mouth quickly as he still had food inside. He swallowed. “A question. I almost forgot your bad habit.”

  “It’s not about my vision. It’s about yours,” she protested. “While I’ll help you, you need to decide how many combinations you want, or if you want the pictures inside or outside. I can do formal poses or informal or—” She handed him the plate and reached for the camera bag. “Let me show you.”

  “The first lesson?”

  She smiled. “Perhaps, if you’re good.”

  “I’m always very good.” The corner of his lips tilted upward.

  “I bet you are,” Taylor murmured to herself, safely hidden behind her camera. She pushed her sunglasses up on her head. A light breeze blew. Under the trees, the summer day was actually very nice, the extreme heat rampant earlier in the week having lessened slightly, at least in the shade. She peered through the viewfinder, surveying the scene, then made some adjustments and pressed the shutter. After about ten shots, she held out the camera so Joe could check her work.

  “They’re nothing fancy,” she said, as he scanned through the shots.

  “Perhaps not, but you have the right touch,” he said. “They’re good.”

  His praise made her face color. She averted her gaze, lest he see. “Now it’s your turn. Here, let me show you a few things.”

  She stood and moved behind him. If she thought she’d be safer there, she was wrong. Being this close meant she inhaled the woodsy scent of wholesome, virile male, making her body jump to attention. She reached over his shoulder, her arm skimming his polo as she laced the camera strap over his neck. He craned his neck, facing her, his lips mere inches from hers. All she had to do was lower her mouth. One, two, three and …

  She froze, resisted the urge. Her command came out a rasp. “Turn off review mode.”

  He did.

  She’d taught many people how to take photos, but none had made her body wanton. She … had … to … focus. Concentrate on the steps she knew so well. “Look through the viewfinder.”

  He moved the camera in front of his right eye. She saw Nana in conversation with his mother. She put her hands gently on his head, right above his ears, feeling the silky strands she’d been dreaming about as she guided him to face his first subject. She resisted the urge to weave her fingers deeper, draw his head back, and kiss him from behind.

  Thankfully her voice worked, even though it squeaked once. “Now, adjust the lens. One thing you want to do is think of a tic-tac-toe board. Put the center of visual interest in one of the places the lines intersect.”

  He moved his left hand to the lens, keeping the camera and shutter button balanced with his right. “No, too far.” She put her hand on his, moved the lens to where she wanted it, and ignored the shock of awareness that touching him caused. “This setting is better. It should blur out the background, give you a shallow depth of field.”

  “It does.”

  She lifted her hand, the heat immediately leaving. However, she rubbed her hands together to dull the sensitivity. He depressed the shutter halfway to focus. “That’s great,” he said, giving an appreciative whistle as he made the shot.

  “You whistling at me, boy?”

  “No, Nana,” Joe called. “Although you are lovely today as always.”

  “Flatterer. Behave yourself over there.” Nana shook her head, went back to her conversation. Then Joe lowered the camera so he could see the image on the viewing screen. Taylor still stood behind him, and he swiveled in the lawn chair so he could hold out the camera, strap still around his neck.

  “See how it fills the frame and gets rid of the junk in the background?” Taylor asked.

  “Yes. I’ve wanted to know how to do that. Thanks for your help.”

  “I’m not sure how much you know,” she admitted.

  “Only what I’ve figured out by reading online. I’m not very good using the manual mode, and the auto mode focuses on everything all the way back.”

  “It does, which is why manual’s all I shoot. You could also try the aperture priority mode.”

  “I know the button, but not how to use it. Teach me?” He shot her a hopeful look. His lips parted.

  She stammered, “Uh … you’ll teach yourself. I’ll be your coach. It’s included in the portrait fee I quoted.”

  “Deal.” He winked and she flushed. She liked his smile far too much.

  “Let’s try a few more, shall we?” She moved around to the side and reached for his hand, then a
fraid to touch him again, she gestured instead. He stood, camera strap secure on his neck and device fitted squarely in his hand. He towered over her. “How about you capture your dad grilling?” she suggested, body hyperaware.

  “Okay.”

  They stopped about ten feet from where Joe’s dad worked over a large metal grill that stood about waist high. He looked up and grinned at them, and then turned his attention back to basting the pork steaks and turning the hot dogs. Because the charcoal grill rested on a round metal pipe secured in a concrete pad, they could see some of his Bermuda shorts, his bare legs, and flip-flop-covered feet. His “Kiss the Cook” apron was stained with barbeque sauce splotches and hid most of his faded fire department T-shirt and shorts.

  “How should you hold the camera?” Taylor asked.

  “Vertical shot,” Joe said, seeking Taylor’s confirmation.

  “That’s what I’d do. I like how he’s in flip-flops. Adds contrast.”

  Joe turned the camera sideways, gazed through the viewfinder. Adjusted the lens. Then passed the camera to Taylor, their fingers touching for a brief second. “Are those settings right?

  She glanced through them and handed back the SLR. Again, his fingers lingered on hers, caressing the tops of her knuckles. “Yes, try that.” She swallowed the start of a hiccup, her body’s annoying outlet for nerves. For he did make her nervous, in that heightened, quivering sort of anticipatory way that indicated high attraction.

  “Be sure you get my good side,” his dad called. Busy squirting water on a flame after some barbeque sauce dropped onto the hot coals, he didn’t even glance up.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Joe called, squatting low. His head was even with her waist, meaning his mouth was even with her … She stepped backward, checking that erotic thought. The long dry spell post-Owen was coming back to haunt her at the most inopportune time.

  He shot several frames, and then made a minor adjustment before taking more. He straightened when finished and passed the camera over. He leaned over her shoulder, his scent again filling her senses, and she found it hard to concentrate. She scrolled through the previews. “There are some keepers in here. You have potential.”