My Favorite Souvenir(36)

I smiled. “Thank you.”

While I snapped pictures, Milo must’ve been doing some thinking.

“What does your living room look like?” he asked.

I finished shooting and lowered my lens. “The usual—a couch, love seat, coffee table, area rug, and sixty-eight framed photos of smiles on the wall.”

Milo chuckled. “You have sixty-eight framed photos of smiles?”

“I do.”

“Not whole faces? Just smiles?”

“Yup. They’re all black and white, and I cropped in on the smiles. Each one is framed in matte black.”

“Who do the smiles belong to?”

I shrugged. “All different people. Some adults, some kids. Mostly people I don’t know. I honestly don’t even remember what the rest of the face looks like on some of them. I took them over the last fifteen years at various places.”

“Do you have a favorite?”

“I do, actually.” I laughed. “How did you know that?”

Milo flashed a crooked smile. “Just a hunch. What’s it look like? Your favorite smile, I mean.”

“It’s a little girl I shot while on assignment years ago. I was covering a Jonas Brothers concert, during the first time they were popular. She must’ve been about five or six. When the concert started and the three brothers walked out on stage, she started to cry. She was really sobbing, yet she had the biggest smile on her face. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but her smile was big enough to count all of her little teeth. I’ve never been so happy I cried like that, and I find the photo inspirational.” She sighed. “What about you? Have you ever cried and smiled at the same time?”

We started walking again, and Milo shook his head. “Not that I can recall. What else is in your living room? Do you have any family pictures on display?”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

“Growing up,” he said, “my parents always had a ton of family photos hanging on the wall.”

“We didn’t have any. Oddly enough—since I’m a photographer—my parents weren’t big on taking photos. And they definitely didn’t decorate any of the places we rented. The house I’m in now is the first place I’ve ever lived that has any sort of personality.”

“So, let me get this straight.” Milo rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb. “I grew up with family photos all over the place, and my walls are now bare because I don’t feel like where I am is permanent. And you, on the other hand, grew up with empty walls and have plastered your place with photos for the first time in your life. We were definitely in pretty different places a few months ago, huh?”

I smiled sadly. “I guess so.”

Milo stopped walking. “Hold up for a minute. Get your camera back out.”

I looked around while unzipping my bag. We were still in the pretty Garden District, but I wasn’t sure what, in particular, I was supposed to be taking a picture of. “What am I photographing?”

Milo dragged a hand through his hair and stood taller. “Me.”

I laughed. “You?”

“Yeah. I want to be on your wall.”

I lifted my camera, still chuckling. “Okay, crazy man. Smile pretty.”

He held up a hand up. “Wait. Give me a few seconds. I want to think of something good so you capture the right smile.”

Milo looked away for a moment. Then he turned back and flashed the sexiest damn grin I’d ever seen. “I’m ready now.”

“Do I even want to know what you’re thinking about with that devilish smile?”

“Probably not. But I’ll tell you what, in ninety days, I’ll show you what I was thinking about.”

Oh my.

I snapped more pictures than necessary, glad to hide my blush behind the camera. “All done.”

Milo winked. “That’s number sixty-nine.”

I laughed. “I do currently have sixty-eight photos hanging, so I guess you’re correct.”

He leaned down and kissed my cheek, then moved his mouth to my ear. “Wasn’t talking about the number of photos on your wall. That’s what I was thinking about when I smiled for your photo.”





Chapter 12




* * *



Matteo



I must be out of my damn mind.

Maddie walked out from the bedroom wearing a bright green dress. It didn’t have a plunging neckline or almost show the cheeks of her ass, yet it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. She looked Drop. Dead. Gorgeous.

Why did I keep telling this woman having sex wouldn’t be a good idea? At the moment, I was thinking there had never been a more brilliant plan in the world.

I shook my head and blew out an audible, jagged breath. “You look...that dress… Wow, Mads, just wow.”

She looked down, as if she had to remember what she had on. “Oh. Thank you.”

“You ready? We should probably get going.” Because a man only has so much willpower.

She picked up her purse. “I am. I’m excited to watch you sing. When we were up on stage together, it was kind of surreal, and I didn’t get to enjoy your performance fully. How many songs do you get to do?”

“Usually it’s three songs or fifteen minutes, whichever comes first. But I didn’t ask the rules when I signed up this morning, so I’m not actually sure.”