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“So…?” I ask, wondering what he’s getting at. “And since when is she a server? I thought she was a hostess.”

He pushes open the glass library door and motions for me to go inside first. “I have something you’ll want to see.”

The smell of library books brings up memories of my high school years where I spent most of my time with my nose in a book instead of getting blackout drunk at parties with the other students. The librarian greets Tyler by name and gives me a polite hello. She’s unlike any librarian I’ve ever seen, probably because she’s about my age and covered in tattoos. Tyler takes me to the back of the building where the isles stop being shiny and the books smell more like stagnant mildew.

“In my freshman year of high school, they made everyone do a project on the History of Salt Gap. I was really into architecture so I chose to make this poster board documenting all the buildings in town, what year they were built, who designed them…stuff like that.”

“That’s cute,” I say.

He rolls his eyes as he grabs a rolling cart of old books and pulls it away from the wall, revealing a door. “It wasn’t that cute. My poster board making skills were less than stellar back then.”

“I’m sure you could make a really nice poster board now,” I say with an encouraging wink. “I mean, those wood floors in my house are proof that you’re a man who knows how to use his hands.”

I regret them the moment the words are out of my mouth. Tyler blushes and runs his hand over his face. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind next time I have to make a poster board.”

The awkwardness I’ve created hovers around Tyler and me, threatening to suffocate us until he opens the door that leads into a small storage closet. I cough at the musty air and follow him inside the room that glows from a single light bulb with a pull string.

Shelves of boxes and newspapers line the small four walls and a stack of filing cabinets fill the floor space, leaving very little room for us to maneuver around. Tyler finds the box he’s looking for and pulls it off the shelf. “Will you clear some space off that table?” he asks.

I swipe some newspapers to the side and he sets down the box. My interest is piqued when I read the words written across the lid: Salt Gap Diner. Chills prickle down my arms when he removes the lid.

Hundreds of black and white photographs stare up at me along with an old newspaper that Tyler pulls out and opens to the front page. I skim over the article quickly because all I want to do is look through the photos.

Salt Gap’s first diner would like you to be a part of history. “The citizens are what make our little town so great,” said Mayor Charles Largess, who is building the diner, set to open in March. “Therefore, we’re asking everyone to donate photographs of their favorite places and people in town. They will be preserved forever in the diner.”

“This is amazing.” My words are a whisper as I pick up the first photograph of a little girl holding a teddy bear on a swing set. The next one is of the same girl, but now she’s standing next to twin boys. I recognize the twins from a photo in the diner…these must be extras. “Grandpa donated his photo on purpose. It wasn’t an accident at all.”

“What wasn’t an accident?” Tyler’s voice makes me jump. He laughs. “Did you forget I was here?”

“A little bit,” I admit, tearing my eyes away from his gorgeous smile to pick up another handful of photos. I flip through each one, recognizing some of the people from other photos at the diner, and recognizing even more of the places around town. There’s a photo of the carnival grounds with an old banner made of fabric with painted-on lettering that advertises the Cockroach Festival.

The next picture makes me gasp. “It’s him.” Grandpa and his wife, standing next to that same old truck, only this time instead of smiling at the camera, my grandmother plants a kiss on Grandpa’s cheek. Tyler reaches into the box and takes out the next photo.

“There’s more.” He hands me a picture of a young Grandpa standing proudly on stage at the Cockroach Festival, holding a ribbon for first place in one hand and a cockroach in the other.

“I can’t believe it,” I say, running my finger down the black and white photograph. “He’s so handsome. I have all these memories of him being…well, old. It’s hard to imagine that he was young once.”

“And very much in love by the looks of these photos.” He holds out the next image and I take it from his fingers. My grandfather holds my grandmother with one hand around her back and one under her knees. Her arms wrap around his neck and they’re eyes are closed as they kiss. I hold it up to get a closer look.

Tyler squints his eyes at the back of the photo. “Too much in love, apparently,” he says, tapping the back. I turn it over and read the words hastily scribbled on the back: reject- too racy for family diner.

“I’m going to frame this.” I put it on top of the growing stack of pictures of my grandparents. Tyler brushes hair away from my eyes. He’s overstepping his boundaries with that brave movement, but I let it slide. He just discovered my past with me, and this is an intimate moment. “Thank you for this,” I whisper.

He swallows and clears his throat. “I guess not every member of the Carter family hates love.”

My eyes narrow as I look up at him. “I never said I hated love.”

His head cocks to the side. “You never said you liked it.”

“That’s because I don’t.” With an annoyed shake of my head, I put the lid on the box and bring it back to its place on the shelf in the corner of the room. I’ve kept all dozen photos of grandpa and can’t wait to show them to Miranda. This is not the time or place to talk about my liking or not liking of something as stupid as love.

Tyler swoops in front of the door as I try to leave the tiny storage room, blocking it with his body that suddenly looks much more massive than usual. “Why are you so against the idea of loving someone?”

My arms fold across my chest and I give him a pointed look. “I am capable of love. I love Miranda and my mother. And I already love nephew and the baby’s not even born yet, so I think that classifies me as someone who loves.”

With one final so suck on that look, I step to the left to bypass him but he slides over and blocks me. Then I stubbornly go to the right, only to be blocked again by a six-foot-two-inch muscular man with a freaking shit-eating grin on his face.

“Would you stop being a child for just one moment please?”

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