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to Greg to go against statistics." Sarah gave her a hug. "I've got to run. The girls are home alone and, at their ages, anything could be going on when they're not fighting over the phone."

Waving, Sarah said, "I'll talk to you before Thanksgiving."

"What do you want me to bring?"

"Your smile," Sarah called over her shoulder. "And that good-looking fireman if he becomes single between now and next Thursday."

Good-naturedly Natalie shook her head and smiled.

She walked the giant warehouse and went down the power-tool aisle filled with numerous boxes of testosterone-enticing equipment. The very idea that she was going to buy something in this store was amazing.

As she read about the features on different types of screw guns, she became aware of someone behind her. Normally she wouldn't have paid much attention, but whoever it was pulled at her subconscious like a blip on a radar screen.

Turning slightly, Natalie casually glanced over her shoulder to see who'd come down the aisle.

Her neighbor.

All she saw was his sweatshirt-clad back and the bold letters Boise Fire Dept. That, for some inexplicable reason, snagged her heartbeat and kicked it up a notch.

Standing in close proximity to him, she realized just how tall a man he truly was. Glancing at him from across the street was far different from being next to him. x

Facing forward, she forced her breathing to remain calm. Should she say hello? She did, after all, know him—even though she'd never spoken to him and didn't know his name. Maybe he wouldn't recognize her. Then the moment would be awkward.

Natalie burst into a smile about her ridiculous thinking. My God, he was simply her neighbor. Her married neighbor.

This was so incredibly stupid!

Somewhere between the smile and the thought "stupid," she must have laughed out loud because a masculine voice spoke to her.

"Hey, how are you?"

Turning around, she thought she was prepared to make small talk, thankful he knew who she was. But the moment she looked into his face, she grew distracted by his powerful masculinity.

Natalie practically melted.

His mouth was incredible, his teeth were slightly crooked but very white against his lips. He had the nicest dark brown eyes and his face was more handsome than any one man should be entitled to.

"Hi," she returned. "How are you?"

"Pretty good. Haven't seen you outside lately."

Socializing in Boise came to a semi-standstill in the winter. Days were short, the air was a frigid thirty-some degrees and snow lingered on the ground. Mail was quickly collected from the boxes, half the time from the car before pulling into the garage; garbage cans made it to the curb in record time if one was dressed in office wear. Aside from that, nobody was in their front yard for conversations unless they had to shovel snow.

"Bad weather." Natalie couldn't stop staring at his mouth. "I don't do well in the winter."

"You're not a native?"

"Born and raised. I just never get used to the cold."

"Neither do I."

A momentary silence fell and Natalie became a little nervous. He unnerved her in a way she hadn't anticipated, and she thought it silly that she, a woman of her intelligence and age, was breathlessly affected by him.

"My name is Natalie," she said several seconds later, opting to take charge.

"Tony," he replied. "Tony Cruz."

"Natalie Goodwin."

He extended his hand and she hesitated briefly, then accepted. His fingers were strong, almost viselike, but without crushing her small hand in the slightest. He knew just the right amount of pressure to apply. His skin was warm and felt firm, his grip solid; maybe there were calluses on his palm. She couldn't be sure.

"Nice to meet you," he responded. His deep voice resonated through her every nerve ending.

She combated an annoying blush. "Thanks. Now I have a name to go with your face. I've only thought of you as 'the fireman.'"

"And I've only thought of you as 'the neighbor,'" he countered with an easy smile, making her feel comfortable because he played along with her comment and turned it back on her. Folding his arms over his chest, his eyes fell on the Makita. "Good choice."

"I can't believe I'm buying it, but I'm doing a little renovation work. I'm in the process of opening my own flower shop in the North End—Hat and Garden."

"I know where that is. I saw the sign go up." His voice had a deep timbre. "My wife would probably say I should visit a florist more than I do."

"My grand opening is on the first. I'd love to have you stop by, and bring your wife, too."

"Maybe I will."

Natalie struggled to say something without thinking about his wife and how Mrs. Cruz must look forward to this man coming home to her each day—with or without flowers.

"Well, in case I don't see you again," she said lightly, "have a happy Thanksgiving."

"You do the same. Hopefully we'll have a white Christmas this year."

"That would be great. My daughter's coming home from college for Christmas." As soon as she'd said it,

Natalie instantly cringed. Saying she was old enough to have a daughter in college—she might as well have waved her driver's license in front of him and declared she'd probably been in middle school while he was entering kindergarten!

"That'll be nice to visit with her. I don't think I've seen her around."

"No, she's been away since the summer." Changing her stance, she commented, "I noticed you have a little girl. She's very cute."

"She's my stepdaughter." His brown eyes softened, a smile hooking itself on the corners of his mouth. "But I love her like my own."

Endearing. The man was utterly endearing and heroic… Natalie shrugged off further wayward thoughts. "Well, I have to get going."

"Me, too. See you later."

After he'd gone, Natalie's heart ached for reasons she couldn't begin to explain. She was unable to move, her feet planted to the concrete floor while she tried to make sense of what had happened. She had never been attracted to a married man—wouldn't even consider it. But Sarah was right—there was something

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