Leaving Normal (22 page)

"It wouldn't be okay," she said quietly. "People would miss you."

I would miss you terribly.

Where that thought came from, she didn't question. It had to be the miserable way she was feeling—somewhat vulnerable and drifting in and out of a half-conscious state.

"Why do you do it?" She let out her breath in a slow release from her lungs, then waited. "Why are you a firefighter?"

His eyes were an intense shade of brown, his mouth full and curved very slightly at the corners. She could smell him on his clothes, that distinct masculine scent. "Because it's who I am."

Reluctantly, she fought against reaching out and touching his cheek with her palm. She felt things for him she had no business feeling.

She had to get him out of her head.

"How's your lady friend? The woman in red from the Valentine's auction—Sophia." She hoped he'd say he was in lust with her or something, that he was seeing her on a regular basis, taking him out of circulation. Off-limits.

Creases of humor formed at the corners of his eyes. "I wouldn't know. I haven't stayed in touch with her."

"Why not? She was stunning."

"She's also not what I'm looking for."

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him just what he was looking for, but she refrained. She didn't want to know—well, yes, she did. But she didn't want to hear the answer.

"Hmm." Her response was more of a hum than anything else.

Tony's laughter penetrated the room. "You think too much."

Marginally affronted, she remarked, "Think about what?"

"About everything." His large hand rested on her thigh, its weight measured even through the thickness of her blankets. He gave her a pat, more of a pal-type pat than anything else, and dammit if she was disappointed it wasn't more of a caress. "Just relax. Take a nap."

"Hmm," she uttered once more.

"Make your mind go blank."

"It's never blank. Too much to think about. My store, my daughter, my family…my house and my—"

"Close your eyes, Natalie. Stop thinking."

She did as he suggested, but it seemed like a long while before she allowed herself the liberty of relaxing, of drifting off to a semi-conscious sleep.

The last thing she recalled was the woodsy smell of him taking over her senses, the feel of his hand on her leg and the sound of his breathing as he sat in her bedroom.

Later, when the phone rang and it was Sarah.saying she was on her way over after closing the store, the bedroom was dark and the chair was empty.

Tony had gone.

Check under the Hood

Tony couldn't take Parker out to lunch on Sunday because he was on shift, so he made arrangements to take her on Saturday. Kim dropped her off at his house just before noon. Brian drove them, parking his pickup at the curb while Kim led Parker to the front door.

From the doorway Tony glanced in Brian's direction, no longer gripped by the intense anger he'd once felt. There was still animosity, a deep resentment and dislike, but at least Tony kept that tamped down most of the time. It only resurfaced when he had to deal with Kim, which had been less and less frequent as Parker adjusted to her new living arrangements.

"Toe-Knee," Parker said, hugging him.

"Hey, Parker." He laid a hand on her head and gazed at Kim. "I'll have her back at four."

"Where are you going?"

Before Tony could answer, Parker spoke up. "Can we go to Chuck E. Cheese's?"

Tony thought it over a second, shrugged. "Sure. Sounds good."

Kim left and Tony went inside to grab his coat. Parker ran into the garage to climb into the truck and was waiting for him when he punched the door opener.

Stepping toward the truck, he paused, thought for a second, then opened the Ram's door. "Parker, would you mind if I asked a friend to come with us today?"

"Who?"

"A lady."

She scrunched her small face, hair sticking out from beneath a knit cap. "Your girlfriend?"

"No. Just a friend who lives across the street."

"The snow lady?"

Tony smiled. "That's the one. I helped her shovel snow once."

"Okay, Tony. She can come. Does she like pizza?"

"Who doesn't?" He turned the radio on and presented Parker with a stack of CDs. "Pick which one you want to listen to and I'll be right back."

Tony walked across the street, wondering if Natalie would be home. It had been three days since he'd sat with her until she'd fallen asleep. He had seen her once since, walking out to the mailbox in the late afternoon. She had her slippers on, but she was dressed in jeans and a sweater. She had to be feeling better, must be going a little nuts in the house, so he was going to take her out of it.

He rang the bell and the door was answered a few seconds later.

"Hey," he said, smiling as she smoothed her bangs off her forehead.

She wore a pair of navy-colored sweats that fit nicely against her hips and thighs and a plain white T-shirt. The knits flattered her figure, hugging her body, curving and accenting in all the right places. Her hair was down, its blond color looking golden and warm. She'd put on some makeup, not much. Mascara, maybe some blush. No lipstick.

"Tony, hi."

"How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks." She stood there, almost a little at a loss; he could tell by her body language, her posture. "Uh, I didn't get a chance to tell you thanks for staying with me."

"No thanks necessary."

"Well, I go back to work on Monday. I am so ready." She gave a half laugh. "I'm going stir-crazy in here. I shouldn't be driving because of my stitches, but I'm half tempted to go for it and head up to the grocery store just to look at the produce or something—anything but staring at these four walls."

"I thought that's how you'd feel. Get your coat."

She questioned him with a tilt of her head. "Coat?"

"You're coming with me and Parker. We're headed out for pizza."

"But I—"

"I'm thinking your coat is in that closet by the stairs." He moved past her, let himself inside. Her house was warm, the air smelling like spices from something that had been baking, and another fragrance—it was the flowers on the kitchen table. A huge bouquet of them.

He picked out a camel-colored hooded coat, one with fur on the trim, held it out for her to put on. "Parker's waiting, so let's go."

"But I'm wearing sweats and I—"

"And you look great," he said, sticking one of her arms in the sleeves, then the other. "Get your purse and keys, lock the front door. We're going to Chuck E. Cheese's."

"Chuck E. Cheese's? I haven't been there since Cassie turned ten."

He grinned. "Then you're long overdue."

Without further protest she grabbed her belongings, closed up the house and walked with Tony across the street.

Once there, he said, "Parker, this is Natalie."

The little girl replied with a beauty-queen wave. "Hi."

"Hi, Parker." Natalie climbed up into the high truck, sitting in the passenger seat while Parker slid into the middle. "How are you?"

"Hungry."

"Me, too, actually." Natalie's eyebrows rose. "Now that I think about it, pizza sounds great."

"I like plain cheese," Parker stated.

"Well, of course. That's what my daughter likes, too."

"How old is she?"

Tony watched Natalie's expression alter from relaxed to a controlled smile. "Eighteen."

"She's old." Parker opened a CD case. "My mom's twenty-seven. How old are you?"

Tony could have waylaid that personal question, told Parker it wasn't something you asked an adult, but he wanted Natalie to respond—even though he knew the answer. It would do her good to say it in front of him, and say it often so she knew that it wasn't an issue for him.

Plastering a smile on her mouth, she replied, "Forty-three."

"You don't look it," Tony said, turning over the ig-nition, taking the CD from Parker and slipping it into the player.

"Thank you," she murmured as the music came on, LeAnn Rimes singing her heart out.

For most of the drive, Natalie gazed intermittently out the window while Parker talked a mile a minute. Occasionally, Natalie would smile and add a comment, express her opinion.

Tony slid his gaze across the seat toward Natalie, took in her profile and pensively thought about what it was that made him comfortable with her, made him want to get to know her better.

Driving along Fairview Avenue, Tony was well aware of emotions that were normal after a divorce— feelings of setback, unworthiness, even loneliness. He had tried to put the lonely times from his mind, keeping himself busy on the job or around the house, hanging out with Rocky. He'd repainted his bedroom, bought new sheets, a duvet cover and pillows. The room was masculine now in rich tones of olive, brown and black. He liked it, liked what it stood for. Independence.

He sensed Natalie valued her independence as well, but on many levels they were both fighting long nights in beds without someone beside them to make the days seem fuller, the quiet hours bearable.

It wasn't as if he couldn't live by himself. He had no problem with that. He had just been thinking that he had been alone even when he was sleeping beside Kim. And there was nothing more lonely than being alone with someone. In retrospect, his empty feelings had been building for the past year, and had been a long time coming.

Maybe he'd worked through the divorce issues faster than most because he'd had a head start putting things behind him while he was still in the middle of being married. Who was to say? He didn't want to get too circumspect about it. Shit happened in life. His life was moving in a new direction now.

He slid another glance at Natalie. Her lips were set together, her nose tilted, and her jaw was set in a resolute manner. She was proud. He always sensed she was a strong woman. That was confirmed the day she told him they'd found a problem on her mammogram. She hadn't fallen apart, cried or gotten hysterical.

He had spent the last couple of weeks with her on his mind, catching himself in situations at the firehouse, doing something and pausing, Natalie's words or her face or her expression coming into play in his head. He was in the station kitchen the other day, the guys having put on a pot of chili, and he recalled putting soup in a cup for Natalie and taking it upstairs to her.

That she popped into his thoughts without warning said something to him. He was attracted to her maturity, her openness to discuss most any subject and her intelligence. Comparing her to women his own age, she was emotionally more stable than most he knew. Plus, she was sexy as all hell.

He liked her. There was no doubting that at all. Maybe he liked her too much for his own good.

He knew about the rebound woman a man was supposed to hook up with after a divorce, then figure out she was all wrong for him, move on and get real for something else more serious. He hadn't dated much since the divorce, if at all. The Valentine's auction was the closest he'd come to spending time with a woman for any length of time, but he'd realized after a few hours that Sophia only wanted him for sex and nothing else.