Страница 18 из 49
The first time she’d seen him, on Blooming Pails’s opening day, she’d nearly swallowed her tongue. Standing in a shaft of dazzling sunlight, biting into one of the homemade ca
But then she’d noticed the emblem on the T-shirt which stretched across his broad chest. The T-shirt bearing the words Ocean Harbor Beach Fire Department. And she’d deflated like a popped balloon. How freakin’ unfair was it that the first guy in months to give her a jolt-and a freakin’ lightning-bolt jolt it had been-was a firefighter? Just to be sure, she’d casually asked him while she wrapped up the bouquet he ordered, hoping he’d tell her the shirt belonged to a friend or he’d bought it secondhand and he was an accountant. A waiter. A mechanic. Anything but a firefighter.
But he’d confirmed his occupation. And sealed his fate, at least as far as she was concerned. Even though her hormones screamed in protest, there was no way she’d act on that spark of attraction. When he’d given her the bouquet she’d just wrapped and asked her to di
She’d hoped her claim, along with her cool demeanor, would deter him, but he came in every week. And each time her pulse a
And now here he was again. Walking by her window. She hoped he was just taking a stroll, enjoying the lovely day. Maybe he wouldn’t come in-
The door opened, a
Their gazes met and her stupid pulse performed a somersault. Crap. Why did he have to be so attractive?
He’s not merely attractive, her suddenly alert hormones informed her. He is steaming hot.
Okay, fine. Steaming hot. Lots of men were steaming hot. Didn’t they litter those men’s cologne ads? Yes, they did. So what was it about this one that got under her skin? Maybe she was allergic to him. She instantly brightened. That’s all this was-a pesky allergy. One antihistamine and she’d be cured.
It’ll take more than an allergy pill to purge this guy from your system, her talkative hormones whispered. And he hasn’t even touched you. Or kissed you.
Touched her…kissed her…
An image popped into her mind, of him walking toward her. Not stopping or slowing down, just wrapping those strong arms around her, picking her up and still walking, until her back hit the wall. Settling his beautiful mouth on hers. His tongue slipping past her lips. His hard, muscular body pressing against her-
“’Morning, gorgeous.”
The deep masculine voice yanked Toni from her sensual reverie and she blinked. And realized he’d walked to the counter. And that now only the three-foot-wide slab of granite-and a dozen centerpieces-separated them. Three feet and a bunch of flowers she could easily reach across. Or jump over.
Heat rushed into her face and she inwardly winced. Great. Now she’d look blotchy. A
“Good morning,” she said, looking down, partly to keep from staring at him, partly to hide the flame scorching her cheeks. She stabbed pine into the centerpiece in front of her with far more force than necessary.
“You okay?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “You look sorta…flushed.”
Her head jerked up at that. Their gazes collided and she found herself staring into his beautiful, ocean-colored eyes, the sort you could drown in while trying to figure out if they were more green or blue.
“I’m fine,” she said, her voice laced with a hint of challenge, daring him to disagree.
Instead he nodded. Then gri
That damn grin crinkled the corners of those beautiful eyes and a
“It’s just the reflection of all these red leaves and decorations and lights,” she said, waving her hand to encompass the store.
His gaze followed her hand, pausing on the Christmas tree set in the window. “Pretty tree,” he said. “Is that a new addition?”
“It’s been there for the past two weeks.”
He returned his attention to her and smiled. Whoa. The grin was pretty damn great, but the full smile was potent with a capital P. Warm, flirty and intimate all at the same time. Another few layers of strength fled her knees without a backward glance. She stabbed in another piece of pine and pretended she didn’t feel it.
“Guess I was too busy looking at you to notice,” he said. “What are all those little red envelopes hanging on it?”
For an answer she handed him a flyer from the pile on the end of the counter. “The Twelve Steamy Nights of Christmas,” he read. His gaze flicked back up to hers. “Sounds promising.”
“It’s for charity,” she said quickly, groaning inwardly as the words poured from her like a flood-a curse that occurred whenever she was nervous. And dammit, he made her nervous. “Each envelope contains a gift for a…sensual night out.” Crap. Her tongue had tripped on the word sensual. “Local restaurants have donated meal cards, shops in the area gave gift cards, that sort of thing. For a twenty-five-dollar donation, you can pick any envelope you want. All the proceeds go to local charities.”
He nodded. “Very nice. Your idea?”
“Yes. It seemed a good way to introduce myself and Blooming Pails to the community and do some good at the same time.” Which was absolutely true-although the full truth was that after six months with zero sex, the idea was also inspired by her own deep desire for a steamy, sensual Christmas gift. But since nothing remotely resembling sexy, steamy, sensual-all those lovely S words-hovered in her immediate future, she’d just live vicariously through her customers.
“Great idea. Lots of folks need help, especially this time of year. A fire last night in Ocean Harbor Beach left a family homeless.”
Toni’s stomach clenched. “I’m sorry to hear that. Anyone hurt?”
“No, but they lost everything.”
“If they’re still alive, they didn’t lose anything that really matters.”
“True,” he agreed. “But it’s still a tough situation. The guys at all the stations in the county participate in a toy drive every Christmas. It’s really hard to think of kids not having a present from Santa to open.”