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hoseman Burt Schmitt, driver Doug Frye, Captain Henrico George—but we call him Captain Rico."

"Hi," the captain said, a can of diet cola before him. He was a dark-complected man, probably in his mid-fifties, with a thick head of black-and-silver hair.

"What did you ladies make for dinner?" Rocky asked with an easy grin, his hand looped through his date's hand. The woman was attractive, and she'd fit right into the lively group, joking with Rocky.

Natalie didn't im mediately get the "ladies" reference, but soon gathered it was a quip against the firefighters being domestic.

Doug replied, "Captain Rico made stuffed Cornish game hens."

"Did you get out the fine china for it?" Rocky teased.

"You got that right, Rocky." Captain Rico leaned back in his chair. "You're just pissed because the ladies at your station only know how to punch a button on the microwave."

"Can I get you something to drink?" Tony asked her.

"Ice water would be fine."

It felt a little strange to have him wait on her when what he did here for his duties was so much more important. She felt as if she should get it herself. Perhaps he read her mind because as he handed her the glass, he gave a laugh, "Don't worry about it. I clean the toilets and mop the floor."

She smiled. "Okay. Thanks."

Good-natured comments and jokes were exchanged about tonight's hockey game and victory. Natalie listened, added here and there, enjoyed the camaraderie and thought this was a real family. The heart of the fire station was in this kitchen, the lingering smells of spices from this evening's dinner in the air.

The movie Backdraft was brought up and dissed.

Doug Frye said, "It's pretty much Hollywood. There are no fires in the walls and no way they'd have sex on the engine."

Rocky nudged the woman he was with. "I told you."

She opened her mouth. "I never said I wanted to do that."

Laughter went around the table and she took it well. Natalie gave her a well-intended smile.

Wally added, "Now, Ladder 49—that was a good one."

All the men nodded in agreement. Tony said, "Captain Palladino, who never cracks, shed a tear in that flick."

"I think we all did." Doug Frye's expression grew contemplative.

Natalie hadn't seen the movie, but made a mental note to rent it.

Captain Rico reminisced about a prank involving frozen silverware in the dishwasher, when a succession of three buzzers came over the speakers. A slight hitch in the captain's voice was the only acknowledgment of the call, but she felt the tension in the room, the anticipation to see if it would be for them.

"Engine 13, code blue—"

Natalie didn't follow the rest. Chairs were scraped back and three pairs of legs propelled three men into fast action.

Tony took her hand, had her follow them down the hallway and into the garage. She stayed on the sidelines and watched as the firefighters bypassed their big boots and turnouts and jumped directly into the engine. The tall garage door rose while the motor rumbled to life. Lights flashed, casting a red-and-yellow splash against the white walls. As the engine rolled out, the siren came on and the crew left.

In their wake, the garage door slowly wound down and the area was quiet.

Natalie hadn't realized she put a hand over her heart as she watched it all being played out before her.

"I thought I had an idea…but I really didn't," she whispered with a sigh of awe.

"I know," was all Tony said.

They went back into the station and he took her in to the main sitting room, a large space with five worn La-Z-Boy chairs lined up in a row. The television beamed a picture into the darkened room, giving enough light that she could see Wally and his wife seated in one of the chairs together, she on his lap.

Rocky said he and his date were taking off, and he and Tony clapped each other on the back, congratulating themselves on the win.

Tony put his hand on the back on one of the chairs, an old metal TV-tray table beside it. "Can we stay for a while and then head out? I want to hang around and see how the call went."

"Yes. I understand, of course." Then she asked, "Which way is the restroom?"

"Down that hall by the kitchen, on the left."

After using the bathroom, she stared at her reflection in the mirror and asked herself how she'd gotten here. It seemed as if a friendship had been building with Tony for months. She'd never had this happen before. She'd always started out with the possibility of being romantically involved and letting things go from there. This was the first time she'd had a male friend who had touched her heart in ways she hadn't been prepared for.

This was Tony's world, his place, and it had a profound effect on her. She liked being here, liked sharing this with him. She felt accepted in this firehouse, even though not so long ago there had been a Mrs. Cruz who came and visited. But nobody seemed to mind she was with Tony. It could have been that they knew he'd been unhappy and now he was…happy.

She'd seen it in his eyes, felt it coming from his heart. He'd smiled at her in the kitchen, thoughts surfacing in his eyes that maybe he was content for the first time in a long while. Those same feelings were stirring in her. She couldn't believe how easy it would be to fall if she let herself. Dared to let go…

Leaving the bathroom, she started back down the darkened hallway, then remembered she'd left her water glass in the kitchen. She turned around, looked up and saw Tony coming toward her from the illuminated kitchen.

"I need to get my glass—"

The rest of what she was going to say was cut short because just as she was passing him, he took her hand and pulled her back so she could advance no farther. She let out a soft gasp. His splayed fingers gripped

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