Leaving Normal Stef Holm (classic literature books TXT) 📖

"Before what?"

She drew in a breath. "Before things got complicated."

"If they did, it's because you complicated them."

Natalie licked her lips as his gaze fell on her mouth. He wondered what she would do if he leaned in and kissed her, pulled her into his arms and slid his tongue into her mouth. He had half a mind to do it, and to do it in the grocery store where everyone could see. But if he did, she might think he was only doing it in case Alisa came by. Which he hoped she wouldn't. The fact that she hadn't followed him was a good indication she'd finally accepted he wasn't going to go out with her.

"Tony, I need to finish my shopping," she said as she began to move away.

He blocked her cart with his, a subtle movement that kept her still a few seconds longer. "You know where I live."

"Yes," she whispered.

If she was going to give them a chance, she would have to come to him. They had reached a point in their relationship where she had to ask herself what she re-ally wanted. As much as he would have liked to, he couldn't answer that for her.

Not even a fireman good at rescuing people could rescue Natalie out of the fears she kept in her heart. Only she could do that.

"Natalie?" he asked.

"I don't want to lose your friendship," she said in a half whisper, her body betraying her; she trembled.

"You don't have to."

"But I don't know if I can give you anything more permanent."

"I'm not pushing."

"I know…it's just that you're young and handsome and you should be meeting women, dating them. That nurse—you should go out with her."

Strong reproval resonated in his voice. "I don't want to."

"Then look up Sophia from the auction, go out with the guys to a bar and meet someone you might like better than me. Younger and—"

"Natalie, shut up."

Tony took her chin in his fingers and brought his mouth over hers in a soft kiss that she had no problem yielding to. It surprised Natalie that she allowed him to kiss her in a grocery store. But he felt so good. She had missed him so much.

His lips teased hers, his fingertips tight over her chin as he held her still. She welcomed him; the sensual slip of his tongue into her mouth to discover and remember. She took the peace and pleasure he offered, her hand resting on his hard thigh and her pulse beating erratically.

He stirred within her a lazy and languid feeling of desirability, of being wanted and cherished. She loved it, embraced it. Felt comforted by his presence in ways she could barely comprehend. He meant the world to her.

In spite of everything she told herself she would not do, Natalie had fallen in love with Tony.

That thought made her go still.

"Don't think, Natalie." Tony's words sluiced over her parted lips in a moist heat.

"I can't help it." She struggled, fought against the familiar tug to let him go.

She wondered if the answer would ever come easily. The things in life that were worth having were sometimes hard-fought. Maybe this was one of those times when she just had to ignore the voice of reason in her head. Because the harder she tried to let go of the truth, the more it persisted.

She loved Tony Cruz.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Dirt Bikes and Sundays

Cigar smoke drifted in pungent gray curls. The firefighters of Engine 13 sat out in back of the firehouse puffing on cheap stogies. They'd had a box of Fuentes last time, a real "walking the dog" cigar, but for some reason or another—maybe it was because they were local boys—they liked the kind of smokes that didn't take a huge chunk out of a man's wallet.

"Good smoking," Captain Palladino commented, taking a puff.

Tony got a full-bodied taste of tobacco as he smoked. It was almost a licorice flavor that filled his mouth. "Who bought these?"

"C Shift," Walcroft said, his voice tight as he exhaled. "You owe the contribution box a couple of bucks."

Nodding, Tony made a mental note to himself to drop some singles in the cigar fund.

The fire station operated on a city budget, but what-ever personal items the firemen wanted, they had to pay for themselves. The morning delivery of the Idaho Statesman, cable television and the box of candy bars in the TV room were funded by the men.

The three of them sat in a half circle on kitchen chairs, Tony tilting on the back legs of his.

The evening was warm for the first night of May. Remnants of the sunset streaked the western sky. The smell of a freshly mowed lawn from the fire station's small piece of yard filled the air with a grassy scent that mixed with the cigars.

Hoseman Walcroft straddled his chair backward, his legs on either side of the seat. He'd traded out shifts on a regular basis with another one of the firefighters so now he was permanently on Tony's shift.

A crooked smile relaxed Wally's face measurably. "Nothing beats a long, hot summer and a motocross race. The good Lord probably mixed my system with a little too much testosterone, but that's what dirt bikes and Sundays are for."

"Are you riding at OMC this Sunday?" Captain Rob Palladino rolled his cigar, knocked the cherry off in the chrome ashtray the guys used. It was the top to one of those hotel stands, but without the bottom cylinder. They kept the bowl on the blacktop, each of them leaning forward on occasion to drop their ashes in it. At least that was the intention. They didn't always make their target.

"I have the need for speed." Walcroft got a thoughtful look on his face. "Who said that?"

"Steve McQueen," the captain supplied.

"Naw. I've seen On Any Sunday a bunch of times, and it's not in that movie."

Growing contemplative a moment, Captain Palladino said, "Then it had to be Keanu Reeves."

"What movie?"

"Speed."

A name lingered around the edges of Tony's mind,