Leaving Normal by Stef Holm (whitelam books txt) 📗

words. "But you aren't that old, Natalie. You can do everything you want and have a second chance at life with someone special, too."

"I agree. But I'm just not determined to have a date on a Friday or Saturday night the way I was right after my divorce. One day—" she smiled, a soft upturn of her mouth "—I will date again. I'd like to feel important to someone, to not live alone. But for now…I'm okay."

He realized she'd confessed a lot and he appreciated her candor. "I understand."

"Do you—really?"

"Yeah. It feels good to feel like you're important to someone."

"Yes…" She spoke with a soft exhale, a gentle caress of a sigh, one that he read volumes into.

She was lonely. She might not admit it, but she was. He knew the feeling, could define it in ways she probably hadn't thought about.

Easing into his chair, he asked another personal question, hoping she would answer. "How many men have you dated since your divorce?"

"Seriously or just had a first and last date with?" She laughed, trying to make light of the topic.

"Seriously," he supplied in an equally serious tone.

Her mouth sort of fell open a little, a parting of her lips as if she was indecisive about answering. At length, she responded, "One."

"How long?"

"Too long."

He waited.

"Four months."

"That's not long."

"It was long enough to become emotionally attached. It was a bad breakup."

"Why did you break up?"

"Not my choice. His. He said we didn't have chemistry."

Tony's eyebrows lifted. "It took him four months to figure that out?"

"Apparently."

She thoughtfully took a sip of her soda, then a crease marked her forehead and an audible sigh escaped her. "You men view dating in a whole different way than women."

"How's that?"

"Well, it's like…" She collected her words, licked her lips, then in a breezy tone, professed, "Here's a good analogy. Women walk into a car dealership, size up all the cars, then pick the red one because it looks pretty. Men walk into a car dealership and spend hours checking out all the cars, under the hood, the gauges and the tires before they settle on one particular car."

"And there's a problem with that?" he questioned, a smile tipping the corners of his mouth.

She swirled her straw through the ice in her cup, then elaborated. "The same woman, when choosing a man, will want to check his tires, under his hood, get all the stats on him—then decide if she'll go out with him. And yet, the same guy who spent all those hours on the car before buying it—he'll look at a line of women and pick the redhead without a single question. He goes by her appearance only because she's pretty."

Tony laughed. "So what's the point?"

"The point is, men are fickle. They'll invest more on a car than they will on a woman."

"Not all men."

On a half laugh, she sort of snorted. "The men I know."

Shaking his head, Tony concluded, "Then you haven't been with the right man."

She gave him a glance, a lift of her eyebrow. "Maybe not."

Their eyes connected, neither saying anything. Both maybe thinking two different things…or maybe not.

Tony didn't know how long the moment would have lingered if not for Parker butting up to the table.

'Tony, when's the pizza going to be here?" She sidled next to his knee, pushed her weight into him and stole a sip of his cola.

"Right now," he said, breaking away from Natalie's gaze as the server came to the table with a large cheese pizza.

They ate, talking about nothing significant until he mentioned the Idaho Steelheads and Natalie said she'd never been to a game.

Tony lowered his slice of pizza, wiping his hand on a paper napkin. "You're kidding me—you've never been to a Steelies' game?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Not on my priority list." She pointed at him, and almost in an accusatory tone, asked, "Have you ever been to the Morrison Center and watched a musical?"

"No."

"Why not?" She teased him right back.

"Not on my priority list," he responded.

She laughed. He enjoyed the feminine sound, thought she looked years younger when she relaxed and wasn't so on guard.

Pizza was finished, the bill paid and the three of them drove Parker to her house. Tony brought her to the door, said goodbye, then it was just him and Natalie heading back to their part of town.

They didn't say much—they didn't need to. He felt at ease, was comfortable just listening to the music and not having to make filler conversation.

He pulled into his garage, got out of the truck, and she made it clear she was going to walk back home without him, because she started walking while talking. "Thanks for taking me out to pizza. It was fun—"

"I'll go with you," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets to ward off the chill. It might have been in the low forties at best, the sky clear and crisp.

"It really was fun." She stepped up to her porch, dug into her purse for her house key.

"I'm glad you had a nice time. So did I. We should do it again." He waited to see her reaction.

She gave him just the one he anticipated—a moment of indecision as if she wanted to but didn't want to let herself want to. It was all he needed to see.

He leaned his shoulder against the wood trim around her front door, folding his arms over his chest. "There's a hockey game tomorrow night. The Steelies are play-ing Vegas and they're going to tear up the ice. I'll pick you up at five, we'll grab something to eat downtown and I'll show you what you've been missing."

"Well, I…" She fumbled for something to say. "Don't you have some firemen buddies you'd rather go with?"

He grinned. "I don't date men."

"But this wouldn't be a date," she quickly rebounded. "I don't think we should date because I—"

"I told you, you think too much." He leaned in, gave her a kiss on the corner of her mouth, tasting just a hint of her. His was