She'd barely digested the bad news when a customer entered the shop, pulling Natalie's attention away from the accident.
And he wasn't just any customer.
In the midst of a crisis, Tony Cruz had appeared. She painted an instant smile on her mouth, all the while wishing he'd come at a different time—a time when she was mentally prepared and not under duress. She wanted to make a good impression.
Hat and Garden, with its charming atmosphere, had become the beat in her heart, the stride in her step, the first thought on her mind when she woke up each morning.
Letting Tony see that about her, knowing that this was a special place to her…well, she couldn't explain why, but it was important.
Instead of being calm, she felt the chaos building in her pulse as she greeted him. "Hi, Tony. I'm so glad you stopped by."
"Yeah, I should have done it sooner. But I've been working a lot."
Sarah was grabbing her purse and car keys from under the counter, giving Natalie a silent wave, when Meagan appeared from around a corner where the ladies' room and utility area were located. Meagan grabbed Sarah and mumbled something to her.
Natalie wondered what it could possibly be, but she had to tune out the two women. "I'm sure the fire stations are busier during the holidays."
"We had a pretty busy New Year's Eve a couple nights ago."
"Oh." Distracted, Natalie didn't like the look coming over Sarah's face as she and Meagan disappeared down the hallway.
Addressing Tony, Natalie remained pleasant, masking her distress. "Well, I'm glad you finally made it here." Had she already said that? "What can I help you with?"
"I need a bouquet."
"What's the occasion?"
"Birthday."
Natalie smiled. He was a sweet man. "Well, there are all kinds of flowers you can choose from in the cooler here. We have an assortment from mums to daisies, roses to asters. I'm sure your wife will like whatever we come up with."
When Tony didn't readily respond, Natalie looked up at him, realizing he'd been quiet longer than a moment.
His expression darkened. "They aren't for my wife. They're for my mom."
The way he said it put a hitch in her heart. She couldn't find words fast enough.
He ended up continuing, "My wife moved out. We've split up."
"Oh," Natalie mouthed, adding nothing further for a few drawn-out seconds. "I'm sorry to hear that."
No wonder he'd seemed preoccupied when she and Cassie had run into him at the craft store. How could it have escaped her that his wife was no longer living across the street?
But with Cassie's visit, then departure, the shop, the craziness of the new year…
Her heart went out to Tony; she knew all too well what he felt like.
Sarah returned with Meagan in tow just as the shop phone rang. It was answered by Meagan, while Sarah said a brief hello to Tony. "Hi, I'm the sister—Sarah. I hate to interrupt, but I need Natalie for a second."
Natalie was steered away toward the exit porch, and the two of them stood just inside the doorway.
"What's the matter?" Natalie hissed in a lowered tone.
"The bathroom toilet flooded and the floor's all wet. We shut off the water, but I think it's a main water pipe or something. It's still trickling. I threw down a roll of paper towels to sort of keep it under control."
The pulsing knot in Natalie's head was tightened to a degree that she knew she'd need some aspirin to see her through. "Wonderful. Just what we don't need."
Still processing that piece of news, Meagan called softly to them, and when Natalie didn't respond, she said louder, "Natalie, phone call for you. It's Jonathon Falco."
Natalie smothered a groan.
Could things get any more complicated?
* * *
Natalie rang the doorbell, drawing in a deep breath of chilly air while she waited; her cheeks and nose were already cold. She hadn't thought to put her coat on— in fact, she really hadn't thought anything through.
She heard footfalls, then the door opened, and Tony Cruz's wide shoulders filled the opening.
"I brought you a bottle of wine," she uttered without preamble.
She recalled how yesterday, at the shop, he had seemed very restrained. She'd greeted him with her mind elsewhere and had been unable to offer her undivided condolences over his news. She thought this goodwill gesture might somehow make him feel better.
He put his forearm over the doorframe and leaned his body forward without speaking. Black lashes spiked his eyes. His eyes were darker than she recalled, a brown that was remote and distant.
"I'm sorry probably doesn't help…but I'm sorry." She tried to make her voice sound casual, nondescript. Understanding, yet not as if she'd come to be his confidante or therapist.
His gaze pierced the short distance between them, his mouth grim. Tired lines bracketed the corners of his eyes. He appeared as if he hadn't slept much lately. His clipped black hair was ruffled, and she fought a strange urge to smooth it.
The rich timbre of his voice enveloped her when he asked, "You want to come inside and help me drink it?"
She licked her dry lips, looked past him into the large, empty living room. Indecision caused her to hesitate. She hadn't really thought about drinking the wine with him. Or maybe she hadn't wanted to acknowledge the thought had crossed her mind.
"I can't stay long. I have to…"
She didn't have to do anything.
Today was Sunday. Her store was closed. All that was waiting for her at home was a house to clean and laundry to wash.
Tony took the bottle of sauvignon blanc from her, then stepped aside. She urged her feet forward. She held back a little, letting him take the lead and bring her into the house.
Instantly grateful for the warm interior, she shivered off the outdoor cold that lingered behind her. She wore soft-washed jeans and a pale-pink knit sweater, the weave clingy over her arms and breasts.
The front entry and subsequent living room created a spacious area, made more so
