Leaving Normal (26 page)

The orange chairs were filled to capacity, the fans wild and very different from those who were regulars at the BSU football games. Followers of the Steelies were a different breed. They were loud, rowdy and always liked a good hip check that ended in a fight on the ice.

Tony slanted his gaze at Natalie who stood next to him shaking her macaroni box and keeping her eyes on the rink as the players' names were announced over the PA system. Over the deafening noise of cheers and the clabber of air tubes that fans smacked together, it was almost impossible to hear any of the names being spoken.

Natalie's eyes were intent on the arena, taking everything in—and there was a lot to take in. She was oblivious to him staring at her, which was good. He wanted to take his time, to observe and study. To smile at her and watch her expressions.

She seemed to be interested so far. Hockey wasn't for everyone. A bit of a blood sport at times. Teeth got knocked out, knees cut, fingers got broken, foreheads sliced by the blade of a skate. He knew firsthand about that one. That's how he'd gotten the scar on his temple.

He was a skater.

Funny thing, big as he was, he glided on the ice as if he were meant to be there. He played on the firemen's hockey team, loved the game, the challenge and adrena-. line rush that was different than he experienced on the job.

Natalie glanced his way, smiled and he smiled in return. Or maybe he was already smiling.

A sparkle lit her eyes, a hint of curiosity and wonder before returning her attention to the ice.

She looked great in a white sweater that was very feminine. Her jeans rode a bit below her waist, something he thought was sexy and when she moved, just a hint of skin showed between the bottom of the sweater and the waist of her jeans. He liked that. Her coat was draped against the back of her chair in case she got cold in the arena.

She'd done her hair differently, put on her makeup a little differently, too. Just when he thought he knew her—rather, could predict her—she did something out of the ordinary.

He liked that, too.

She surprised him in ways that made him happy.

Her cheeks were flushed pink, the neckline of her sweater was low enough to show a slight valley of cleavage but not too much that he could see any outline of her bra. She had a great body, a flat stomach and nice breasts. He wondered if her surgery had affected her, not in a particular physical way, but in an emotional way. He knew of people's lives that had been changed by scars and accidents. Minds were reset to live differently, to think beyond appearances. He could only speculate if she thought she was less of a woman, if in any way she felt less desirable. She didn't look less desirable to him. In fact, she'd never been more beautiful.

"It's crazy in here," she laughed, her lips shiny with gloss and the overhead lights picking up varying strands of blond in her hair. "Is it always like this?"

"Absolutely."

"Wow." She returned her attention to the rink, then the announcer called for the start of the game.

The puck was dropped and sticks started slamming as the period got under way. Tony explained several things to Natalie when she asked. He had to lean toward her, talk into her ear. Whenever he did he smelled her perfume and was tempted to bring his lips to the shell of her ear and give her a kiss.

If she had any clue how much she affected him, she didn't show it. There had been a time or two when her question wasn't really a playing question, and he sensed maybe she asked just to get him to come closer.

All he knew was he was enjoying himself more than he had in a long time.

In between periods, they walked around the arena, nudging through the crowd. He wanted to buy her some pucks to throw on the ice.

She lagged behind him due to the tight congestion of people, and he instinctively reached out his arm, took her hand in his.

She was warm and soft, her fingers curling around him. He felt like the luckiest man in the place. Men looked at her, something she had to be used to, but perhaps she wasn't paying attention.

He steered them toward the puck booth, then stopped when he saw Walcroft wearing his blue volunteer EMT shirt.

"Hey, Wally." Tony didn't let go of Natalie's hand and she came up beside him. She shifted her weight as if she'd slip out of his fingers if he loosened his hold and free him from any obligations to keep tabs on her, but that wasn't happening. He wanted to keep her close.

"Cruz." Wally shook his hand, then moved his gaze to Natalie. "Hi."

Tony made the introductions. "I work with this guy. He's one of our hosemen."

"Nice to meet you."

He could tell Wally was impressed, not that it made a difference to Tony. He already knew he had something special. And he planned to get to know her much better and really figure her out.

"We work the games for nothing," Tony explained. "In return, we get ice time."

"Ice time?" she questioned.

Wally filled her in. "We're on the fire department hockey team."

She slanted her gaze up at him, her lips parted. "You are?"

"Yep. This coming Friday we play the police department in the third annual Guns and Hoses charity event."

"Boise's bravest whip the asses of Boise's so-called finest," Wally joked.

Tony knew Wally's words were optimistic—the fire department had lost the last two years, but this time it would be different. "We're going to smoke them this year. Rocky's out for blood."

"Well, hell," Walcroft said, "if Massaro is going for broken bones, the cops better look out."

Tony gave Natalie's hand a squeeze. "Come on, let's buy you some pucks."

At the booth he paid for ten of the yellow rubber pucks and handed five over to Natalie. He kept five for himself.

"What do I do with them?" she asked.

"In a minute, we're going to toss them."

"Oh…okay."

He kept hold of her hand and they resumed their seats. When the announcer made a call, everyone who'd bought pucks threw them on the ice. The one who came closest to the center circle won some money.

Natalie concentrated and made a toss; it was anyone's guess where the puck landed. She got close to the center-mark circle, as far as he could tell. He pitched the pucks he'd bought for himself. It was good fun. Neither of them had the number of their puck called out as a winner.

The toilet race started, his interest not really into the icecapades, but rather the woman beside him.

"You look nice tonight," he said, his voice loud enough so she could hear him but not so loud everyone else in the row could, as well.

She turned to him, gave him a playful bat of her eyelashes. "You already said that when you picked me up."

"I meant it then, and I mean it now."

She smiled. She had a great smile, one that got to him in the core of his heart. While sometimes he was sure he wanted to get crazy-deep involved with her, other times he held himself back.

The night moved quickly, the game was over and a sea of macaroni boxes ended up on the ice in celebration. Afterward, he asked Natalie if she wanted to go to Barde-nay for a drink. She said yes and, rather than move his truck from the parking structure, they walked Capitol Boulevard and crossed the street to the Basque District.

Everyone else apparently had the same idea and the pub was packed with people. He found a table in the back by the distillery.

Holding out her chair for her, he then sat down himself.

There was a bar menu. "Are you hungry?"

"I'm still full from dinner. It was so good."

He'd taken her to Opa's on Ninth Street. The Mediterranean decor and food was something she hadn't experienced before. He was glad he'd chosen it.

"What do you want to drink?" He glanced at the mixed cocktails, opted for something straightforward.

"Wine would be good. Chardonnay."

The server came and he ordered a Corona and her wine. When they were alone again, he settled into his chair, brought his foot to his knee and sat back. He watched her, said nothing until she got self-conscious.

"W-what?" she stammered.

"Just looking."

"Why?"

"Because I like looking."

"Well…it sort of makes me nervous."

"Why?"

"Because it just does."

He kept staring, smiling. "You're cute when you blush."

She put a hand to her cheek. "I'm not blushing. It's the lighting from the television. There must have been a Pepto commercial. All that pink hit me or something."

He laughed. "Don't think so."

She laughed, too. "It could have been possible."

"Don't think so," he repeated. He laid his hands on the arms of the chair, felt relaxed. Content. "Where'd you go to high school?"

"Borah. And you?"

"Boise. Class of '87."

"I was Class of '78."

His eyebrows rose. "She's getting better. She admitted to graduating nine years before me."

"Funny how that nine years just stays between us, huh?" She tried to make a quip. "I might as well keep reminding myself."

"I don't think of it as a reminder, so you're wasting your breath."

The drinks came and Natalie took a sip of wine, her fingers sliding down the stem and a thoughtful expres-sion lighting on her face. "Do you have any brothers and sisters in town?"

"Nope. Only child. I know you have a sister. Any others?"

"Just my sister who you met at Hat and Garden. She's younger. Although sometimes I think I'm younger."

He nodded. "This is good."

"Not really. She's a lot more out there with her thinking than I am, so I feel inexperienced at times."

"How so?"

"I married the first man who asked me, didn't date a lot before him. Now that I'm single, it's like I'm going through that awkward stage all over again."

Tony cracked an easy smile. "I don't look at it like that. I'm smarter now, I know what I want. I have a better perspective about what's going to make me happy for having gone through what I did."

"I don't doubt that. But I've been on some dates that I wish I'd never gone on. I tried that speed-dating service. A disaster."

He drank some beer, rested the bottle on the dark wood table. "That kind of dating isn't for me. I think the best things come when you aren't looking for them."

She lowered her gaze, then lifted her chin. He couldn't read what was in her eyes, wished he could, but her words were more telling. "So you're not looking for anyone?"

It was the first time she'd admitted to being interested him, even if she didn't come out and state it—even if she didn't realize what she
didn't
say was just as revealing.

He grinned, gave her one of his best ones. "If I don't look, she'll fall right into my lap."

Music drifted around them, each looking into the other's eyes. The atmosphere was lively, the lighting soft. Noises from the kitchen were a muffled sound in the distance. People walked past their table to use the restrooms in the back. None of it seemed to matter. It was as if they sat by themselves, alone. Just the two of them.

Something changed in that moment, he felt it course through his body. Knew she was considering giving herself over to things she fought. He couldn't tell for sure, just had a hunch by the way she looked at him, the way she smiled slightly.

They left and drove home, each in thought. At her door, he took her keys and unlocked it for her.

Moths batted against the porch light she'd left on, illuminating the small space.

She stood with an awkward posture and a tight hold on her purse, maybe wondering what she should do. He wasn't going to do anything because she expected him to do something.

The last time he'd had her here, he'd kissed her. That didn't mean he didn't want to now. He did.

Her hair was soft, the blond buttery and golden. Her lips were pink and her cheeks blushed from the cold. From the close way he stood next to her, he could easily take her into his arms, kiss her firmly on the mouth and make her melt.

But that's what she assumed.

He wasn't all that predictable. Besides, he'd rather kiss her when she wasn't tensed up waiting for it.

"Good night, Natalie. Thanks for coming with me."

"Oh, well…thanks for asking."

He put his hand above her, rested his palm on the doorframe and leaned closer. He could feel her breath against his jaw, watch the part in her lips. She swallowed.

"Next Friday, come watch me skate. The Guns and Hoses event starts at four just before the Steelheads play. I'll come by and get you about two."

Confusion marred her forehead, a sense of what to do came to play over her features. "I usually work on Fridays."

"Can you make arrangements for someone to cover you for late afternoon?"

"I…Tony, I think we're better off if we just stay friends and—"

"Friends watch other friends skate. There's no commitment to doing anything else but that, Natalie."

She struggled, then said, "Yes, I suppose you're right. It's just that—"

"Then I'll see you at two." He pulled himself taller, backed away and stepped down from the porch. "Have a good week."

As he walked toward his house, he pushed his hands into his pockets to ward off the cool spring night, yet his internal temperature was blazing. It was all he could do not to turn around, pull her fully against his chest and cover her mouth with his.