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He nodded. “Seriously, you’d be doing me a huge favor by taking it off my hands. It’s not like I can wear it.”

“There must be fifty other women you could give it to.”

“Actually, no. And even if there were, I want you to have it. Since it came off the tree in your store, it’s only fitting it be yours.”

She said nothing for several seconds and he could almost see her internal debate as to whether she should accept the present. Finally she said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He shot her a wink. “I hope you’ll think of me when you wear it.”

Another crimson blush suffused her cheeks and he nearly groaned. He tried to remember the last time he’d seen a female over the age of fourteen blush, and came up blank. Silence swelled between them and he frantically searched his mind for something to say. Something other than I want to kiss you so badly I can hardly think straight. He was saved when the waiter appeared with their menus and the wine list.

“Do you prefer red or white?” Brad asked her. “Or maybe champagne?”

“Chardonnay, please.”

He consulted the list and ordered a bottle. After the waiter departed, Brad opened his menu, but couldn’t concentrate on it since he was so busy looking at her. After a quick perusal of her menu, she closed it and set it aside. He gave up and did the same. Before he could think up anything brilliant to say, the waiter reappeared with their wine. After he’d poured them each a glass, he turned to Toni to take her order. Brad’s gaze zeroed in on her glossy lips, watching her form each word, imagining that gorgeous mouth pressed against his.

“And for you, sir?” the waiter asked, turning toward him.

“The same for me,” Brad said, unable to look away from Toni. He had no idea what she’d ordered, but since he pretty much liked everything except broccoli, it didn’t really matter. Hell, he’d even eat broccoli if that’s what she’d ordered. As far as he was concerned, this meal definitely fell into the category of “it doesn’t matter what you’re eating, it’s who you’re eating with.”

After the waiter left, he picked up his wineglass and held it aloft. “To…” He hesitated, unwilling to say what he really wanted to for fear of scaring her off. Us. Beginnings. An incredible night.

“An enjoyable evening,” he finished.

She inclined her head and touched the rim of her glass to his. After taking a sip, he set down his drink and said, “So, tell me why you don’t like firefighters.”

She raised her brows. “Boy, you don’t waste any time.”

“If this is the only date I’m going to get, I don’t have any time to waste.”

“This isn’t a date,” she reminded him. “It’s just-to use your words-one little dinner.”

Not if I can help it. If he had his way, this one little dinner was going to turn into one hot night followed by one hot morning. Then repeat same. Until neither of them could move and this fire she had lit in him was put out.

Obviously a plan best not put on the table right now.

“Okay,” he agreed. “So since this is the one little dinner I’m going to get, tell me why you don’t like firefighters.” He studied her for several seconds then guessed, “Bad breakup?”

“I suppose you could describe it like that, but not in the way you’re suggesting. It’s nothing to do with a boyfriend.” She drew a deep breath, then with her gaze steady on his, said, “I used to be a firefighter.”

Brad couldn’t hide his surprise. “Used to be? What happened? Were you injured?”

“Not physically, although it came close. You sure you want to hear this?”

“Absolutely.”

“All right. During college I dated a firefighter-nothing serious, but it whetted my interest, and even after the guy was gone, the interest in a firefighting career remained. I enrolled in fire school and became certified as a paramedic. Four years ago, I was hired by a station in Woodton, a small city about one hundred miles east of Santa Barbara, which is where I’m from. It was my first experience living away from home, and I thought everything was going to be perfect.”

She paused to take a sip of wine and he sat back, waiting for her to continue. “But I take it everything wasn’t perfect,” he said.

“Everything was a disaster. I was the first woman to be hired at that station. I think the only reason I was is because the chief felt pressured to break that gender barrier. Unfortunately, almost without exception, the men I worked with resented having a woman there. I was the interloper in the all-boys’ club and they let me know from day one that they weren’t going to make it easy on me.”

Brad nodded. As much as he disagreed with that mentality, he knew it existed. “They made your life difficult.”

She made a humorless sound. “Difficult would have been a blessing. It was hell. I have three brothers so God knows I can take teasing, practical jokes and potty humor. But this was…mean. Even vicious. The guys who weren’t actively harassing me just turned a blind eye to what was going on. In spite of passing every physical and written test with flying colors, none of them believed that a woman who ‘looked like me’-” she made air quotes around the words “-could do the job. The stress was incredible, but I was determined not to quit. The abuse got so bad I finally filed a sexual-harassment suit, figuring things couldn’t get much worse. I was wrong.”

She looked away from him and ran her finger around the base of her wineglass. Sympathy for her plight, the unfairness of it, filled him, and unable to keep from doing so, he reached out and touched her hand. Her skin was warm and silky and a tingle sizzled up his arm. “What happened?”

“It got to the point where I actually feared for my life because I didn’t trust any of them to have my back.” Her eyes bored into his. “You know that your life depends on your partners. I didn’t have any. It was a small station and we all needed each other, but I couldn’t depend on them. Not one of them. I knew that with every fire, every rescue, my life was endangered. I accepted that risk. But I wasn’t willing to accept that I could be injured or even die because my coworkers wouldn’t have my back. So I quit.”

Outrage on her behalf joined sympathy and he squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Toni. How long did you tough it out?”

She slipped her fingers from his and again picked up her wineglass. Her hand shook slightly. Obviously the memories still distressed her. “A year and a half.”

He nodded, impressed. “I give you a lot of credit for hanging in that long.”

She looked at him over the rim of her glass. “You don’t think I’m a quitter?”

“Hell, no. Given the impossible circumstances, I think you did the right thing. What became of your sexual-harassment suit?”

“I dropped it. Once I quit, I didn’t want anything to do with any of it. I packed up my things and moved back home to Santa Barbara.”

“And that’s why you don’t like firefighters,” he murmured. “Now I get it. But, Toni, you know we’re not all like that. If I’d been at that station, I would have had your back.”

She shot him a clearly skeptical look. “You wouldn’t have gone along with the crowd?”

Her question hit him like a slap. “No. Not my style. Never has been.” He leaned forward and fixed his gaze on hers. “As much as I’m sympathetic to what happened to you-and believe me, I think it sucks-you’re making assumptions about me based on the bad behavior of people I don’t even know. I’ve been a firefighter for seven years and during that time I’ve worked with some great people and some real jerks. Here’s a news flash-there are great people and real jerks in every profession.” He cocked a single brow. “Probably even in the flower business.”

She blinked. Then narrowed her eyes and studied him for a long moment. He strongly sensed he was about to pass or fail some test he hadn’t studied for, so he remained silent under her regard and wished he knew what she was thinking. Finally, a sheepish expression crossed her face. “You’re right, of course. I don’t know you. You might be a prince among men-”