Toni nodded. She recalled the faces of such children, such families, who’d lost everything. Even now, three years later, with that life behind her, the images still haunted her. To this day she still jumped at the sound of a fire alarm, and adrenaline pumped at the sight of a fire truck. She blinked away the heart-wrenching memories and said, “The toy drive’s a great idea. Even as we speak, my assistant is dropping off our donation at the Santa Rey station.” An errand Toni had thought she was so smart sending Jayne off on so she wouldn’t have to visit the firehouse. Little had she known Brad would show up here while Jayne was gone.

“On behalf of all of us, I thank you.” He glanced back down at the flyer. “It says if you bring your little red envelope here the day you’re using the contents, Blooming Pails will provide a free rose for the date.” He looked at her and zoom went her pulse. “Pretty romantic.”

Was he laughing at her? It was impossible to tell, just something else annoying about him. She could usually read people very well, but Bradley Griffin and his unwanted sex appeal kept clogging up her receptors. “You have something against romance? Or roses?”

“Heck no. And to prove it, I’ll buy one of the red envelopes.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and she absolutely didn’t notice the fascinating play of muscles beneath his snug black T-shirt. Or the way his jeans clung to his lean hips and long muscular legs. Nope. Didn’t notice a thing. Besides, what was the big deal? She knew damn well what great shape firefighters had to be in. Just because his shape looked better than most didn’t mean she had to stare.

He pulled out his wallet and handed her twenty-five dollars. Their fingers brushed as the money exchanged hands, shooting a tingle straight up her arm. “Which envelope should I pick?”

Any one. Then take your tempting, sexy self out of here and don’t come back. She shrugged. “Your choice.”

He leaned a bit closer and she pulled in a quick breath, one that filled her head with his scent. God, he smelled good. Clean. Like sunshine and freshly showered man. She had to lock her knees and grip the edge of the counter to keep from giving in to the temptation to bury her nose against his neck and simply breathe him in.

“What if I said you were my choice?” he asked softly.

She forced her gaze to remain steady on his-his gaze that was filled with unmistakable interest. And heat. Enough heat to make her feel as if someone had just set a match to her skin. “I’d say you were trying to pick something off the wrong tree.”

For an answer he just smiled-which was bad enough on her already weakened knees, but then he winked.

Oh, God. Why did he have to wink? A man that good-looking shouldn’t be allowed to wink. Especially at her-a woman who harbored a freakish weakness for winking. And what this man could do with one wink…good lord, she needed to ring up his purchase and send him on his way.

She turned and headed toward the cash register. From the corner of her eye, she watched him peruse the tree, as if choosing a card was a monumental decision. Finally, he plucked one from an upper branch then walked toward her waggling the envelope between his long, strong fingers. “Wanna see what I got?”

God, do I ever. I wanna see everything you’ve got. She firmly told her inner voice to shut the hell up then picked up several roses and resumed her work. “If you want to show me.”

The heat that flared in his eyes stilled her hands. And damn near stopped her heart. Okay, wrong thing to say. Why, oh, why didn’t life have a rewind button? Or a judge to rule on such things. Your honor, I’d like my last statement stricken from the record.

“Oh, I definitely want to show you.”

Her mouth went dry. It simply wasn’t right how this man turned her on just standing there. Why couldn’t he be an accountant? Anything but a firefighter? She briefly wondered if Nana Rose had put some sort of Sicilian curse on her love life.

With his gaze on hers, he opened the credit-card-sized envelope and slipped out its contents. Then he looked down. And smiled. Then looked up at her. With a heated expression that threatened to melt the soles of her sneakers.

“This must be my lucky day,” he murmured. He pulled out his wallet and handed her another twenty-five bucks. “I’ll take another.”

Before she could recover from her surprise, he headed back toward the tree. Her gaze zeroed in on his ass. And what a fine ass it was. The man definitely had a great walkaway. When he crouched down to mull over the envelopes near the bottom of the tree, her head tilted to admire the view, while in her mind’s eye his jeans-along with the rest of his clothes-miraculously disappeared. When he returned a moment later holding another envelope, she realized she was still standing precisely where he’d left her, holding the twenty-five bucks, her head still tilted to one side, and the fantasy-induced image of his bare backside fried into her brain.

“Wanna see what I’ve got now?”

I just saw it. And it was fiiiine. She blinked away the image of a naked Brad and shrugged. “You can show me what’s in the envelope-since I have a feeling you will no matter what I say.”

“C’mon, you’re as curious as I am.”

True, unfortunately. Insatiably curious about what his skin would feel like beneath her fingertips. What his kiss would taste like. How his large hands would feel skimming down her body. How quickly they could bring each other to orgasm. How long they could make it last before coming together.

All things she desperately wished she wasn’t curious about.

He opened the envelope and perused its contents. “Perfect. This really is my lucky day.” He set the gift card from the first envelope he’d opened on the counter and slid it toward her.

Toni looked at it and her eyebrows shot up. “Perfect? Really? A red-and-white peppermint-striped lace Christmas thong from Mimi’s Intimate Apparel on Third Street?” She pushed the card back toward him. “Congratulations, although really, I would have pegged you for a boxer man myself.”

He pushed the card back toward her. “Glad to know you’ve been thinking about what’s under my clothes.”

“I’ve done no such thing,” she lied, ignoring the fact that she sounded like a prudish schoolmarm. A lying prudish schoolmarm. She pushed the card back toward him. “Have fun with that.”

“That’s my fondest hope.” With a single fingertip he once again pushed the card back toward her. “For you.”

Again, her brows shot upward. “Me?”

“You. Doesn’t take much of a leap of imagination to figure that that peppermint-striped thong would look a hell of a lot better on you than me.”

She slid the card back at him. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

He slid it right back to her. “C’mon. Help a guy out.” He flashed a devilish grin. “The boys at the station would razz me no end if I showed up in something from Mimi’s Intimate Apparel. You have no idea how brutal those guys can be.”

Actually she did. All too well. Never again. She pushed the card back to him, this time with a bit more force. “As much as I appreciate the thought, I have to decline. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding someone else to give those panties to.”

“Seems I already am having trouble.” Once again he pushed the card toward her, this time setting the red envelope next to it. “Since you don’t want it, why don’t you just put the card back on the tree? And instead, I’ll offer you this one.” He set the second card on the counter and nudged it toward her.

She looked down at the gift card for dinner for two at Sea Shells, Santa Rey’s most popular beachside restaurant.

“Have dinner with me,” he said softly.

Her insides threatened to melt into goo and she gritted her teeth against the appalling affect he had on her. She turned the card around so it faced him then pushed both it and the other one back toward him. And stiffened her rapidly weakening spine. “Thanks, but we already had this conversation. I told you I was involved.”